2 Years Have Passed

It's been 2 years since I last wrote a blog entry. I'm writing so that I have a place on the web for me to remember things. I used to keep journals, and I stopped pretty much once my son was born. I also stopped because he was, and still is a force of nature. He's pure dude. He's pure energy.

So, I haven't even checked my blog, but last I wrote was in 2017 for my dad's birthday. I'm glad I checked in back then.

Since 2017, my son started Kindergarten, and is now going into 2nd grade. I have a high schooler who is in a Marching band, and she's gonna be in a jazz band, and does indoor percussion competitions. To me that is kind of weird. But I'm extremely proud of her.

The other kid is a teenager (almost) and is getting straight A's. I'm fine with that. My girls are amazing. They are incredibly smart, they listen to me most of the time, and they do all the laundry and dishes now so life is good. They don't make their beds though. I guess this is a problem.

But going back to what has consumed me entirely since 2011 is my son. He's not like other kids. I've learned way too much about behavioral issues, neurological problems, brain development, sensory issues, diet, being on the spectrum, psychology, toxicity, and so many other things. He's defiant. He's strong willed. He's hard to manage. He doesn't make going to restaurants easy. He doesn't make life easy. He makes every simple task difficult. He says no when you ask him to do something that is not a preferred task. He makes the bad choice most of the time. He doesn't stop doing something he shouldn't be doing when you ask him to. He doesn't do what you think would be best. He does what he wants.

In school, they have a common core math program and he crosses out every single last box on every single page where it tells you to explain your answer. He does this because "Math is for numbers and escritura is for escritura time, not matemáticas".

When he was only 3 years old, he would say "my choice is my choice". Yesterday when we were having a bit of an argument he told his dad ,"You don't control me. You are not the boss of me". Well, his dad replied he kind of was the boss of him, and that he made him. My kid replied. "But you can't CONTROL me, because my body is my body, and my own mind is my mind and I can do what I want with my body and say what I want. So you don't control me." I guess he's right. We don't really control him, and for the most part we have tried but we can't.

But I may be ranting a bit too much about his oppositional behavior. I can go on about the other side. That he is compassionate, funny, kind, makes friends every place we go, every day. He plays drums (a little), he's learning piano, he loves swimming every day, he never wears shoes, he has so many friends, he like legos now, swims in the ocean year round, he is reading better, and loves telling jokes. However, the things that consume us about him are pretty much hard to deal with.

I am absolutely grateful every moment that this kid can talk. He can walk. He can think. He knows what feels right to him. He is not afraid to say anything. Even the f word. He is an amazing singer. But the things about him that are difficult really consume us. They consume every breath I take. When I wake up, I wake up in a panic. I'm worried about him, and I think I have PTSD about him being in the hospital twice this year. I hate it there and I never want to take him back. I had to advocate for him each minute we were in there so that they wouldn't do anything unnecessary to him or give him meds he didn't need.

All this is totally scattered, and maybe not worth mentioning, but I felt the need to write so I can remember one day how much this kid consumed us.

He got kicked out of summer camp on the 2nd day this year. I won't go into details about what he did, but I couldn't get a refund and the work I had planned on doing the entire summer had to get pushed on the back burner. I've been with him every day this summer. During the first part of summer, he had his share of TV, tantrums, play dates, outings etc.

We had just been to UCLA where he was diagnosed with ADHD and ODD. They were pretty pushy about meds to help modify his behavior. I'm sure that meds would keep him in line to some degree, but I said I wanted to exhaust all other possibilities before ever going that route.

Soon after that I ended up taking him to an Aryuvedic doctor. He ended up coming to the conclusion that a lot of his hot headedness and temperament comes from his inability to get a lot of what was backed up in his system out... and although we all hear about the gut/brain connections, I wasn't sure how that related to my own kid. We've been trying to follow new dietary suggestions, he's taking some herbs, he's gotten to be regular, and that definitely has helped. But he's still a hot head.

