Catharsis
When I started this blog, it was for the catharsis of complaining about stuff I couldn't really change. this is one of those posts. I recommend skipping it and sticking to the diary type posts if you don't want to see me as a miserable, ungrateful whinger who doesn't appreciate what she's got.
I just want Mstr A to be normal. What is normal? I don't know, but I do know he's not. I can't explain to myself, let alone to others what I feel for him. he is my first born. My only son. The baby I knew I would never have. I love the girls completely, but i guess it's in a different way to how I love Mstr A - he is the child that completely changed my life, turned me into something i had never considered myself to be, or to be able to be. He is my gift to Aggie, who so wanted to be a father, but still stayed with me knowing he would never achieve it. He is my miracle baby - and the fact that that turned out to be completely untrue, does not change the emotions associated with him. the girls were additions. Nice additions. Wanted additions. But additions. Mstr A was unexpected, unlooked for and ill-timed, but he was never an addition - he was a complete U-turn in my life.
And of course i had considered, in theory, what i would want for my kids. All children do - when i have kids I will never.... When I'm a mother, I will always...... And even knowing that I wouldn't have any of my own, I formed strong opinions from working with children all my life. I never wanted my child to be great, talented, a genius, stupid, disabled, famous, infamous or notable in any way. All I wanted was for him to be normal & happy (doesn't every parent?)
I wanted to be sure his time at school would be remembered fondly - a little above average intelligence, a nice group of friends, good relationships with his teachers. I wanted him to join many different groups, clubs & activities, learn a bit about a lot of things, make a lot of friends, have a good time. I wanted him to feel safe, loved and understood at home. I wanted, at the end of the day, for him to be able to say "you did a good job mum, I had a happy childhood".
He has none of that - and I feel that I have been short changed! I don't want to be a pushy mother. I don't want to be someone whose life is ruled by their children. I don't want to make special arrangements for every thing he does. i don't want to be the mother listening in as other parents complain about my child's behaviour. i don't want to have to explain everything he does & I do for him. I don't want to have to argue my corner everywhere we go & with everyone we meet. I just want him to get on with it - and he can't.
I expected him to be popping round to friends houses after school by now. But he has few friends, and none that allow him to "pop in". few that allow visits at all - he hasn't been invited to a single birthday party in over a year - even though we invite the whole class to his. I thought he'd be an active member of half a dozen different groups, societies, clubs by now. He doesn't attend any other than one at his school. I expected that I'd be able to tell him what to do & know that it would be done (on most occasions), but I have to stand there & remind him every two minutes if I want a job completed.
And in the darkest hours, I wonder what i did wrong. I didn't want to be pregnant. I didn't want to be a mum. I didn't want a boy. and I know it's stupid, but still i wonder.
And I cry, for all the wonderful things that he will never have/understand.
And I cry, for the mother i want to be, but can't be.
And when he cuddles me, as he does, like a little baby still & I tell him that I love him more than any other boy in the world, it's true. I love him so much it hurts. But I still feel cheated. i want my beautiful, clever, loving, unusual little boy to be normal too.
I just want Mstr A to be normal. What is normal? I don't know, but I do know he's not. I can't explain to myself, let alone to others what I feel for him. he is my first born. My only son. The baby I knew I would never have. I love the girls completely, but i guess it's in a different way to how I love Mstr A - he is the child that completely changed my life, turned me into something i had never considered myself to be, or to be able to be. He is my gift to Aggie, who so wanted to be a father, but still stayed with me knowing he would never achieve it. He is my miracle baby - and the fact that that turned out to be completely untrue, does not change the emotions associated with him. the girls were additions. Nice additions. Wanted additions. But additions. Mstr A was unexpected, unlooked for and ill-timed, but he was never an addition - he was a complete U-turn in my life.
And of course i had considered, in theory, what i would want for my kids. All children do - when i have kids I will never.... When I'm a mother, I will always...... And even knowing that I wouldn't have any of my own, I formed strong opinions from working with children all my life. I never wanted my child to be great, talented, a genius, stupid, disabled, famous, infamous or notable in any way. All I wanted was for him to be normal & happy (doesn't every parent?)
I wanted to be sure his time at school would be remembered fondly - a little above average intelligence, a nice group of friends, good relationships with his teachers. I wanted him to join many different groups, clubs & activities, learn a bit about a lot of things, make a lot of friends, have a good time. I wanted him to feel safe, loved and understood at home. I wanted, at the end of the day, for him to be able to say "you did a good job mum, I had a happy childhood".
He has none of that - and I feel that I have been short changed! I don't want to be a pushy mother. I don't want to be someone whose life is ruled by their children. I don't want to make special arrangements for every thing he does. i don't want to be the mother listening in as other parents complain about my child's behaviour. i don't want to have to explain everything he does & I do for him. I don't want to have to argue my corner everywhere we go & with everyone we meet. I just want him to get on with it - and he can't.
I expected him to be popping round to friends houses after school by now. But he has few friends, and none that allow him to "pop in". few that allow visits at all - he hasn't been invited to a single birthday party in over a year - even though we invite the whole class to his. I thought he'd be an active member of half a dozen different groups, societies, clubs by now. He doesn't attend any other than one at his school. I expected that I'd be able to tell him what to do & know that it would be done (on most occasions), but I have to stand there & remind him every two minutes if I want a job completed.
