Great Expectations

As a first time parent, I pretty much always feel like I’m doing it wrong. Scarring my child for life. Raising a kid that makes everyone roll their eyes and say, MY precious angel would never do that. Add the fact that Gbear has serious communication issues and discipline becomes disastrous.
I don’t know the best way to parent. I just try to teach my child to respect others, respect himself, and have basic manners.  There is a constant internal debate in my brain about when I set my expectations too high. What if he’s not misbehaving on purpose, but what if he didn’t truly comprehend what I’m saying? At what age are certain expectations normal? And amidst all this I also try to remember that every child develops in their own time.  I’ve had this fear of asking too much of my child and in harboring this fear I have totally set myself up for failure.
Instead of being compassionate and understanding, I’m being naïve. I have allowed him to get away with so much because I wasn’t sure what level of cooperation is normal to expect from a child his age. I’m learning though. You have to set the expectations higher for your children so that they can strive to reach it. If you keep lowering the bar, then it teaches a child that they can get away with being less and that is not something I want for my child.
I wonder often if Gbear was a second child if I would have encountered the same questions with expectations. Would I know what to expect of him or would I hide in the shadow of excusing his behavior because of his diagnosis? All I know is that I will keep trying to be a good parent and not let his special needs overshadow the values I wish him to learn.

Waving the White Flag

While I am quite sure that many of my struggles are the exact same struggles faced by parents of children without special needs, facing days with a child who struggles to communicate to the world around him can often magnify the rough patches.

This journey of motherhood can be so rewarding and yet there are days that the sadness sets in. The guilt. The frustration. Sadness that this life is not what you expected. Guilt that maybe you caused this or that whatever you are doing as a parent is just making this journey more difficult. And frustration that you can’t just blink your eyes and make it all better.

Today was one of those days where the perfect storm of emotion reached a fever pitch and there was nothing left to do but cry and wave the white flag of surrender.

So many days I try to maintain a positive attitude. Allowing myself to sink into my emotions doesn’t do anybody any good, but there are days like today, where at some point you wonder, when is it enough?
When will it get easier? Do other mothers feel like this?  How can I make this better and will my child ever be able to express himself in a manner that does not drive him to the breaking point. It frustrates me and hurts my soul when he lashes out at me.  I try to remind myself that it is the frustration and not an indication of his feelings for me, but when I never hear an “I love you” and my energetic kidlet has no time for hugs and kisses, and the frustrated little man starts punching me because I don’t understand what he wants, well that’s when my mama heart breaks and some days I can’t think of anything but giving up.

So on those days, for awhile, I give up. I cry. I wallow.  I give in to all. I do my best to make it through the day and just make it to bed time. Tomorrow, tomorrow I’ll fight the good fight, but tonight, I’ll stop and just surrender.