But not all kids have a background like my son.
I had one-of-those nights on Monday. You know, you pick up your son after work just to be called a million names and be told he doesn't love you anymore. Then to get home and have his world melt down to the point that for everyone's sanity, he is sent to his room. Meanwhile, mom (that's me) is trying to calm herself down because she has hit the point of no return too.
And all of this before 5:30 pm. Yep, it's gonna be a long night, I declare.
While he's in his room, I can tell he's going to that dark place. He's screaming and crying, but he doesn't want me. And at the time, I didn't want him either. Sad, but true...I'm strong, but I'm human. So I walk away, again, while he continues his screaming and crying...fixating on the fact that he wants a toy that neither of us can find. Fixating, screaming, on and on, no way to reason with him, he just pushes me away. So I leave...and the yelling and kicking the bed continues.
Later, he's screaming "Mommy! Mommy!" I roll my eyes, do I really want to go running in there like I do every single damn time this happens? All the attachment books say it's the right thing to do, but I am not seeing progress here. So I sit, crying too because I am lost. So. Very. Lost. "Mommy, Mommy come here!" he screams through a raspy voice.
You are told adopting a toddler is going to be hard. Attachment is going to be difficult. What's more difficult for me is thinking we are making progress, only to then take 10 steps back. All of a sudden, my 5 year old is like a 2 year old. And yes, I know all about family age, so really he's acting 3, and his language is still lagging and he may have cognitive issues, ADHD, PTSD...yes, I am well aware.
But just ask anyone who doesn't have a child with this background and they all say, "All kids are like this." Hmmmm...really? Let's remember something; I have parented a bio child. She was challenging, she had her moments, she stomped her feet and told me "No!" and refused to do things. She was stubborn and strong willed, threw fits and tantrums. She was a walk in the park, compared to this.
I don't know what happened during his first few years that wired his brain the way it is. Why does he fixate? Why does he go to that dark place? I can see it in his eyes, and we know when it's coming. It's like watching a train wreck in slow motion--you see it happening, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.
Finally, I go in to his room. His face is puffy, tears streaming. He says, "Mommy, I love you." I did not prompt this, did not ask at all. So then I'm left speechless. Does he really love me, or is he saying this to get out of bed? Did I ever question my daughter's love for me? Not once. Yet here I am, questioning if he really loves me or if he's going through the motions.
This I know: I love him. I love him with all my heart, soul, and every breath. I'd walk through fire for him. And I won't give up.
So I reach down, pick him up, swaddle him in his comforter (remember, he's 5 now), and bring him to the rocking chair, and we rock...and we take deep breaths. I tell him I love him, and he tells me he loves me...I hold him tight, rock him, and slowly, I see him come out from the dark place.
He tells me he's thirsty, and rightfully so after all the screaming, yelling, and crying. We get the water, and soon he's tickling me, and I'm tickling him, laughing and smiling.
It's been 5 days since this last happened, and things have been good since then. These days are few and far between now, but they do still happen. I wish I knew what was going on in his head. I wish I knew how to stop the train wreck that I see coming. I wish I could take all the pain away. I wish, oh how I wish, I could be the perfect, text-book parent. I don't know if I made a huge mistake this time...but I know I'm human, and this time, I just needed to breathe.
All is well now...until next time, and there will be a next time. Until then, life is good, and it will be good.
.jpg)
Ewen had a similar day on Fri. I finally had to send him to his room, too, because I was at my end, and really didn't want to kill the poor child, but that was what was next. Ya know what I mean? Anyway, I found him an hour later on his bed, all the sheets & blankets thrown off, the pillow case off his pillow and he inside it like a sleeping bag. He was sucking on the edge of it, and it was soaked! I was more than a little worried. Is my boy psychotic??? Arg! Thankfully, these times are very rare, but I wonder if there really was a serious issue, or was it not as big a deal as I made it out to be? Or, as I half suspect, did he just want to get a reaction out of me, and he knew this was a way to do it? I just have NO clue! I wish you the best, and though it's not "normal," know that it is okay and you are a wonderful mother, even when you need a breath, 'cause none of us can do this. I often pray, "God, you're gonna have to do this, 'cause I can't."
ReplyDelete