J's Mother

I was in my pediatrician's office a few weeks ago for J2's five year well check and after telling him the following story he asked "is there anything you don't do?"  The simple answer is: No.  I will do and continue to do anything and everything I possibly can to help my child.  It was what I was biologically made for and it is who I am in my soul.  I didn't just impart 50% of my genetic material to an offspring.  I am raising my boy.  And sometimes that takes me out of my comfort level.

My youngest has sensory processing disorder, ADHD, and a speech delay.  He is also "off-the-charts" big in height and weight.  Which means he is a good inch or so taller than kids a year older than himself.

My oldest is also tall and I have had a few times when people expected him to behave better (when he was 3 and someone thought he was 5).  Compound that with a child who is delayed both in speech and in his social interactions.  He may look to be about 6 or so, but he acts and talks like a 4 year old.

He is very bright, his delays in speech are improving dramatically and with his twice-weekly occupational therapy sessions he is learning to adjust and control himself.  He is still slightly behind socially but I have full confidence that he will catch up.

He attends a special needs preschool where he fits in beautifully but as I have mentioned before: things have not always gone well in the sports world.

http://survivingaftersudep.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-persepective-of-baseball.html

J2 is a bit clumsy, a bit impulsive, a bit loud, and a bit clingy to his mother.  There are children who accept him as he is and play with him and there are children that shun him.

It is hard on a mother to see the latter happen.   We may have given up on baseball but my son plays hockey.  He is a very good skater and while he holds his stick incorrectly and ignores the puck in a hockey game: he is young and he will learn about the game soon enough. 

What wasn't working out was the social aspect of the team.  The team he is on are all young players 5 and 6 years old and in a short amount of time a group of older boys decided to target him.  They teased him, taunted him and started to pick on him (knocking his stick away, taking the puck away during free skate).  I could see this happen while I sat on the bleachers.  I could see my child skating then have another boy talk to him.  I could see my child's face contort in anger or sadness and I could see when he fell to the ice to cry and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

Until, I saw a boy hook his stick around my son's throat and drag him 5 feet.  Then I went to the father, who happened to be a coach.  It was nerve wracking but the father gave the event attention and respect and I felt better.  I still didn't know what to do about what was going on but I was working with my child on not reacting to the taunts.  Until my friend ASW suggested we become coaches too.

My hesitation was that:

1) I have never played hockey
2) I have never had skating lessons and
3) WTF?

I thought about it and within a week I agreed.  I may not be a great skater but I can stay upright and I can learn hockey. So I took the coach's class, did the online modules and took my butt out on the ice.   I'm not really a "coach" more like crowd control on the ice.  The first day, after 20 minutes I thought my feet would fall off.  Within 40 minutes they were frozen solid but at least they didn't hurt anymore so I was good.  I am how a Level 1 Certified USA Hockey coach and skate every weekend with the team and with my son.  He is doing great and there is no more teasing.  No more taunting.  In the locker room some of the kids, even one's that had been mean to him, have come over to talk with him and look at what he is doing.

There isn't anything I won't do for this boy.  I am J's mother.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Widow

The Tracks of My Tears

If you saw me yesterday would you have said you saw me at my worst? 

I wouldn't: only because I know I can sink lower.

My life is not only complicated by the loss of Jeff but also with the special needs of my youngest son.  I was not at my finest in dealing with his meltdown yesterday.

Less than a month before Jeff died he was out in public with J2 and our son had a meltdown.  At that time, we knew something was going on with J2 but we didn't know what it was.  When he had meltdowns we usually would just wait it out or leave.  In this case, Jeff waited it out.  Our son was in a safe place and there wasn't much to do until he stopped.  Unfortunately, he drew the attention of security.  It upset Jeff and it upset me.  On the one hand I am happy that security came to investigate a screaming hysterical child because who knows what is going on? Was this man trying to kidnap him?  But on the other hand it compounds an already stressful situation.

