Is it fair to say you've reached an all time low when you let an 8 year old's comments make you cry?
When I met my husband's oldest child, let's call them "Child A," this child was 6 and immediately I knew there was something different about them. "A" was on the same level with the 3 year old child (Three! My Favorite Age!) socially and behaviorally.
It's interesting to observe a parent so closely, as I do with my husband, I can see how differently he loves each child in a completely unique way to that child. "Child A" is not the favorite (there are no favorites) but, they are the child who receives the most special treatment, the one my husband spends the most time fretting over, making sure "A" never feels too ostracized. It's exhausting and can be frustrating at times. "Child A" does not make ANYTHING easy.
Right now you're thinking, 'You big jerk, this is a child with special needs and you're complaining?!' Why, yes, I am. When I first met "A" I, too felt overprotective and a great, natural love for them. However over the last 2 years, I have been worn down from loving to barely tolerate. I see this child manipulate and control situations like a 3 year old on steroids. I see our whole family bend over backwards for "A" and "A" just wants even more.
When I first met "Child A" I was sure they had some form of autism and I researched about the subject and felt like I could help "A." However after months of elaborate tests and meetings with doctors and therapists the official diagnosis was that "A" does not fall on the autism spectrum and is not mentally retarded. Which means "Child A's" issues are behavioral as opposed to mental. Which made my tolerance level drop immediately.
"Child A" is perfectly sweet until they want something or want to do something and are told 'no.' Then "A" morphs into a little monster, complete with tantrums and violence. These range from ridiculous ("I want a Christmas Tree" in September) to, in my opinion, spoiled ("I want my own puppy," when at the Ex's house they have a family dog and cat and we bought this child their own bird and fish). Then, without fail, it starts: the whining which leads to tears which leads to trying to run away or kick, spit or hit.
I have had about 6 melt downs with this child (when my husband wasn't there) where I am often trying to hold down "A" and I'm the one crying. When "Child A" was 6, I could constrain them but now at age 8, "A" is too large in stature (and it doesn't help that I'm small and weak) for me to physically stop. I have been overpowered by "A" on more than one occasion. Very demeaning moments for me, like the one in the chapel during a sacrament talk where I fell over the child, feet up, dress up, on the floor (my husband was in the hall with the baby).
"Child A" has no self control and will eat until sick, but if you attempt to curtail the portions or say 'No, you can't have thirds,' there will be a fight. My husband will cave and "A" has eaten so much they have vomited later that night. I then turn into the mean one, the disciplinary who looks like they are starving a poor child. This has been my role since I started dating my husband and it's basically The Worst.
Thank goodness for therapy. I spoke with a therapist who had some basic advice, so basic I wanted to punch myself for not thinking about of it first. The first is: 80% of the time a child does not need to be disciplined right at that moment, especially if I have lost control of myself in that moment. I can let the child know they've done something wrong and it will be addressed, just not right then. The second was that I don't have to be the disciplinary. If my husband isn't there at the time of the incident, I can let the child know their father is going to handle it when he gets home. When he does get home I also need to briefly talk to him about my expectations of what should happen since I was the adult present. But, in the end, he is the biological father and I also need to respect his decision.
However, all this and my common sense went out the window last night.
Look, I know I'm the adult and a child is a child, but sometimes their comments hit at the core and break my heart, even when they don't mean to hurt me. It's not something I'm proud of. Not letting their remarks hurt is something I'm trying to correct all the time, it's on my 'To Do List' right after exercise 3 days a week and quit dairy. My achilles heel is when the kids talk about any time when 'mommy and daddy were married' or wishing that daddy was still married to mommy. I know! Not their fault and I need to be a grown up and smile lovingly and think, 'Poor dears, of course they don't mean to slight me, they just hurt.' Do I do that? Heck no!
Last night we finished with dinner and were going to drop the kids off at their mother's house. "Child A" protested that they didn't want to go and when my husband asked why, "A" responded with, "I don't want you to not be married to Mommy! I want you and Mommy to get back together and you live with us!" My husband tried to quiet "A" but "A" kept going and then the 5 year old started in on not wanting mommy and daddy to be broken up anymore. I wanted to turn around and snap, 'Then you should have told your mommy that when she was sleeping with her boyfriend!" or something along those lines. You know: Your mother did this, stop torturing your dad and disrespecting me. Anyway, I had spent an evening watching the kids, ordering their food, setting it up for them and making sure they were comfortable, especially "Child A" and I was worn out. Now our time together was ending and all "A" cared about was 'Getting the band back together' (more or less).
I was so upset by these comments, and I started to feel tears well up, so I got out of the car and told my husband to drop them off and I would take a walk. Thank goodness he let me. I needed to remove myself from the situation and calm down and reason with myself. If tests show this child doesn't have mental disabilities, then that means this child operates on a level of selfishness which is off the charts. This child is completely unaware of anyone else around them and can't comprehend why they can't get everything they want when they want, or even worse, say what they want whenever they want regardless of the audience. No matter how much I do or care for "Child A," I need to figure out how to accept that it will never be appreciated or mean that much to "A."
So I'm still trying to figure it out. Where does this child truly fall in the realm of disabilities? Surely, it has to be more than behavioral when the child eats and reasons like a 3 year old? Can I just tell all those tests to 'Buzz off, you REALLY botched this diagnosis?' Does the official diagnosis really hold so much weight with my own mental reasoning? Apparently it does, which is ironic because I grew up being told meditation would cure a headache and I still half-way believe this.
Me getting out of the car to clear my thoughts really affected my husband too. For once, I felt like he understood how hurt I feel when "Child A" is insensitive to me. When he picked me up he was visibly upset for me and felt truly sorry. In the past I think he would have been more calloused in his response to me; you know, 'Get over it! These are children!' But I think last night was a changing point for both of us, and maybe that's why we had this experience (my immature reaction and all).
I'm still in the midst of trying to work out my feelings for "Child A." I would be the world's biggest jerk if I couldn't forgive and forget this incident (well, I am the world's biggest jerk anyway for even complaining about an 8 year old with special needs). There are certain limits that I can't control: I can't control the amount of time I spend with "A" (sometimes I think more time would help), I can't control any chemical or emotional unbalance in this child's brain, and I can't control how this child feels (wanting mom and dad back together is perfectly natural, I saw 'The Parent Trap' staring Hayley Mills). Right now, prayer seems to be my biggest ray of hope. I can't change "A" and to change myself I need to be humble and pray all the time. And therapy. Lots of therapy.
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