If you are like me, you feel like you are failing at mothering all the time. I always feel like I'm not doing enough, or being enough, or creating enough hand-print art for family members. I feel like I'm not teaching enough or being present enough. But the other day, I got a wonderful reminder: no matter how "not enough" I feel, my kids are getting enough of me and from me.
A few months ago, my oldest son was having a rough day. He was just being really defiant and struggling with his behavior. I was trying to be patient, but feeling like I wasn't succeeding very well. At one point he looked at me and said, "You're weird!" Now that doesn't sound like much, but from his tone and body language I knew he was trying to hurt my feelings. So I sat down him and explained to him two things. First, trying to hurt someone else's feelings when you are upset is not a good way to handle being upset. We came up with a few ways for him to tell me when he's upset or things he can do when he's upset.
The second thing I explained was that being "weird" is not a bad thing. It just means you are different, you are unique. I wanted him to know that his insult wasn't really an insult to me, partly because if anyone ever calls him weird, I want him to be OK with that. In our house, weird is an OK thing to be. But I also wanted him to know that even if someone says something to him and means it as an insult, he doesn't have to take it that way (whether it's being weird or anything else).
I didn't think of this day much until earlier this week. I picked up my son from school and he was telling me all about his day (we call it downloading because he just let's the information fly!). He noticed that one of his classmates was behind us. His classmate was walking with his older brother. The brother was saying the he was older and in a higher grade so he was better. He was basically cutting down his brother for being younger. Just brothers bickering. My son tried to introduce me to his classmate, but his classmate was too busy with his brother. As my son turned back to talk to me, his classmate pointed at me and said, "She looks weird!"
I did not think about it at all. He was a kid trying to impress his older brother, who was trying to convince everyone within earshot that he was the better brother. That's it. I wasn't mad or upset, I just ignored it because I knew he was trying to get a rise out of either me or his brother. But he did manage to get a rise out of my son. He turned to his classmate and said, very loudly, "She's NOT weird, she's just different!"
HOLY. COW. A lesson I taught him got through. And he just defended me to his peer. I was so proud of him in that moment. He then proceeded to carry on and finish telling me about his day, as if nothing big had just happened. His reaction suggested to me that what he did was just a normal thing for him. I wondered if he had done this before; he did is so easily. When his classmate tried to talk to him again, my son just ignored him as we walked back to the car.
I can only hope that this lesson will stick with him. But I felt like I had FINALLY done something right. But you know what? I've been doing things right. For him to pick up that lesson, it wasn't just the talk we had one day a few months ago. He's been picking up on these things from the beginning. And that's a pretty awesome feeling.
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Thursday, August 20, 2015
Back to School!
It's that time of year! Some of you mama's have kiddos who have already started school, some of you are like me and are still anticipating the first day of school. I am looking forward to it and I wanted to share with you why it is so exciting for me (and I promise it's not why you think!).
Before I start talking about this year, I need to give a little bit of history. I am a self-proclaimed nerd and people who know me know that I LOVED school. I always have, which is probably why I am still in school. Anyway, for me it wasn't (and never has been) about getting new school supplies, new clothes, and moving to a new classroom. That was part of it, but it was also about the promise of everything I had to learn. I was always so excited about what knowledge was to be had that year, what I was going to know at the end of the year that I didn't know at the beginning. I didn't always know how to articulate that, but I understand it now.
My oldest son is starting kindergarten this year. So it's not really back to school for us, it's starting school. I know that for a lot of mama's the first day of kindergarten is bittersweet. It's a reminder that our children are growing up, that they won't need us forever. Maybe I'm a little bit different, but I am not sad. I am SO excited for what this means for him. He has so much to learn and he is so excited about learning. He is so curious and soaks up information like a sponge. He is going to be in a place with other kiddos who are the same way and will have a teacher who will be able to help him learn.
I do have concerns about him making friends, I have concerns about the education he will get. I have concerns about bullying, whether he is the bully or the bullied. I am concerned that I have not prepared him enough. But if I feed into those concerns, it will eat me alive. It may even impact him and I don't want that to happen. If problems occur, and no doubt they will, we will have to address them one at a time.
So for all of you mama's who are sending kiddos off to school, for the first time or the last, it's OK. As long as they know that you love them, they will be just fine.
