It’s
been a little over a year but yet sometimes it’s hard to process…to do…to deal
with.
It’s
been hard to put into words because I don’t want to sound like I’m whining or
wanting people to feel sorry for me.
Because I’m not whining and I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. To be quite honest, at first I wasn’t sure
why I decided to put this out in the open but as I pondered my intention it
became clear that I’m sharing because this can be lonely. As a parent, you feel like nobody understands
and everybody has something to say, which most times is negative. You feel alone. I want other mamas/parents to know that you’re
not.
I’ve
learned so much over the past 14 months and even though I’m pushed to the brink
of insanity on a daily basis, this has had my eyes wide open. It has been quite the journey and learning
experience and I must say that I do see light at the end of the tunnel.
and start from when the portals started to open but I was desperately trying to close them. And keep them closed.
Radical
#2 loved his pediatrician. I never
dreaded any doctor visits. I didn’t over-analyze
how the doctor moved to another building and had a completely new staff. Radical #2’s name is called and we walk to
the nurse’s station. As soon as she comes
to take his temperature he goes into a full-blown tantrum. He went from a sweet little boy to demon
child in 0.2 seconds. The rest of the
appointment was a complete nightmare – kicking and screaming, holding demon
child down as if we’re about to perform an exorcism. Radical #1 looked terrified and did I mention
I was 6 months pregnant?
After his
exorcism check-up, the doctor drops the bomb on me. The doctor, ever so kindly, says that he’s
referring me to a therapist to rule out the A-word, also known as Autism. He goes on with how concerned he is with
Radical #2’s behavior today and blah, blah, blah. As if I wasn’t flustered enough?
I was
having hot flashes as I loaded the Radicals into the car and I just let it
out. I started to cry. I wasn’t sure if it was my pregnancy hormones
making me super emotional or if I was frustrated because my damn child is 3 and
isn’t this normal 3-year-old behavior? But
then again, I ain’t no doctor so what the heck do I know.
I blew
his list of therapists off and went on with life. I did however have the “let’s rule out the
A-word” constantly lingering and found myself noticing Radical #2’s behavior. But still, I’d push it aside and tell myself
that we’d get through this. It’s just a
phase. If I just buckle down and stop
letting him get his way all the time, this too shall pass. But for fuck’s sake I couldn’t take the
screaming anymore and gave in to his demon behavior. And also, I didn’t need the crazy neighbor
next door calling CPS on me again.
10
months later we move thinking that if we’re closer to friends and family and we’d
get out more things will change. His behavior was the same; sometimes
worse.
With
Radical #1 in school & Radical #3 in daycare I figured why not give this
therapy a try. We have nothing to
lose. I did learn, however, that I was a
horrible mother and how I needed to follow through with consequences and spend
more time with my children. Okay, that’s
not what she said but I did everything she told me to and everything was the
same so after a while I dreaded going to therapy. I just didn’t see the point anymore. We succeeded in his sessions so now
what? We just keep doing this just to do
it? There was no progression, no back-up
plan, no ‘what if this happens’ so we stopped going.
I
enrolled him in pre-school. He did
great. There were no reports of
demon-like behavior except once but that was only once. No biggie; we’re in the clear.
Fast
forward to Kinder Camp (a day long orientation for the newbies). He’s restless during the assembly. There was a portion during the day when the
children had to go to their new class and the parents had to stay back to
listen to more speeches.
And alas,
the demon-child has returned.
The
first half of his kindergarten life was an emotional roller-coaster. I will admit that I was flabbergasted at his
behavior because he did so great in pre-school.
I would get calls saying that security had to chase him down and hold
him down because he was kicking, screaming, biting, etc. I felt like he was a completely different
child. We had a meeting that consisted
of his teacher (who I think is the best teacher ever), counselors, and other
staff members. They went on about his
behavior, asked about his upbringing, and how we can work as a team to help
him. They put him on a 504 Plan and recommended
the SEBD (Support for Emotional & Behavioral Development) program. In the following weeks, DHS (Dept. of Human
Services) and the school did their evaluations and there were more
meetings.