And in the darkest hours, I wonder what i did wrong. I didn't want to be pregnant. I didn't want to be a mum. I didn't want a boy. and I know it's stupid, but still i wonder.
And I cry, for all the wonderful things that he will never have/understand.
And I cry, for the mother i want to be, but can't be.
And when he cuddles me, as he does, like a little baby still & I tell him that I love him more than any other boy in the world, it's true. I love him so much it hurts. But I still feel cheated. i want my beautiful, clever, loving, unusual little boy to be normal too.
posted by Juggling Mother @ 8:26 pm
3 Comments:
At Thursday, May 11, 2006 3:18:00 pm,
JR said…
Not knowing fully, why he's not normal, I would say to remember, "normal" is relative, and none of my relatives are. ;-) But seriously, I went through a stage with my son exactly like this. He has some sort of undiagnosed brain disorder that no one can figure out. A number of labels have been thrown out there, but none of them fit exactly.
He started from day one, screaming incessantly and unable to sleep properly (15-30 minutes at a time). I knew he wasn't getting the necessary REM sleep or enough of it, but no doctor could tell me why he wasn't sleeping. After the first year, the sleeping issue went away for a while.
Next, it became apparent that he couldn't "read" other people's body language. He would do things that would either hurt other people or children, or make them angry, but couldn't understand that he was the cause of it, or even see that he was bothering people. No doctor could diagnose what was happening. So I created games with pictures and my own face, and used different expressions and had him guess what mommy was feeling. If I made an angry face, he would have to guess, "mommy's mad," then he'd also have to think about what makes mommy mad, same with happy, surprised, tired, etc.
Eventually, after playing this "game" for a year or so, he became able to tell obvious emotions, but still wasn't connecting his role in evoking those emotions. So, I next started interrupting his thought patterns when he was playing with others and I saw him missing cues. If I heard a child tell him something, and he kept doing whatever it was that was bothering them, I would get his attention, I usually called his name and counted to three, repeating his name after each number until he paid attention. I would ask him what he was doing. He would tell me. I would ask him if he heard what the other child said, he never did. He was so focused on what he was doing, that he was tuning out everything around him. I had to train him to pay attention to stimuli around him.
To this day, he still has a problem with this. What he thinks is fun, carries too far. He doesn't quite get when the joke is over, when the other party is no longer laughing. So, we're still working on it. I can see it bothers him sometimes, but that he is also struggling to find a way to deal with it. He's very smart, and has a couple of close friends, he's in band and soccer, but that's about it. He's my son, and I love him dearly, but he's a work in progress.
I see some things in him that are so fantastic that I'm glad he is the way he is, and other things, that exhaust me trying to deal with them and get him to overcome the qualities that aren't appreciated in this world. The best I can do is help him to become the best, healthiest, most productive, loving human being he can be, and to find his nitch in the world. I can't even conceive anymore what "normal" might be to me. He is what he is, and I love him. This is what I have to work with, and as tiring and frustrating as it can be sometimes, and trust me, lately, it's been very frustrating, but every bit of work I put into him, comes back to me. I'm stronger, smarter, more patient, more creative, resourceful, etc. as a person, because of the training my son has given me.
I did not start as a great mother, I am becoming one because of what my child challenges me to do, to raise him. I look at this as the Universe's gift to me. Someone thinks I'm worthy of this child and that I can turn him into a masterpiece, and after all these years of struggling with him, I'm beginning to realize, I am up to the challenge, and I think you are too.
Don't give up on your son or yourself. Mothers who care and struggle and are as thoughtful about this as you are, are great mothers in the making. Look at who you were as a person before your son came into your life and who you are now. Are you as incredible as you sound on your blogs? You're well-informed, intelligent, quick witted, hard-working.
Sometimes our mirrors don't show us who we really are and it's too easy to be self-critical. The day I realized this, I began covering my dresser mirror with pictures of the people in my life. Family, friends, co-workers, shots of me at special events that friends and family had taken, because, this was how they viewed me. When I had the whole mirror covered, with just a small opening in the middle to see to put on makeup or do my hair, then I could really see who I was.
I was able to get up every morning, and when I'd notice another little line forming, another white hair, a little more weight accumulating, I looked to the pictures surrounding my face and stopped being self-critical. I was able to see, who I really was, was in the things that I did, the people I knew, and the love that grew around me from my actions. So Mrs. A., go dig up some pictures, surround your mirror, then take a good look at the woman who became this child's mother. Isn't she amazing? Isn't she doing a fantastic job? Gosh, she must be so tired so much of the time, but look how she keeps going. Who wouldn't want to be you? :-)
At Thursday, May 11, 2006 7:34:00 pm,
Juggling Mother said…
Thank you VV.
Your son does sound very similar to Mstr A in many ways, and i know all that stuff, but sometimes it just feels very unfair - for me more than for him!
At Thursday, May 11, 2006 9:58:00 pm,
JR said…
It does often seem unfair, but put it in perspective, unfair would be to be born in Africa as a woman, with a starving baby in your arms and no way to feed it. As long as you can imagine a fate worse than the one you have, it's bearable. And if your son is anything like mine, he's worth all the work you're putting into him. :-) Hope things get better soon.
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