Sunday, June 14, 2015
This Time It's Not OK
Tonight was a tie for the hardest night of my life. Both nights, about 6 months apart, no one showed up for my son's birthday parties. Well, I shouldn't say no one. We have one family that came to our rescue both times so that both boys had someone here to sing to them and eat cake. But, I digress. After some thinking, and complaining, I think I know what happened.
I think most of us are familiar with the so-called Mommy Wars. Mom's fighting over all kinds of things, some that don't even matter. Breast versus bottle, co-sleep versus not, when to start solids, it starts so young! I have been the target of it. I have been called lazy for not being able to breast feed either of my boys to a year. I have been told that my youngest son, who has sensory issues, is just a picky eater and I just wanted to diagnose him with something so that I could feel better about my rotten parenting skills. I have been told that boys will be boys, when I clearly knew something was going on with my youngest son.
But I realized tonight that the Mommy Wars have spilled over to my kids. Allow me to explain. We live in a rural area, and because of financial issues, we have hosted the boys' parties at our house. Which means that people who come have to drive, not a long way, but a bit. I print off invitations that I get for free on the internet. For both boys, I sent 20 invitations to their daycare. For my oldest son, we had 2 RSVP's who never showed up. For my youngest son, we didn't have any RSVP's at all. So over the last week, we started calling people we work with, begging people to come. We had people who said they were going to come and didn't show.
Any parent who gets our invite can see that it is not fancy, it is not custom, it is not personalized. Any parent who gets our invite can see that we are having the party at home and might assume that we cannot afford to have it somewhere else. Which means that we aren't paying for a venue, or color-coordinated gift bags, or a specialty bake shop cake made with Madagascar vanilla and chocolate from the Amazon rain forest or something. Which could mean moms don't want to come. We are not competitive in the birthday party part of the Mommy Wars.
I'm sure you know of a mom like that. The one that goes way overboard with the theme. Everything matches, everything is custom, everything is expensive. The mom that wants to have the best party on the block or at the kids school. She is trying to prove her worth as a mom through her kids' party. She may have things that are totally unrealistic, hoping that nobody can top what she is doing. She makes homemade things for the party that she found on Pinterest. Or maybe she is the one posting on her blog, which ends up on Pinterest, and then I get it for free.
Look, I get it. Parents want their kids to have fun on their birthday, everyone wants to. But here's the deal. I want my kids to have fun and for them, they don't need fancy stuff. They want kids to play with, someone to sing to them, and people to eat cake with. They don't even really care about presents. And I'm not going to go crazy because they don't want crazy.
Overall, what I'm saying is that I think people didn't come to our party because they didn't think it was going to be fun. I think people didn't come because it was out of their way, it was not convenient for them. And my kids paid the price for that. As an adult, I think we have all had at least one crappy birthday. It's not a good feeling, is it? How do you think I felt when I had explain to my 5 year old that the one family that came was his whole party, but he thought that they had just come over for dinner? He cried and asked me when we were going to have his party and he just couldn't understand it. It broke my heart and tonight, when I realized everyone had backed out (except that one family, again) my heart broke again.
These Mommy Wars are ridiculous. How is it a good idea to tear each other apart? But when it trickles down to our children I think we all agree that we need it to stop. This is bad on so many levels. What are we teaching our children by doing this? We are teaching them that material things matter more than others feelings. And then we wonder why this generation has no manners, no empathy, no heart. WE AREN'T TEACHING IT TO THEM BY FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER.
Normally I end a post by saying it's OK. But this is not OK. The Mommy Wars are not OK. I refuse to take part and I am not going to tear another NTPM down because she is making choices for her children that she feels are best. Every mother knows her child(ren) best and who am I to judge her for doing what she thinks she should? She has way more knowledge and information to make that decision than I have to judge her for doing so. Anybody else with me?
I think most of us are familiar with the so-called Mommy Wars. Mom's fighting over all kinds of things, some that don't even matter. Breast versus bottle, co-sleep versus not, when to start solids, it starts so young! I have been the target of it. I have been called lazy for not being able to breast feed either of my boys to a year. I have been told that my youngest son, who has sensory issues, is just a picky eater and I just wanted to diagnose him with something so that I could feel better about my rotten parenting skills. I have been told that boys will be boys, when I clearly knew something was going on with my youngest son.