And
then it hit me like a ton of bricks. The
previously said portals have been
opened and this time there was no keeping them closed. Insert another emotional roller-coaster
ride. This time I was focusing on
myself; how I really was a horrible mother.
Why did I blind myself from this?
Why couldn’t I be more consistent with consequences? Why did I let judgements of others and myself
get in the way of seeing what was really happening? Why?
Why was I so worried what other people would think? Why did I focus on assuming that others were
thinking that he’s just a little brat? How
the hell does a child become like this?
I fell
into a slump. And then I became angry and used the past to point the blame for
all this nonsense. The past, as in we
lived in the boondocks and had no social life; we lived next to a crazy person
and was afraid to go outside. If the Husband
had just listened, we wouldn’t be in this mess
so therefore this is all his fault.
I was
assigned a case worker and a therapist.
I was still full of anger and still beating myself up. The first day I met with the therapist she
told me what he was diagnosed with…ODD (Oppositional Defiant Disorder), PTSD,
and ADHD. I did an eye-roll so huge that
I thought my eyeballs were going to pop out of my sockets. I had so many emotions that I couldn’t keep
up with. I turned to anger and snapped
at her how it seems as though doctors nowadays are so quick to diagnose
children with ADHD. But deep down I was
ashamed because I felt as though I did this to him. I created this chaos because I couldn’t handle
the screaming and always gave in. And
then came the tears.
The
school completed their evaluations. Everything
was the same, as I expected, except for “he
shows A-word like behavior.” So because
he prances on his tip toes and smells his food, that equals to the A-word? And although the school cannot diagnose
anybody, they still said it. I will be
honest and say that I was angry and confused because I, in that moment, became judgmental
and ignorant. I based my feelings and
opinions on what I heard from others what the A-word was and I’ve been avoiding
this word since he was 3 years old. The
truth was that I had no idea. I had no
idea how big the spectrum is.
This
was unchartered territory.
We
were referred to LD & ADHD Center of HI which consisted of a 2-day testing. I received his 28-page test results, which by
the way will make anyone go crazy, and I was still confused. For the life of me, I couldn’t see it. I mean, of course he’s not going to be
outgoing because he doesn’t know you. After
I got over my confusion I decided that the bottom line was to take the
resources offered to help him. Teaching
myself to broaden my horizon so I can help him without losing my shit. Don’t get me wrong, I lose my shit daily but knowing
how to react makes some days easier than others. I had another school meeting where we created
his IEP (Individualized Education Program).
It
took a while but I’m no longer focusing on what
he’s diagnosed with, but rather how
I’ll help him to navigate the world and be the best version of himself. That’s what’s important. You know that saying “don’t judge someone
until you’ve walked in their shoes?” I
really take that to heart because if you haven’t then you don’t really
know.
I get
the “oh, if my kids ever acted like that, they’d get slaps!” or “he just needs
a good spanking!” After all this, I feel
like there’s a fine line between ‘not
able to connect the dots fast enough acting out’ and just being a little shit because you feel like it (this was me when
I was his age!). The line is so fine
that it becomes grouped into one and I feel that’s where the ignorance
starts. I’m not here to start a
debate. All I’m saying is that after
going through all of this, this is how I view it. I’m no expert but my eyes are wide open.
He’s academically
smart but can’t grasp and change gears as quickly as his peers when it comes to
his emotions or social situations. He
can talk your ear off but only if he feels safe around you. He’s a great artist that uses his drawings to
communicate his feelings when he has difficulty using his words. He’s unique in his own way but seems odd to
people who don’t know him. He is who he
is and I’m doing what’s best for him to help him be his best, without
expectations.
He is
making progress for sure but every day is different. One day, I see the light beaming so brightly
it’s blinding; the next day that same light is a faint glow. The same goes for me - some days I hold it
together and other days I lose my shit and every other word out of my mouth
starts with F. I’m now aware that “winging it” won’t
work. It takes pre-teaching, reminding,
making sure I have back-ups, making sure to stay as close to the routine as
possible. It’s exhausting but I’m taking
it one day at a time.
This
is my our life, re-arranged.
Jenn
