Not exactly with flying colors mind you, unless you count the vomit that kept coming for an hour after he awoke...
But one thing that was very endearing to me was that he was wanting me to hold him and hug him to help him feel better. I'm sure a little bit of it was the meds and a little bit of it was his anxiety, but I'm thankful that a lot of it was because I'm Mom.
He's been hugging me more lately.
Not his typical back into my arms hug so that I can kiss the back of his head and try to squeeze him quick as he wrestles away, these are full-on hugs! And he is getting so tall! He doesn't have a lot of meat on him, but he has long, manly arms and big hands and it is such an experience to have him give me real hugs and truly realize that he is not just a boy anymore.
Those are the kinds of things I notice for signs of growing up.
Our life isn't exactly typical so we don't measure success typically either.
I love talking with other parents of children with special needs because we love to giggle about how we celebrate such, seemingly to others, small milestones and accomplishments.
Like this milestone of being able to do a fancy hairdo on Baby and not have her take it out while screaming and pulling at her hair 5 minutes after it's done...
Sometimes I think I should try standup comedy and just talk about parenting children with special needs and how I say a lot of the same things that parents of typical kids say, like, "You need to learn to go potty!" -- only the one you're saying it to is almost 8 and not 2. Or "Stop licking your fingers and then dipping your hand in the lemonade!" -- only this is said to your 17-year-old who loves lemonade and this is at the restaurant and it wasn't even his lemonade... or yours... Or the experience of trying to calm your daughter who is terrified of new social situations and you are in a public place and everyone is turning to see what toddler is throwing a melt-down and they realize it's what they see as "A spoiled preteen not wanting to be seen with her parents."
I don't think I'll ever get over having to wipe food off my almost 18-year-old's face while trying not to draw too much a attention to the spit I'm using to wipe away the crusties from the meal previous that I forgot to wipe his mouth from.
Oh, and what about those cute leggings my daughter loves to wear and they look so cute on her until her diaper starts to sag and it looks like she's packing something back there... Baby got back!
Oh, the funny of Our Life.
Sister told me today that she didn't want to go to a Young Women's activity. I explained to her that they were doing yoga (one of her favorite exercises) and she says, "Nope! I hate yoga! Always hate yoga. No yoga for me. No yoga for you. No yoga!" These desperate shouts were closely followed by stomping, wailing and gnashing of teeth... quite literally.
Then when her ride showed up she was all smiles, got excited to say "hello" and bounced to her seat.
She puts a whole new spin on the emotional "teenage girl"... trust me.
Then I get a note from Baby's teacher saying that she was "grabbing another students butt" and when told not to do it she "Shushed" the teacher and said "no."
Oh boy.
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| First day of 7th Grade at the Junior High! |
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| First Day of second grade and being on her own at the elementary Sister graduated from. (I guess that's her "game face" to prep for the sport of school) |
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| This is Lou! He's been one of our kids bus driver's every school year since we moved here in 2012. He just takes turns each year. This year Baby gets the privilege. |
Never a dull moment... well, it may get a little dull at times... but if I let it get dull for too long, then the depression starts to sneak in. So, I've decided that not only do I laugh when something is funny, but keep the dullness lively by laughing then too... OK, at least smiling... not creepy like a girl sitting in the middle of the room staring blankly at the wall while smiling a overly big, toothy grin... Ew. Creepers.
Anyway, sometimes I get very overwhelmed by our tasks at hand and I doubt my knowledge, abilities and experience.
Then I have a friend contact me to ask how things are going and I share the latest experience and copy my response to Baby's teacher:
We started her on an anxiety medicine this summer which has given her the benefit of more speech and communication, but it has also added to her need for sensory input. I guess her anxieties held her back a bit and now she just goes for it! So, yes, as much sensory as possible. I will start making sure to give her deep sensory input in the mornings before she gets on the bus in the morning and I'll report to you when I do to see if it helps at all. It may also be a good idea to give her some strong sensory input when she gets off the bus, i.e. a big bear hug, time on the swing or wrapping tight in a blanket, etc.
I'm positive she's testing her limits, but she does need deep/pressure sensory input at least every 30 minutes. More if it's a rough day. A weighted vest or lap pad can help too.
And at home if she sasses we tell her firmly but gently (or she breaks into hysterical tears) "Baby, no. We don't talk like that. Use your nice words."
And when she does her babble or baby talk we remind her to talk like a big girl.
Then our friend reassures me that that was exactly what I should say and that I was right.
Mom win moment.
Let's all think about that success...
...
...
Yep, that was a moment of silence for quick passing of that "win" moment.
I don't always have "win" moments.
Rarely, really.
But, I guess winning the war is about all the battles you stand to fight, so if you put it in perspective that I have been parenting for almost 18 years that's about 215 mom wins if I give myself a generous average of one win per month...
Blah... who am I kidding. I am no numbers person.
I'm all about the feels. If I stay positive I feel like I'm winning a fair amount of the time.
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| I had to take this pic of him while waiting for them to take him back to the surgery room, but I wish this photo had sound so you could her the movie "RIO" cranked up load... and yes the TV is about 2 feet from his face. |
If I'm being negative I probably won't be counting the "mom wins," let alone be grateful for them. As long as I keep moving forward and upward through my battles and not fall and roll back down, I'm going to stay positive about it.
So I guess I'm writing this to myself as I am trying to stay positive knowing that the decision was made today that surgery does need to be done on my ankle.
Yep.
That one I hurt all the way back in January of this year, it's not healing, so surgery it must be.
Sigh.
I hate surgery.
More than surgery, I hate anesthesia.
You remember at the beginning of this post when I talked about Brother's "flying colors."
Ya.
Who's going to hold my vomit bag and bear hug me while I have vomit dangling from my lip?
Maybe Brother will.