But I realized tonight that the Mommy Wars have spilled over to my kids. Allow me to explain. We live in a rural area, and because of financial issues, we have hosted the boys' parties at our house. Which means that people who come have to drive, not a long way, but a bit. I print off invitations that I get for free on the internet. For both boys, I sent 20 invitations to their daycare. For my oldest son, we had 2 RSVP's who never showed up. For my youngest son, we didn't have any RSVP's at all. So over the last week, we started calling people we work with, begging people to come. We had people who said they were going to come and didn't show.
Any parent who gets our invite can see that it is not fancy, it is not custom, it is not personalized. Any parent who gets our invite can see that we are having the party at home and might assume that we cannot afford to have it somewhere else. Which means that we aren't paying for a venue, or color-coordinated gift bags, or a specialty bake shop cake made with Madagascar vanilla and chocolate from the Amazon rain forest or something. Which could mean moms don't want to come. We are not competitive in the birthday party part of the Mommy Wars.
I'm sure you know of a mom like that. The one that goes way overboard with the theme. Everything matches, everything is custom, everything is expensive. The mom that wants to have the best party on the block or at the kids school. She is trying to prove her worth as a mom through her kids' party. She may have things that are totally unrealistic, hoping that nobody can top what she is doing. She makes homemade things for the party that she found on Pinterest. Or maybe she is the one posting on her blog, which ends up on Pinterest, and then I get it for free.
Look, I get it. Parents want their kids to have fun on their birthday, everyone wants to. But here's the deal. I want my kids to have fun and for them, they don't need fancy stuff. They want kids to play with, someone to sing to them, and people to eat cake with. They don't even really care about presents. And I'm not going to go crazy because they don't want crazy.
Overall, what I'm saying is that I think people didn't come to our party because they didn't think it was going to be fun. I think people didn't come because it was out of their way, it was not convenient for them. And my kids paid the price for that. As an adult, I think we have all had at least one crappy birthday. It's not a good feeling, is it? How do you think I felt when I had explain to my 5 year old that the one family that came was his whole party, but he thought that they had just come over for dinner? He cried and asked me when we were going to have his party and he just couldn't understand it. It broke my heart and tonight, when I realized everyone had backed out (except that one family, again) my heart broke again.
These Mommy Wars are ridiculous. How is it a good idea to tear each other apart? But when it trickles down to our children I think we all agree that we need it to stop. This is bad on so many levels. What are we teaching our children by doing this? We are teaching them that material things matter more than others feelings. And then we wonder why this generation has no manners, no empathy, no heart. WE AREN'T TEACHING IT TO THEM BY FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER.
Normally I end a post by saying it's OK. But this is not OK. The Mommy Wars are not OK. I refuse to take part and I am not going to tear another NTPM down because she is making choices for her children that she feels are best. Every mother knows her child(ren) best and who am I to judge her for doing what she thinks she should? She has way more knowledge and information to make that decision than I have to judge her for doing so. Anybody else with me?
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Losing a Family Member
We lost a member of our family today. It was not a grandmother, or a cousin, or anything like that. She was our first dog, Daisy. I know that not everyone understands having pets and not everyone agrees with having them. But in our family, some of the members are furry and walk on all fours.
My husband and I got Daisy before we got married. In April of 2004, I saw her on a rescue site and fell in love. While we both grew up around dogs, hubby was hesitant because we were both in college at the time. He was worried about making sure we would have enough time to take care of a pet. Eventually I got him to agree to just "meet" her. We set up a meeting and found out that two other families were interested in adopting her, besides us. I saw her get out of the rescuers' car and I knew she was going home with us. As we were told her story (a farmer had found her wandering his fields and was going to shoot her until his wife talked him into catching her and taking her to the pound; she was set to be put down because she had been there too long when the rescue organization stepped in before that could happen), Daisy laid her head in my lap. The rest is history.
Daisy was a source of never ending love. I still maintain that she was so grateful to be rescued that she did everything she could to please us. A few years later, we added to our family. Bear, a Bernese Mountain Dog (BMD or Berner), was adopted in 2008. Daisy is the reason we adopted Bear. We knew Daisy was a BMD/border collie mix. After realizing what a sweet disposition she had, we did research into the BMD breed and found out that Berner's are very sweet. loving, and good with children. We were sold, all thanks to Daisy.
