Welcome to Holland. Er, I mean Iceland. Wait - did I say Iceland? No, we are actually headed to Hong Kong. You thought we were in Hong Kong? Sorry - this is Germany. And so on and so forth. You get the point. If you've never read it, there is a beautiful piece about having a special needs child called Welcome to Holland. You can check it out here: http://www.our-kids.org/archives/Holland.html
I think it is controversial in some crowds (what isn't?) but it resonates with me. Except that as time goes on, I feel like we are traveling to new, completely foreign places more and more often - sometimes multiple times in one day. Just when I think I've sort of got something figured out or at least have a handle on it, B totally changes it up. Right now, this is the most difficult part of parenting our not-so-little dude. I am a type A planner by nature and the unpredictability just absolutely kills me. For example, sometimes a trip to Target is fun and B. happily strolls about like his good natured self. So I gain confidence and set out to repeat our fun excursion. And the next time, it may start out exactly the same but then all of a sudden, out of nowhere he has a nuclear meltdown. Now those of you with toddlers are probably shaking your heads because this is exactly the way they behave all the time. However, there are a few key advantages we no longer have:
1) A large majority of people can relate and empathize with the craziness of toddler behavior
2) You are much bigger than said toddler and can pick him or her up and remove them from the situation and
3) The toddler will grow out of this behavior. As sucky as it may be, you know that this too shall pass.
That third one is a doozy. It seems that our issues will not pass - they just morph into new, more difficult issues. The older he gets, the harder it is. I have always been a bit hesitant to reach out to support groups and families with kids on the spectrum. Each kid is so different and I honestly didn't really want to know what might lie ahead. I think this has actually been a really good decision. Ignorance can be bliss and there's nothing we could have done to prepare for it or change it in any way. I'm glad I didn't know where we were headed. Because let me tell you, it is getting SO.MUCH.HARDER. I actually miss the younger days. Even with all the therapy and chaos and zero time to myself, it was easier in a lot of ways. I felt more of a connection to B. and I felt like I knew how to parent him (for the most part). I used to always say that despite his diagnosis and challenges, "at least he's happy". And that kid is still with us - the one whose smile and laugh lights up a room... the happiest kid in the entire place. But there's this other side now that is explosive and angry and miserable in his own skin. When he is that kid, I don't know how to relate to him. I don't know how to help him. I can feel the stares and the judgment when we're in public and I can't do anything about it. I can't even describe how difficult it is to see him like that and to be completely helpless to make it any better. So I take a deep breath and wait for it to pass - wait to arrive in the next destination. And hope against hope that it's a place where he's happy and okay and that he knows on some level that I would do absolutely anything to fix whatever it is that is making him feel this way.