A year later, it happened to me.  I was in public and J2 had a meltdown and he hit me.  Across the face.  It was not the first time he hit me and it wasn't the last time either.  I didn't yell at him, instead I chose to sit down where I was and restrain him to protect himself and myself from injury.  This also drew attention from security.  This time they challenged me on what I was doing.  I had J2 in a "body lock" sitting down with his arms crossed in a hug and my legs wrapped around him.  It was the best way to protect him from banging his head onto the floor.  I had used this position on him before but never in public.  The security guard said he looked frightened and I'm sure my child did.  But not that he was frightened of me.

It was later, with his diagnosis of sensory processing disorder did I fully realize the sights, sounds, smells, touch, and the sheer influx of people just set him off his rocker.  He also responds very well to compression so my "body lock" really was the most comforting thing I could do for him.

Yesterday J2 had a meltdown in the parking lot of his preschool.  Life has been very inconsistent for him this week and he doesn't respond well to that.  It had already been a challenging week.  With going to school, having days off due to weather, and my going back to work after the Christmas break, J2 decided he didn't want to go to school.  When the car door opened he took off running through the parking lot and up the entrance road.  He was not wearing his jacket and he was not responding to my commands to stop.  This was very dangerous given the 50 other people driving into this lot to drop their kids off.  When I caught up to him I had to physically move him out of the road.  This is not easy, my child is 60 pounds and nearly 4 feet tall.  He is very strong and very dense.  He was also intent on "walking home" so when I picked him up he started kicking/hitting/screaming. 

And he hit me.  I challenge anyone to hang onto a 60 pound child who is kicking and screaming.  Let alone one that just clocked you.  Hard.  So I dropped him.  We were off the road and in the grass.  In no way did I hurt him.  Like I said he's almost 4 feet tall so dropping him from the height in which I held him in no way could have hurt him.

At that point I got yelled at by a mother in a truck pulling into the parking lot.  I didn't pay her much attention because I was focused on my child.  I needed to get his jacket on (it was freezing) I needed to get his shoes on (he had kicked them off into the road so I had to dart in front of cars to get them). and I needed to keep him in the grass and not back on the road where he wanted to be.  I was very calm and very gentle with him.  I was getting no where in my attempt to get him closer  to his school and we were still dangerously close to the road.  As I was moving him closer to the school some of the staff came out to help me, which was greatly appreciated.  I went inside to drop off his bag and tell his teacher of the delay. 

As I did, I heard the mother from the truck talk about the incident and what she was saying was incorrect.  As I passed by her again, I couldn't help myself, I got into her face and yelled at her.  I was still upset from what happened with my child and to hear her portray me as "throwing" my child to the ground upset me.  (Again, he is 60 pounds I couldn't throw him if I wanted to). Whatever she saw in her 10 seconds was not what I had just lived through.  How dare she tell this story?  How dare she make me sound like an evil parent?  Does she have a special needs child?  Has she been hit/battered by her child?  Has she had her nose broken, lip split, cornea scratched by her child?

My children have been in this school for 6 years.  I know a good third of the people in that hallway and I am ashamed that I screamed at this mother.  But I was hurt, I was angry and I didn't not appreciate being judged on the 10 seconds she saw while she drove by.

Was I at my worst?  I was for that day.

I am not happy I dropped my child.  I am not happy I spanked him.  I am ashamed I screamed at some unknown mother in the hallway of my preschool and now I have to face all these people for the rest of the year.

When am I at my best?  I don't even need to tell you what I do for this child... that doesn't matter.  What does matter is how much I love him.  My baby.  My last boy.  The one that looks so much like his father, that we lost, that it squeezes my heart dry sometimes.  I am at my best when I hold him.  When I comfort him after he has gone out of control.  When he knows he has freaked out and it scares him too.

Can I sink lower?  Yes.  Can I get better?  Yes.  But I am still his mother and I love him more than my own life.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Widow