In 2009, we added to our family again. This time, we had a baby boy. She took to him immediately and watched over him all the time. She never growled, grumbled, or showed her teeth to him, even when he would accidentally pull her tail when learning to walk or fall on her when he would trip. Daisy loved him, unconditionally. She was the exact same way when we added to our family again, another son, in 2011.
I don't want to focus on the end, but suffice it to say she went downhill quickly and we knew that we had to do something. It was time. She had a seizure and then started what my dad calls the endless circle (pacing and walking in circles).
Bear watched over her until the end. My husband and I knew we had to tell the boys what was going on as the night progressed and things started getting worse. My youngest, who is 3, was fine. I'm not sure he totally understood what was happening, but we gave him the chance to say goodbye and give her one last hug.
My oldest, on the other hand, did not take it well. I knew he wasn't going to. But I also knew we had to tell him the truth, and not make it sound like she was being shipped off to a farm somewhere. First, if it sounded like that he would want to try to see her again. And second, we wanted him to understand that she was not going to be suffering anymore.
He lost it. He tried to negotiate. He tried to suggest ways to help her, to fix whatever was wrong with her. He wanted to feed her, thinking it was her stomach. We had to explain that something was wrong with her head, and the vet couldn't fix it.
I know people who don't get having pets would wonder why we would put ourselves through this, put our children through something like this. "Your son is hurting! He is so young to feel pain like that!" Yes, he is hurting and no, he's not too young. Know why? Because he got to feel unconditionally loved by someone who NEVER hurt him. Daisy loved him with all of her being; she loved all of us that way. She never talked back. never questioned, never made him feel unwanted. When he wanted to give her hugs or pet her, she was there. When he talked about our family, she (along with the other pets we have) was always listed as a member, not as just a pet. He saw her as a part of this family. And she was.
He got to learn how to take care of someone other than himself. He got to know the high of getting a kiss or the warmth of her laying next to him. He got to feel all of that love. But with the highs, also come the lows. To appreciate the love he felt, he is now hurting because Daisy's love is no longer right here with him. He will have to learn to remember her kisses and her warmth, but without having her at all, he wouldn't have anything to remember. He will always have her love in his heart.
It tears me apart to hear him cry himself to sleep tonight, clinging to her picture and calling out for her. But in his pain, I also hear his love for her. Which is an amazing thing. He is 5, and loved someone so deeply that he is calling out to her. Can you imagine the kind of love he has for her? Pet people know this, and if you've never had a pet that you loved this way, you are missing out. Every pet adoption comes with the promise of this kind of love, but also with the knowledge that it won't last forever. So we make the most of the time that we have with our pets, because we love them and they love us back. But they love us in a way that we can never fully understand or appreciate. We get tied up in ourselves; pets don't do that. They love regardless.
When the time comes, we will probably move on and adopt again. As George Carlin once noted, "Life is a series of dogs." So ours will be. We will all learn to love again, we will all be hurt again. But we wouldn't have it any other way. And you know what? That's OK.
Rest in peace, my dear Daisy. We all miss you more than you will ever know.
My husband and I got Daisy before we got married. In April of 2004, I saw her on a rescue site and fell in love. While we both grew up around dogs, hubby was hesitant because we were both in college at the time. He was worried about making sure we would have enough time to take care of a pet. Eventually I got him to agree to just "meet" her. We set up a meeting and found out that two other families were interested in adopting her, besides us. I saw her get out of the rescuers' car and I knew she was going home with us. As we were told her story (a farmer had found her wandering his fields and was going to shoot her until his wife talked him into catching her and taking her to the pound; she was set to be put down because she had been there too long when the rescue organization stepped in before that could happen), Daisy laid her head in my lap. The rest is history.
Daisy was a source of never ending love. I still maintain that she was so grateful to be rescued that she did everything she could to please us. A few years later, we added to our family. Bear, a Bernese Mountain Dog (BMD or Berner), was adopted in 2008. Daisy is the reason we adopted Bear. We knew Daisy was a BMD/border collie mix. After realizing what a sweet disposition she had, we did research into the BMD breed and found out that Berner's are very sweet. loving, and good with children. We were sold, all thanks to Daisy.