And when I'm here thinking about him being a hot head, I can only think back to myself. I was a pretty shitty little kid. I remember crying about all sorts of things for no reason. I remember fighting with my neighbor for 2 days because I wasn't ok with him liking Neil Diamond so much. I remember having my own desk in the corner in 1st and 2nd grade cuz I couldn't stop pestering and talking to everyone around me. I remember not letting my parents eat at Ribs USA. I remember kicking a tow truck driver that had to rescue me and my mom on the freeway. I remember biting my dentist so hard that he needed stitches. As I remember these things, I think... "well, I was pretty awful sometimes but I didn't turn out that bad".

So a part of me thinks... my kid is immature, and a little crazy, but maybe he WILL come around when he's about 9 like many people say. Maybe he'll come around in 3rd grade, the way I did. But another part of me thinks, "what if he doesn't, and he's just has a criminal mind and ends up in jail". It may sound crazy or rude of me to say, but I worked in Jail Schools. I worked with kids who were considered criminals. And you know what? They were and are a lot like my kid. Kids who don't want anyone telling them what to do. Kids who don't really know how to cool their "lava". Kids who make the bad choice over and over. But the difference between those kids and my son is that I'm there for him every day to help him with anger management. With personal space. With how he resolves his problems. With cooling his lava. I'm always there. But what if I can't always be there?

There's so much I can go on about. Like his adventure with a rotavirus in January. With appendicitis in April. With his failed attempts at getting his teeth cleaned at the dentist. Like jumping off a horse cuz he didn't like horseback riding on a steep hill. Like saying he hated his f'ing parents at the thrift store. Or how he ran away from home twice, and told random strangers I wasn't his mother. Or how he told other random people he got kicked out of the house cuz his dad was so mean to him and he needed a new family. I mean, I can go on about so many things. So many occasions.

I can also go on about how today at the 99 cent store I told him before we walked in that he could not get anything. He told me he hated me and I was the worst mom, but still followed me in the store. And in the store, I ended up getting some bananas, some batteries, and bandaids. And when he asked me for cheetos, I said no and he said some things along with the F word. But I got in line, and he quietly followed me, and we got to the car, and it never went next level. I mean, he was pissed, but it could have been worse. He was happy once he started reading in the car and happy after his lunch. And he confessed to me his deepest, darkest secret. (that I will not keep). His deepest darkest secret is that whenever he says some crappy thing to me, or anyone else, he doesn't mean it. He said he says it just to try to make someone else feel as bad as he feels because he is feeling bad. I get it though. And I don't take anything he says personally. Because at the end of each day, we pray, and he says, "mama, daba". Daba means "big hug". So I give him a Daba, and he says "most times my angel can't really have power over my devil because my devil is a little more powerful". But I remind him, "No. Your angel is more powerful because today you were only crappy about 10% of the day. You were difficult a handful of times. And you were good the rest of the day. You always reset and started over and for most of the day, you were good, so your angel won".

I'll write again soon, and likely write about how I've been living our life since I banned screens and devices. Well... he's been able to watch a little on the weekends (at the end end of the day), but taking away screen time is definitely harder for the parent I think, but it's been successful. It hasn't made things easier by any means, but it's for the best. I'll go into it later and maybe give a how to for parents who want to take on that challenge. But for now I just wanted to put into writing that life has been hard. It's hard in our own way. I'm blessed that's for sure, because my blessings by far outnumber my complaints for sure. I have a home, a bed, enough money to live, amazing kids, a great husband, a beautiful and supportive family, a good job, and so many friends. And although I see the good, and I'm as optimistic as I can be, I think it's ok to say out loud that some things ARE hard for me, and I'm trying my best to make it better every day. I just want my kids to be cool, and I don't want them to say the F word in public too much. I know it's just a word, but come on. Give me a break. LOL.  I'll be back soon.