I'll never forget the feeling of being told that I would not have children. "Highly unlikely," was the exact wording.
If you've learned anything about me from reading this blog, you should know that was tantamount to a challenge. And clearly, "Highly unlikely" is not equal to impossible, hence the small people, Mino and Nelly.
Because I thought I wouldn't have them, my children are that much more precious to me. Sharing their stories with the world was both a no brainer and something I did cautiously all at once.
Despite my internet presence, I am private about SOME things. I'll tell you everything BUT what's really important to me.
Those things I guard with my life.
And as I said in my first post, it took a while to discuss what was happening with Mino.
I could have made that all I would reveal on the subject but I think this is important to discuss. For other moms and families like ours who hit this brick wall.
Who have a precious child they love who is suddenly seemingly sucking the life and energy from their surroundings with their behavior.
Who may have been unshaken in prior years in the belief that their child would "grow out of it."
Or live by the mantra of "boys will be boys."
I'm writing this for those moms; those families.
We've done several weeks of play therapy now. Nothing conclusive has come of that. I've been told that he's incredibly intuitive, cognitively he's a sponge, he doesn't miss a beat and he's amazingly astute at how to play on people's emotions. These are all things I already knew, but Mino does enjoy going. It's routine, and something that is just for him, and I think he likes that. With so much trouble and negative feedback at school, I think that's a welcome break.
His initial visit to a clinical psychologist ended in a nuclear meltdown similar to Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
So much so that a CPS worker showed up at my door because he drove my mother to scream and yell because he flat out refused to get in the car and they were "worried for his safety."
Yes. The C, the P and the S. Every mother's nightmare. And not even because of something I did.
My son, with the two parent household, the gainfully employed parents, his own room and bathroom, toys, games, and clothes galore...
My son, who I drive 30 miles away to a charter school because the one next to our house wasn't good enough, who has a custom birthday party every year, who has never known hunger or danger, cold or a real sense of "want" in his life...
My son, who was only there with his grandmother because he's exhausted both mine and my husband's paid time off with multiple trips to the school, suspensions, parent teacher conferences... the list goes on.
Imagine the way that my world tilt on its axis when I had someone standing at my door, inquiring about the safety of my son.
My son who was no surprise. I made him on purpose. I've given him everything. I've starved for him, though he may never know it, and I would never tell him.
And I've been rolling the thoughts around my head - the memories.
Turning over every minute of his tiny life that I can recall and asking if and when and where did I go wrong?
Did I go wrong?
Obviously, CPS found nothing to continue their case, his meltdown was confirmed by the psychologist and the file was promptly closed, but now here I am on red alert.
My child can literally throw a tantrum to end all tantrums and if he's yelled at, I can be the one who get's in trouble? Hell, I wasn't even the one who yelled at him in this scenario.
You begin to feel like your hands are tied.
I have a school on one hand who's constantly calling me and saying in no uncertain terms "do something about this."
So we spend money and time, setting up evaluations, therapy, grasping at straws to find out what will help our child, and he erupts in volcanic fashion...
What do you do, when there's nothing you can do? When even getting frustrated and yelling is out of the question.
Quitting is most certainly out of the question. And I am no fool, so I don't divulge this information to spread my business far and wide, or even to cry for help. Instead I want to encourage anyone in my position.
This didn't discourage me.
It fueled the fire of determination in me.
One big take away from all of this is that Mino can never get the idea that he runs the show. That he can pull this emotional rip cord and get his way. I won't teach him that at home or in life.
What I will do is continue to love my child, as I always have, and work to teach him the boundaries that it is becoming more and more evident he doesn't have.
It's a big job. My most important job. But nothing is scaring me off. We can't give up now.
My prayers remain constant and fervent that we find what works for him. That this brilliant boy of ours will find a way to understand that he has to be a member of the world, and not the other way around.
It's a hard climb to realizing something isn't 100% with your child. We still don't know if he's willful or what the whole source of the issue is, but we're determined. As with all things I know that this too shall pass and that nothing in life happens without reason.
Again this has no end. But I hope I help someone. I hope someone can find encouragement in knowing they aren't the only one. That no matter how loving and doting and giving you are to your children, there is no perfect parent. We all stumble, and fall and fail. We all throw our hands up at times and wish there was a "pause" button. It comes with the job.
But I'm pretty tough if I do say so. I'm not giving up on Mino. I can take a few bumps in the road.
Especially for my son.