In 2009, we added to our family again. This time, we had a baby boy. She took to him immediately and watched over him all the time. She never growled, grumbled, or showed her teeth to him, even when he would accidentally pull her tail when learning to walk or fall on her when he would trip. Daisy loved him, unconditionally. She was the exact same way when we added to our family again, another son, in 2011.
I don't want to focus on the end, but suffice it to say she went downhill quickly and we knew that we had to do something. It was time. She had a seizure and then started what my dad calls the endless circle (pacing and walking in circles).
Bear watched over her until the end. My husband and I knew we had to tell the boys what was going on as the night progressed and things started getting worse. My youngest, who is 3, was fine. I'm not sure he totally understood what was happening, but we gave him the chance to say goodbye and give her one last hug.
My oldest, on the other hand, did not take it well. I knew he wasn't going to. But I also knew we had to tell him the truth, and not make it sound like she was being shipped off to a farm somewhere. First, if it sounded like that he would want to try to see her again. And second, we wanted him to understand that she was not going to be suffering anymore.
He lost it. He tried to negotiate. He tried to suggest ways to help her, to fix whatever was wrong with her. He wanted to feed her, thinking it was her stomach. We had to explain that something was wrong with her head, and the vet couldn't fix it.
I know people who don't get having pets would wonder why we would put ourselves through this, put our children through something like this. "Your son is hurting! He is so young to feel pain like that!" Yes, he is hurting and no, he's not too young. Know why? Because he got to feel unconditionally loved by someone who NEVER hurt him. Daisy loved him with all of her being; she loved all of us that way. She never talked back. never questioned, never made him feel unwanted. When he wanted to give her hugs or pet her, she was there. When he talked about our family, she (along with the other pets we have) was always listed as a member, not as just a pet. He saw her as a part of this family. And she was.
He got to learn how to take care of someone other than himself. He got to know the high of getting a kiss or the warmth of her laying next to him. He got to feel all of that love. But with the highs, also come the lows. To appreciate the love he felt, he is now hurting because Daisy's love is no longer right here with him. He will have to learn to remember her kisses and her warmth, but without having her at all, he wouldn't have anything to remember. He will always have her love in his heart.
It tears me apart to hear him cry himself to sleep tonight, clinging to her picture and calling out for her. But in his pain, I also hear his love for her. Which is an amazing thing. He is 5, and loved someone so deeply that he is calling out to her. Can you imagine the kind of love he has for her? Pet people know this, and if you've never had a pet that you loved this way, you are missing out. Every pet adoption comes with the promise of this kind of love, but also with the knowledge that it won't last forever. So we make the most of the time that we have with our pets, because we love them and they love us back. But they love us in a way that we can never fully understand or appreciate. We get tied up in ourselves; pets don't do that. They love regardless.
When the time comes, we will probably move on and adopt again. As George Carlin once noted, "Life is a series of dogs." So ours will be. We will all learn to love again, we will all be hurt again. But we wouldn't have it any other way. And you know what? That's OK.
Rest in peace, my dear Daisy. We all miss you more than you will ever know.
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
The Moment I Became a Special Needs Mom
I don't think any mom anticipates having a special needs child, even when the risks are high. We all want to beat the odds. But realistically, there are children out there with special needs so chances are either you have one (or more than one) or know someone who does. That is part of the reason why I am writing this post.
It's interesting to think about the fact that I became a special needs mom the second my youngest son was born; I just didn't know it yet. He had some health issues after birth and spent 10 days in the NICU. His first year of life was rough for everyone, as he rarely slept more than a few hours at a stretch and we could not figure out why. He was seen by numerous specialists who ruled out some diagnoses and gave him others, none of which my husband and I agreed with. We both knew something was going on, we just didn't know what it was.
As time passed, he met all of his milestones on time except one. He didn't really have much to say. At first, we thought it was because he has an older brother who likes to speak for him. He had 2 sets of ear tubes and his adenoids removed, which we thought would help his speech. Fluid in the ears would make everything sound funny and could delay speech. But as he got older and was still not talking very much, we had him evaluated. His speech was delayed, along with a few other skills, but his speech was our biggest concern. He started speech therapy at 2 1/2 years old. But I did not see myself as a special needs mom.
