There are minutes. Hours. Days. When it’s all too much. When everything hits at once and I just want to collapse. Cry. Crawl in a hole. Run. One child with autism – now on ADHD meds. Two with CF. One of those that’s currently ill – and facing possible hospitalization for the second time in a year. One of those that also has behavioral issues that make me wonder just how to handle it all with her. A dad with Parkinson’s…which is rapidly growing worse. A mom I want to help, but am clueless as to how. A brother I haven’t spoken to in 2 years, with whom I’m now making baby steps to repair that relationship. Finances. A new job I never wanted, but needed to get. A surgery to “Fix” a problem…that didn’t work at all, and might have made it worse. The list goes on. And on. And I forget how to breathe. I forget which way is up. But I move on. I continue on every day as I have every day. Eventually I remember how to breathe. My brain remembers how to process. I find solid ground again. Today I’m upside down. Tonight sleep won’t be easy. But maybe tomorrow… Tomorrow will be better. Read more »
*Side note – to date this is my absolute favorite picture of Kennedy. 😀 When you first meet Kennedy, and often for many meetings after, you see the sunshine. We once pegged her as the ‘smilingist’ baby ever. She has it all. The eyes that melt your heart with their bigness, their brightness, their expressiveness. The cheeks that run in the family – from birth until teens just adorable, chubby, and pinchable. The silly grin. It lights up her face, or quirks just a bit to make you forget the anger and lean to laughter. Don’t get me started on the baby-doll voice. Cupie doll, sweet and tiny. No one can believe it. Not unless they ever see it. No one understands it. The completely opposite. Desperately different. Achingly painful. Underbelly of that sunshine. When we mention the way she can burst your eardrums we get the “You’re kidding, right?” look. When we mention the temper tantrum she threw – they think we’re being silly. We don’t know what a real tantrum is like, what real anger is like. But they weren’t there to watch her slam her head into the corners of walls, into the hardwood floor, into our faces. They aren’t here to see her intentionally dig at her nose until it bleeds so often she’s building scar tissue. Some days I feel like people look at me like I’m making it all up. Some days I wonder if maybe I’m overreacting to the anger. That on top of everything else this one thing is unbelievable. Because she is sunshine. With every heart-wrenching smile – she is sunshine. When I am at my angriest she can make me lose hold of it and smile. But she gets angry. Mind-numbingly, ear-splittingly, heart-wrenchingly angry. Things are better these days. A little. At least she isn’t trying to break our noses on a regular basis. But her teachers notice. It’s out of line with “normal” temper tantrums. And for this – for this I don’t know how to help her. Everything else has a solution. A therapy. A doctor. A…something. This? Most of the time, I don’t know how to handle this. I let the flame burn out. And wait for next time. Read more »
by Sarah CassMulti-published author. Mom of 3 special needs kids. Wife to 1 good man.
Redefining Perfect every day.
* <–This picture really says it all when it comes to my kids. Denver is the aloof teenager. Molly is the shy, slightly awkward middle’un. And Kennedy… Well, we love Kennedy. She’s got the attitude. The stubborn streak. The temper. *~* Last year over the course of the school year we had many issues with Kennedy. Her grades and smarts were impeccable. She moved into the advanced reader classes, and has continued on that course this year. However, we had other issues. Lying. Stealing. Stealing again. More lies. There was regular emails between myself and her teacher to verify facts and get our ducks in a row. Her temper was another issue again, frequent, but not overly so. She went to ‘friendship classes’, and had sessions with the guidance counselor. It was quite a year for little K. *~* This year we debated. “Do we warn the teacher?” We decided not to. We gave her a pass, a clean slate to try to make this year better all on her own. So far, it appears to be working… but we’ll know for sure at Parent Teacher Conference. ~fingers crossed~ Read more »