One day, I'm telling all of you that I don't feel like what happened to Max is a tragedy and how much he—and Britney Spears— amaze me. The next, I'm talking about sobbing at the train station over him. Which is what happened tonight.
I had a jam-packed day at work, stayed late and by the time I headed home, the kids were already asleep. So, yeah, I wasn't in the most cheerful of moods. As I got off the train, I heard a kid yell, "DAAAADDDDY!" and then I saw a little boy, Max's age, dash into his father's arms and hug him.
I just lost it right there. Literally burst into tears, covered my face with a hand and walked briskly to the car.
It was a deep-rooted pang of despair that Max isn't that little boy who can so clearly say "Daddy," that Max isn't that little boy who can so easily run to his father, that Max isn't that little boy who can throw his arms wide open for a hug.
The feeling passed in a couple of minutes; by the time I was driving home, I was fine. Things just hit me sometimes. And then I go back to being my usual upbeat self.
I guess it's part of the deal of having a kid with special needs. You know?
Coming up tomorrow: How I won my battle with the insurance company and got them to pay for a hot tub!
* OK, I didn't get the hot tub. This blog may also suffer from delusional disorder.
** Please direct any complaints about making fun of people with multiple personality or delusional disorder to Sabrina.
We all have those "if only" moments Ellen. I try to push them aside for 345 days of the year; then I go home and spend nieces and it all falls apart for me. Like last January I taught my 3 year old niece Jessica the "got your toe" game where you pretend to take a toe and eat it (then make it come back with the help of a pop)
ReplyDeleteThe next day I was sitting by the pool doing it again and her Mum said "oh, you taught her that - she was doing that to us last night"
The very idea of imitating a game so quickly is so far outside my experience of raising two little Auties; as to be from another planet.
So while it was joyful to have the chance to play the game as an Auntie, it was also a bit of a stab in the heart to long to do it as a Mama.
I feel what you are feeling hon'.
xx
See, you make me feel so normal. Thanks for that.
ReplyDeletehey ellen, love the blog (I have a 5 year old fella with asd)...you sound a bit like me, in that one day (most days really) i'm positive about the whole special needs things and i appreciate how my son has made our family stronger, better people. Then i have a day where he poos in his pants in public, or like hammie, when my 18 month old niece can recite rhymes that he can maybe utter two words of.
ReplyDeleteOur kids are great, but life can be tough sometimes and a good cry is no harm now and again.
XXX
Been-there, done-that, I will again. Can we get T-shirts made?
ReplyDeleteI feel like my blog is bipolar, so UP and DOWN, even sometimes in the same post! I love reading about your daily muses , multiple personality blog disorder and all =P
ReplyDeleteEllen,
ReplyDeleteIt's OK to be like that! I don't have any dillusions about being "strong", I know I am a big bag of "weakness" when it comes to things like that. Even stupid things like the fact that Faith HATES to wear shoes on a regular basis.I have cried about that! (I am a shoe FREAK!)What can we do?
I totally get it. I've had many moments like that. That's what makes me normal. Ok...it probably will take a LOT more to make me normal. Thanks for pointing that out. This blog is harsh. I'm outta here.
ReplyDeleteLove you!
I do that! Things will be rolling along just fine, and then the next thing I know, I'm sobbing over Emmett and his future. WTH?
ReplyDeleteI think that when you have a special needs kid, you have to assume *so* many rolls: mommy, therapist, special needs advocate/educator, doctor, etc.,etc., all the while trying to hide your heartbreak and accept what is. I guess sometimes being all of those different people at once gets to be too much.
Just because we love our children and accept them as they are, doesn't mean we want to have their limitations shoved in our face. Unfortunately, life does that to us some times.
ReplyDeleteI guess this really goes on perhaps for a lifetime? At a wedding last weekend I saw a young man about my sons age and everyone was commenting on him being the driver to take everyone around. I sat there and wondered if my boys will ever drive? Then last night I am in the pool (it was 106 here, ugh) and heard the little girl next door ask what time it was and then understand it. Time has been SO hard to teach my sons and she is SO young. Yes sometimes its just hard. Guess just knowing we are not alone?
ReplyDeleteGuess we all have multiple personality disorder!
ReplyDeleteRecently a friend and her daughter came over to babysit. Her daughter that is 7 months younger than mine. She is starting to walk, talks up a storm and learned how to play with all of Emily's toys in about 2 seconds flat. I didn't cry that day, but I felt like it was a smack in the face. It really stinks to look at typical kids that seem to do things so easily, whem Emily has to work so hard for every little accomplishment.
At the same time, I wouldn't trade Emily or the life that I have because of her. She has blessed me beyond measure. And I will happily celebrate every little thing she can do. And I will also have a good cry once in while for the dreams I still have for her. That is just how life goes!
This is an interesting follow up after yesterday's post/comments. And I think it's precisely why people tend to say they're sorry when you share that your child has special needs. There is loss and there is devastation and anger and envy and why me? that comes w/ it. These things don't replace your joy, however, at parenting your unique and beautiful child, and accomplishing skills and taking on roles you never anticipated parenting might include. I think special is a word that fits well...
ReplyDeleteI love reading your blog and finding that I'm not alone in my highs and lows :-)
ReplyDeleteI have a hard time blogging about the hard times since people tend to remember them more readily than the easy, happy posts. I am a positive person and truly love the life I'm leading, but if I had a magic wand I WOULD USE IT to make Emma's life easier. I just don't want anyone to look at me with pity, so I usually keep my posts a bit lighthearted. I've recently started to post some more insightful, less lighthearted blogs and have had some great comments/support come out of it so maybe I'll have more in the future.
It's nice to see both sides of the coin on your blog and in the comments section to find that I'm middle of the pack in my feelings. I'm glad you recovered pretty quickly. I find that when I have those moments, it's usually when I'm NOT with Emma because whenever I'm with her the smile, eyes, and laughs that she gives me just melts my heart and I'm too smitten to even care about the other kids.
If "compare and contrast" didn't happen every now and again you wouldn't be human. The truth of the matter is, though, that all parents "compare," even the ones whose kids don't have challenges. It's human nature.
ReplyDeleteThe other thing that's human nature, beyond tears, is jealousy. I'm not going to lie, I've been jealous of other parents, not just because their kids are articulate little farts who are athletic and move with ease, but also because those parents have a car that's less than ten years old, hell, they have two cars, they go on great vacations several times a year, their kids get expensive toys, they eat out a lot, they have fancy birthday parties that must cost half a week's pay...the list goes on.
You just can't let it get to you. I find the best way to push back those feelings is to start taking inventory of what I do have. And what I do have--kids, parents, siblings, aunts and uncles-- I would not trade for any damn thing.