The Reluctant Mermaid

one woman unwilling to swim in the same direction as the others



"statue imitating boy"

So- since my last post (not the cupcake one, the other one before that) We've celebrated a birthday (9!), an anniversary(10!) , gone to Celiac Camp (well, one of us did anyways),gone on vacation to the beautiful Berkshire mountains, sprained an ankle (for once it wasn't mine), learned how to dive underwater (brave girl!), caught the record winning fish (6 lb 17 inch bass at camp!), ended journeys with our young adult friends (so loved), nurtured a struggling young woman (heal K, HEAL!), lost a computer (so sad, so sad) bought a new one (HOORAY!) and had many many bumps, pizza, giggles, fights, ice cream (coconut milk for me, thanks), and are still alive to tell the tales.
And now we're back to the structure and early bed times that we were NOT ready for. Especially that guy- the one in the photo.

I think that whenever I talk about my little man I'm either like "my poor little man" or "my smart little man" or "my funny little man" because- well, he's all of that. But I can't forget that besides being sensitive, smart and funny he has a whole host of other amazing things about him. I get kind of caught up in the "how are we going to help him?, what else can we do for him?, who else can we take him to see?" that comes with having a child with needs. I forget to say "what great thing did he accomplish today? what made him brave? what made him laugh? what wonderful thing happened today that moved him?"

I can't find my balance in parenting a child who needs to find his balance. It's hard.
He's only on day 6 of school and so far he's written the saddest journal entry in his daily journal:
"I feel invisible, I feel bored, I feel sleepy and sad. But most of all I feel missed. We ran 3 laps in gym today"
His teacher cried. I cried too.
And then today he was sent to the Principals office. I won't go in to details.

He is in therapy, on medication, going to OT for services and getting loved loved LOVED in hopes of helping him find his balance.
Last night he told me he thought he was a freak and then started crying.
Oh dear... my dear dear boy...

What are we going to do?

I want to hear him shout "I AM STRONG! I AM AMAZING! I AM A MULTIFACETED JEWEL SHINING BRILLIANTLY IN THE SUN! (I told him to shout that last part last night but he looked at me like I was a lunatic.. which to his credit I am a MOTHER and when you're nine ALL mothers are lunatics... but then again it kinda DOES sound kinda crazy)

I'm just going to leave things at that. It's been a lot. I've been needing support.

My boy.. my brilliant, loving, funny, amazing boy.


Audri said...

WOW! Pretty deep stuff there. You are doing your best. It is a heck of a lot better than most of us would do esp me! Just remind him he is a kid. It is time to have fun, to learn, to fly. Anything is possible. And we are all different. We are all freaks. That is what makes us special. <3

Schriftstellar said...

Words for those of us who, for whatever reason, realized from a young age that we were unable (or unwilling) to conform:

"Here's where I was told there was something wrong with my eyes, that I see the world strangely, and here's where I said, 'Yes, I walk in beauty."

"Here is where I began to look with my own eyes and listen with my ears and sing my own song, shaky as it is." -- Rev. Victoria Safford

(If I had these stanzas at age of 9, I would have labeled the first one SCHOOL and the second one CHURCH.)

Please know that no matter how hard it ever gets, Sage has people in his life who love him exactly as he is, people who are willing to listen to his song. I, for one, am so glad to know him---my life is better for it, and my heart bigger.


~Kat~ said...

weeping... weeping Jennifer... for now I am weeping (and copying those words on creamy white paper with a fine point Uniball pen and pushpinning it to his wall)