There are so many wonderful things about Luke that I wouldn't change for the world. He always gives me a kiss, even when he doesn't want to. He will fuss and whine, but he will still pucker up. The look on his face when he jumps on a trampoline or when you tell him it's time for a bath is priceless. He loves music and sings to us all day long. He belly laughs sometimes out of nowhere and we never really figure out why he's laughing. He loves to snuggle and will sometimes reach over and grab your hand just to hold it. He's all boy and his happiness is contagious.
But, the most difficult thing about Luke are his meltdowns. They can happen without warning and you may or may not know why. And once every 158 fits or so, I have a meltdown right along with him. Today must have been number 158.
I have made the decision to send him to school some this summer even though I'm home. I could write another complete blog entry on why I made that decision and the guilt that has gone along with it, but basically, it provides so much more stimulation and social interaction than we can at home. While he was at school today and Aly was at church for VBS, I had some actual time to myself! I got to run errands.... alone!! It was bliss, I tell you. I decided to run into the local Dollar Tree, which is secretly my most favorite store. You know, the one where everything actually costs a dollar?! My mom, who shares my love for the true Dollar Tree, used to joke, "I hope you brought your dollars!" But I digress...
I spent a lot of "dollars" on empty tubs, toys, kitchen items, etc. to make some fantastic Pinterest worthy (almost) sensory tubs for Luke. I was feeling like a super accomplished mom.
I picked Aly up from church, took her to the food court and for some mother/daughter shopping/bonding time and then ended our afternoon with a surprise trip to our favorite snowcone place. The weather was perfect and in that moment, I was the best mom ever. It was the perfect day.
We picked Luke up from school and when we got there, he was still asleep. Sweet little sleeping angel. We had to wake him up, which he was not happy about, but I got him in the car without a fight. Continue perfect day. I'm an awesome mom...
When we got home he just wanted to lay on the couch, but it was the first pretty day we'd had all week and, dang it, I wanted him to try out his beautiful new sensory water tub that I just knew would earn me super-mom status. I drug him outside and with a heart full of pride, placed the water tub in front of him and anxiously awaited his reaction.
He loved it! Aly got the entire driveway to herself to ride her bike, so she was thrilled he was sitting in one spot. Life was good. Did I mention I am so awesome?
Then he got two drops of water on his pants. Two. Drops.
The screaming that came out of his mouth at this point was like nothing you can imagine. "What will the neighbors think?!" It runs through my mind almost everytime we are outside. I'm sure they are used to it, but I secretly fear they think I'm abusing him by the way he screams. I ran and got a towel and tried all the usual things I could to calm him down. It just got worse. And worse. And worse.
We ran inside and he started throwing himself down on the floor so violently he carpet-burned his forehead and I just knew he was going to break a bone. I picked him up and put him on the couch so he couldn't hurt himself any more, so he decided to try to hurt me instead. The thrashing and the screaming got the better of me and I started YELLING at him, "Stop! I can't do this anymore! STOP!!" And so forth.
I usually pride myself on being patient with him. But like I said, it was the 158th time. I knew yelling was only making it worse. Aly was in shock, "Mom, are you ok?" All I could do was sit and hold him so he wouldn't hurt himself. I was breathing hard and fighting back tears and all those good momma moments I'd had that day were gone. I was the worst. I'd yelled. I'd lost my temper.
Just a few minutes later, we both calmed down. My restraining turned to cuddling. We both took turns saying, "It's ok." He took my hand to wipe his tears. Within about 15 minutes, we were both ready to go back outside. I ditched the water box and brought out a box full of lentils. All was right with the world again. He even still gave me a kiss.
Ok, now for the point of that whole long, drawn out story. One slip up doesn't have to ruin a "perfect" day. One bad momma moment doesn't make me a bad momma, just like a sensory box doesn't make me a good one. When I slip up and lose my temper, which happens more than I care to admit, I can suck it up, hug my babies, say I'm sorry and get back on track. That goes for everything in life. I'm letting go of perfectionism, one meltdown, one failed creative project, one missed appointment, one dirty unmopped floor at a time. My kids don't need to see a mom who is perfect. They need to see a mom who messes up and says she's sorry and means it.
Why do we care so much about this good mom/lousy mom label? It's a daily struggle to decide which one we will be each day. Let's just STOP! We can't do it anymore!
More importantly, let's quit deciding what label all the other moms are today. When we see a child and/or a mom in public (or in their driveway perhaps) who are behaving less than perfectly, we might be witnessing one lousy moment in an otherwise "perfect" day. Let's give each other (and ourselves) some grace, shall we? When our kids mess up, do we love them less? Do we think less of them? Does God think less of us? Of course not! It's all about grace.
I had a great conversation about grace with my friend Bonnie yesterday. She recommended this book. I've just started, but it's already speaking to me!
Maybe if you can relate to putting constant pressure on yourself to perform in every area of your life and to please everyone in the process, you can read it too. Remember earlier in this post when I felt like I needed to explain to you why Luke is in school this summer even though I'm not working? Yeah, that was me worrying that you would think I was a lousy mom. Even though you weren't thinking that at all. Remember when I thought to myself, "What will the neighbors think?" Well, the neighbors weren't home. And if they were, they wouldn't have thought anything about it because - surprise! They have their OWN lives to worry about! That's what this book is about and I obviously need to read it until the end. And use a highlighter.
One quote that Bonnie mentioned and had underlined in the book was "The cure is the process." Let's stop taking the joy out of our days with worry, judgement, and disappointment over our many failures, ok? It's a process. Let's have fun. Let's show grace to ourselves, our friends, our husbands, and even to complete strangers.
I don't always feel worthy to be the mom of a boy with special needs, but God chose me. He chose ME. He knows all of my imperfections. He knows my heart. And He doesn't make mistakes. And after all, aren't all kids' needs "special"? Your kids have their own "special" needs and YOU were chosen to meet them. It won't be perfect because we live in a very imperfect world, but God chose you because you are worthy. He will meet our own personal "special" needs and will give us the strength to thrive through this tough, challenging, beautiful process called motherhood.
"I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me trustworthy, appointing me to his service."
1 Timothy 1:12
1 Timothy 1:12
