One small step forward

A friend shared good news today. It reminded me that I’m more prone to vent the negative than celebrate any size victories.

A few nights ago, I was washing dishes. Mr. T came out of his room and asked me to come lay on his bed with him while he fell asleep.

This has never happened before. 

Like ever.

I dropped the dish I was washing and it shattered into smithereens and my foot was bleeding but I just left it all and limped with a shredded foot to go lay in that bed.

Well, not the dish breaking or bloody foot part, but if there had been a glass dish in my hands or I was starring in a sitcom, that would have conveyed the shock I was experiencing in that moment.

I laid on the bed listening to 39 Clues. We giggled every time the voice actor talked in a weird voice or shouted one of the character’s names, “DAN!”

All of a sudden the little guy rolled on his side and wrapped his arm around my shoulder and heaved a huge sigh. He said, “I wish I could fall asleep every night like this.”

This has never happened before. 

Like ever.

After a few minutes I had to return to the three other kids who needed homework help and those pesky unwashed dishes.

The following morning, he woke up in a fantastic mood. He said, “Last night was awesome. Can you come in every night like that?”

And that is the closest I have come to getting an “I love you, mom.”

Because that has never been said before. Like ever. And sometimes the opposite is shouted at me (shoot…see, it’s so much easier to default to the negative!)

Who knows if we’ll ever get there, but I’d like to think that maybe someday that part will come. And this invitation into his room…well it’s a step in the right direction and definitely worth celebrating.

“DAN!”

giggle, giggle

 

Scream louder

I love being screamed at.

Especially while driving.

Thankfully, it was just me and him. This time, his siblings were spared the peripheral damage.

For no real reason. That’s often how it is. There’s no inciting incident, just some bottled up rage that had to come out full force and full volume on the way home from karate.

  • Maybe because he came in 3rd place out of 4 losing to lower belts during sparring practice?
  • Or because he was up past his bedtime last night?
  • Or because he refused to eat the string cheese–I knew he was hungry and so did he!
  • Or because I just could NOT understand or correctly answer the absolutely off the wall question he was repeatedly asking me over and over…and louder and louder…
  • Or, most devastatingly, for no reason at all.

Because something inside him said, “you’re angry, let ‘er rip”. No matter that it’s your wonderful, sweet, loving, patient, takes so much crap from you and keeps coming back in for a hug mom.

I’m learning how important self-care and hope is in this season. I end up the brunt of misplaced and unprovoked anger, frustration and unkindness. And later when I’m still trying to just breathe and he doesn’t even remember doing it…or just won’t admit it. Dear Jesus, please take the wheel! I’ll be curled up in the trunk hiding from the monster…

Looking forward to some more specific answers beyond four letters in the near future. ADHD. It’s so much bigger than its little acronym lets on…

We’ve recruited an entire team to help us from every angle. All the people! All the things!

Yet, this alone space…it’s so loud and complex here.

So until we figure out how to connect and support each other, carry on beleaguered warriors. I have to believe the fight for this one is worth the bruises.

Survival mode

I’m stuck.

And I don’t really know how to talk about it.

We’ve been working for years to try to get to the bottom of it–to find a cause. Which would indicate that somewhere out there is a solution.

But the reality is that when it comes to the brain, there is still so much unknown and a whole lot of nasty stigma that is forcing us to wander a land between called “survival mode”. We know too much to go back, and have come to far to want to. But there isn’t yet a way forward. So it’s one day at a time, one step at a time.

We need a term like special needs. But I don’t think most of humanity thinks ADHD and all of it’s complexities is special.

I wish others could understand that we’re dealing as best we can with an unseen, under-understood and as of yet, un-treated ghost that daily haunts our child. Or not, because somedays it doesn’t. And on those days, we’re cautiously optimistic, but stumped when it returns again full force or more. For no reason at all. How do you study something that seems to have a mind of its own?

I wish we had a term that doesn’t shame or mis-identify, but lets others know when someone is deregulated in the moment. Where we wouldn’t have to explain that if we knew how to fix it we would, but we don’t, and this is his “normal” and we’re all gonna be ok someday.

At least that’s what we keep telling ourselves as we continue to jump through all the hoops, appointments and tests. And dream of that elusive “someday” that gives us just enough hope to press the button for survival mode one. more. day.