In this whole "parenting a child with a disability" world, I am a strong mom.
I am the mom who boldly declares that my child is "fearfully and wonderfully made", even after cleaning poop off the walls for the 5th time that week. I'm the mom that gives staring strangers a smile or eye roll and moves on without them phasing me. I'm the mom that professionals forget to sugar coat things with. I'm the mom that doesn't need much support, I'm fine.
So yesterday I was out with my Bug, who by all accounts is mostly an average 18 month old - except she's in a 7 year old's body and has some other fun complications.
So, we're in the big, fancy city 4 1/2 hours from our piece of paradise 15 miles from nowhere. She's tired, out of her comfort zone, just finished a doctor visit (which she hates), and I'm currently dragging her through as many errands as possible. Gotta get everything done while we're in the city! She's not happy with this plan. And she's not very verbal, so we're not sitting down for tea and telling me she's unhappy - she's screeching randomly and refusing to walk, except for occasionally taking off to go stare awkwardly at old men, who are largely missing the fact that they are supposed to smile and blow kisses like Papa does. ;-)
After an hour or so of this, I'm exhausted and my back hurts. I'm also emotionally exhausted. Sometimes I forget the emotional load of this life. I'd been working to get into this appointment for almost a year, I had a huge list of questions, and I wasn't sure if I would even be taken seriously. And then I was taken seriously and scheduled for follow up, and then I found myself wishing that there was no reason for follow up. Because, you know, follow up is because of medical concerns. And nobody actually WANTS medical concerns.
And then there's the whole emotional exhaustion of trying desperately to figure out what she wants. She's screeching, I know she's not happy, I can see she wants or needs something - but she can't tell me what. So I'm trying to coax words out and prevent a total meltdown, but I know the words won't come while she's frustrated. Some days raising a non-verbal child is just exhausting. It is.
We get to Target; and after a fun meltdown she's in the basket and we're looking at clothes for her in relative calm. A woman comes up to me and stops me. She looked me in the eyes and tells me "I just want to tell you that you're doing a good job. You are doing a good job."
I was mostly speechless, but she told me she saw I was having a hard time, she's a fellow special needs mom, and she understands. And then she handed me a Starbucks gift card and told me she wanted me to take a break. And she left.
And that's the story of how I cried like a baby in the little girl's clothing section of Target. Because, you know, sometimes I'm not the strong mom. Sometimes I'm the exhausted, frazzled, mom who is completely overwhelmed by this hard life I've been given. I'm so thankful that the strong mom took time to lift me up.
That 5 minute exchange and gift card was one of the most powerful things to happen to me in a long time.
Go lift someone up today. Life is hard, and we're in this together.
For the record, when we were leaving town I gave Bug her favorite drink so she'd be happy for awhile, ran through the Starbucks drive through, cranked up my favorite radio station, and drank the best darn Starbucks I've ever had. And I found rest, even in the middle of the long drive home.
Thank you strong mom for lifting me up yesterday. You are a world changer.
I am the mom who boldly declares that my child is "fearfully and wonderfully made", even after cleaning poop off the walls for the 5th time that week. I'm the mom that gives staring strangers a smile or eye roll and moves on without them phasing me. I'm the mom that professionals forget to sugar coat things with. I'm the mom that doesn't need much support, I'm fine.
So yesterday I was out with my Bug, who by all accounts is mostly an average 18 month old - except she's in a 7 year old's body and has some other fun complications.
So, we're in the big, fancy city 4 1/2 hours from our piece of paradise 15 miles from nowhere. She's tired, out of her comfort zone, just finished a doctor visit (which she hates), and I'm currently dragging her through as many errands as possible. Gotta get everything done while we're in the city! She's not happy with this plan. And she's not very verbal, so we're not sitting down for tea and telling me she's unhappy - she's screeching randomly and refusing to walk, except for occasionally taking off to go stare awkwardly at old men, who are largely missing the fact that they are supposed to smile and blow kisses like Papa does. ;-)
After an hour or so of this, I'm exhausted and my back hurts. I'm also emotionally exhausted. Sometimes I forget the emotional load of this life. I'd been working to get into this appointment for almost a year, I had a huge list of questions, and I wasn't sure if I would even be taken seriously. And then I was taken seriously and scheduled for follow up, and then I found myself wishing that there was no reason for follow up. Because, you know, follow up is because of medical concerns. And nobody actually WANTS medical concerns.
And then there's the whole emotional exhaustion of trying desperately to figure out what she wants. She's screeching, I know she's not happy, I can see she wants or needs something - but she can't tell me what. So I'm trying to coax words out and prevent a total meltdown, but I know the words won't come while she's frustrated. Some days raising a non-verbal child is just exhausting. It is.
We get to Target; and after a fun meltdown she's in the basket and we're looking at clothes for her in relative calm. A woman comes up to me and stops me. She looked me in the eyes and tells me "I just want to tell you that you're doing a good job. You are doing a good job."
I was mostly speechless, but she told me she saw I was having a hard time, she's a fellow special needs mom, and she understands. And then she handed me a Starbucks gift card and told me she wanted me to take a break. And she left.
And that's the story of how I cried like a baby in the little girl's clothing section of Target. Because, you know, sometimes I'm not the strong mom. Sometimes I'm the exhausted, frazzled, mom who is completely overwhelmed by this hard life I've been given. I'm so thankful that the strong mom took time to lift me up.
That 5 minute exchange and gift card was one of the most powerful things to happen to me in a long time.
Go lift someone up today. Life is hard, and we're in this together.
For the record, when we were leaving town I gave Bug her favorite drink so she'd be happy for awhile, ran through the Starbucks drive through, cranked up my favorite radio station, and drank the best darn Starbucks I've ever had. And I found rest, even in the middle of the long drive home.
Thank you strong mom for lifting me up yesterday. You are a world changer.
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