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