Later on, he aged out of his first speech program and we had him evaluated for another. He qualified for that and also began receiving private speech therapy at home. We noticed that he did not eat much and would often refuse lunch at daycare and dinner at home. He would eat certain foods, but they were limited. Feeling like he was just going through a phase, we still served him what everyone was having for dinner whether he ate it or not. But he wasn't gaining weight. From January 2014 to December 2014, he didn't gain any weight at all. Our pediatrician tested him for food allergies, of which he had none. The next step was evaluation for physical therapy and occupational therapy to rule out (or include) any physical or sensory issues. But I did not see myself as a special needs mom.
He ended up qualifying for both services. Now we were up to 4 types of therapy: private speech, speech through the public school district, physical therapy (PT), and occupational therapy (OT). This totaled 9 appointments a week. I was so tired from making sure he got to all appointments, frantically trying to schedule all of his appointments every week so that there was no overlap, that I didn't even have time to see myself as a special needs mom.
After about a month of OT, we realized the only therapy he was really getting was fine/gross motor skills, which include things like putting beads on a thread, picking up small items, etc. We did not think this was what he needed. We really felt like he had some sensory issues and after I talked to my aunt, who is an OT in another state, everyone agreed we needed a second opinion. So I started researching OT clinics that have equipment in the facility to do sensory OT therapy. The OT he was getting was in our home, so all of that equipment was really not available to him. I found a place and we were able to get him in for another OT evaluation. But I still did not see myself as a special needs mom.
After his second evaluation, it was clear from talking to the new OT that he has some sensory issues. I asked her if we were justified in thinking that he needed the sensory therapy (versus the motor skills) and she replied, "Yes." That, my friends, is the moment I became a special needs mom.
It was that moment because I finally had confirmation of what was going on with my son. I had known for some time that there was something a little off for him. I could tell that his "picky" eating was different from the phase my older son went through. I could tell that his meltdowns were different than his older brother's. And now, I had someone who could tell me why. I also realized in that moment, that this was something we were going to deal with for the rest of his life. Eventually his speech with catch up and he will probably no longer need speech therapy. He has already been discharged from PT, and even though he has flat feet, it's not bad enough to keep him from being active. So there is really nothing else for us to do in that area.
But this, the sensory issues, will be with him forever. He will always have aversions to some things. With therapy he should be able to manage them, but he's going to sense things in a way that is different from me. I cannot ever understand that, but as a special needs mom, I have to help him understand it for himself. It is now my job to help be the best he can be, while trying to enter his world, which is one I can never fully know.
I want all of you NTPM's out there to know a couple of things that I have learned from this experience so far. First, if you feel like something is going on with one of your kiddos, whether it's behavioral, medical, or something else, DO NOT GIVE UP. I can't tell you how many doctor's and specialists we've seen who probably thought I was nuts because I kept insisting something was wrong and I knew it wasn't a dairy allergy or acid reflux. Keep pushing until you find someone who will listen and believe you. You will find them, it just might take some time. Because once you do, everything changes. As soon as the OT told us her findings, it explained everything that had been going on in my son's life. It all made sense. And if you keep pushing, you will find that, too.
Second, if you have a special needs child, DO NOT BLAME YOURSELF. I know some of the mom's I met in the NICU blamed themselves for their child being there. Some of you may feel that way. You get a case of the woulda, coulda, shoulda's. Don't. It is NOT your fault. Your child was given to you because you are the only one who can fight for them, take care of them, and be their advocate. I never blamed myself and I really can't explain why, but I think it's because I knew I did everything I could to take care of him before he was born and I was prepared to do whatever if took after he born. It didn't matter what happened, he's my son.
Lastly, if you do not have a special needs child but know someone who does, HELP HER. Be there to listen if she's frustrated and needs to vent because no one else is listening. Ask her if there is anything you can do, even if it's just go for a cup of coffee or cook dinner for her family. Offer to drive to appointments one day or take her to get her nails done. Never judge her for her children or their behavior. Let her know you are there for her, you love her and her kids. Similarly, if you have a special needs kid and you know someone else who has a special needs kid, support each other, too. Don't be afraid to ask for help and don't be afraid to take it when it's offered.
Every mom thinks she has the perfect child and every mom is right. And you know what? It's OK.
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