Ruined Birthdays and Changed Perspectives, You Know, the Usual

When it comes down to it, my oldest child, Child A, ruined my birthday.  But don't worry, I know how ridiculous this sounds as I'm an adult in my late 30s and Child A is a 9 year old with special needs.

The thing with my birthday was, I kept trying to make the day NOT about my birthday.  We had family in town and they wanted me to have a special day.  It was incredibly thoughtful, however, since we had the 4 kids and my husband had to work, I wanted it to be as normal and not special as possible.  We tried to all go out and have a nice family nature walk (without my husband) and it ended with Child A refusing to leave the car and eventually becoming so mad they threw rocks at me.  Granted, they only hit my feet, but these weren't pebbles - they were rocks.  At another point in the day, Child A was so unhappy that they had to do everything our large group was doing and ran as fast as they could into a busy street.  Needless to say, ALL activities were cut short and we all came home in grumpy moods.  I tried to insist that my family leave me with the kids or at least Child A and go out and do something fun, but the mood had changed and they were now afraid to leave me alone with Child A.  Ah, motherhood, or more specifically, step-motherhood.

My husband left work a little early when he heard the panic and anger in my voice and then when he came home, in my opinion, proceeded to baby and coddle Child A.  Well, you can guess how that made me feel.  I was suddenly furious with my husband.  This wasn't new behavior.  I see something really messed up and when I ask him to discipline it turns into hugs and giggling.  I think this was the event that truly ruined my day, so maybe I need to say my husband AND our oldest ruined my day.  OK, I'm mostly joking - I know that deep down No One can ruin my day, except for me.  Only I can control how I feel and react and this day taught me that I had a LONG way to go with controlling my emotions, especially as the 'adult in this scenario.'

When I saw my husband barely discipline Child A and the two of them proceed to joke, I interrupted this maddening, sweet moment to talk to my husband alone.  Yes, I lost it.  I was so angry, that yet again, Child A had manipulated my husband and no lesson was learned.  It didn't help that as we argued, Child A stood outside the door yelling that they were hungry and needed food right that second.  My mom offered Child A some veggies and Child A refused saying they wanted pizza.  I could barely think straight I was so incensed.  The evening ended with my husband taking the kids back to their mother's house and us barely speaking.

Now, let me tell the good news.

For the last year we have been trying to diagnosis and figure out Child A.  Nothing fit or made sense.  My husband wasn't too concerned, because he had so much love for this child he was sure that if we just let Child A feel love, it would all work out.  Turns out, he wasn't too off on this one.  The child's mother had a genetic test done and showed that Child A has a syndrome closely related to Down Syndrome.  This syndrome usually manifests in horrible health problems and low IQs.  Our child wasn't diagnosed because Child A is actually a very advanced, mild case which is really rare.

We found this out a few days after my birthday and, suddenly my perspective shifted completely.  Instead of becoming so irate and frustrated with Child A, I felt gratitude that their case was so light and that this child was as advanced as they were.  There were no huge health issues and Child A can pretty much function in public school (with half special ed courses).  When I read about other children with the same syndrome, my heart broke and I counted all of us to be so blessed that we lucked out with Child A.  I NEVER thought I'd say that about this kid.

Things are completely different now for me because of this changed perspective.  I have more patience and am more protective of Child A.  I still discipline and occasionally (read: a lot of the time) lose my temper, but I make sure Child A is treated fairly considering their mental disability.  This child has turned into a walking miracle for me.  I am in awe of their progress and how they function in life.  The Doctor's said it was unheard of for children with this syndrome to go 9 years without a diagnosis, because usually, these children spend their whole lives in the hospital.

Isn't it crazy how a slight change in perspective (in our case, a few DNA strands testing a certain way) can change everything?  I am so grateful and when I think back on my silly birthday, I think about how well Child A acted, all things considered.  I don't have the biological love that my husband has for this child, but this diagnosis helps me feel more of the love my husband had all along.  It was such an answer to a prayer, as I  have been praying to have more compassion and love for this child and through this scientific diagnosis, I do.  I am just so grateful that Heavenly Father is so patient with me.  He knew all along what ailed this child and thank goodness he gave this child a patient, loving father here on earth to be the advocate and protector.  Man, I can be such a jerk!  Hopefully I'll always remember this when my calm, sweet husband does something that I deem 'too sweet' or 'too soft.'  But, knowing me, it might not happen right away.

Guess What? Heavenly Father Didn't Forget Me (duh, me!)

This last week has been so different from the last few months and I really think Elder Bednar's Talk quick started it.  My friend who suggested I listen to the Europe Sister's meeting was the friend I mentioned who seemed to go through harder trials than I have and when I need support her words and stories always comfort me.  I've said this to her and I'm sure I've written this, but in a weird way I'm glad she went through those trials.  No wait, that's not what I meant!  I am so grateful that when I have something I'm struggling with I was blessed with a friend who can show empathy and by sharing her experiences, my pain is lifted and I feel more peace.  I should send her flowers.

I feel so much closer to my Father in Heaven and I think writing about wanting to have a desire to be close to Him and telling those close to me I am struggling with this helped a ton.  Being honest that I didn't feel Him as of late and more than anything wanting those feeling back led to an outpouring of empathy, advice and council.  Thank goodness I admitted to it, because in all honesty, I felt really guilty and kind of horrible (as usual) about it.  I'm a return missionary and have never been inactive and yet I felt like I was just going through the motions of what I was supposed to do when it came to church stuff.  My testimony was intact and the thought of skipping church was never a question but I just didn't feel that spiritual connection I used to feel.  This connection was what used to allow me to feel joy and comfort even when I was sad.  It was like an armor that I had on constantly and usually didn't need but when I did need it, it kicked in and I felt immediate protection.

Struggling with infertility, finances, jobs, step-kids and ex-spouses had made me feel like prayers and fasting don't really work.  (I know, it's a wonder I haven't been struck down yet.)  I'm willing to do them and I haven't stopped praying but I just felt like they were useless.  (Again, I can't believe my computer hasn't exploded for writing these things.)  Thank goodness Heavenly Father is so patient with me and not only has He not struck me down but he's actually proved me wrong.  On Friday I did a session in the temple and before the session I wrote down some names for the prayer roll.  When I left the temple I had a text from one of those people out of the blue letting me know that things in life were looking good for them.  It made me want to cry.  Who cares if I'm not seeing results from my prayers, Heavenly Father blessing those I love seemed way more important and made me feel better than if He had answered ALL of my prayers.

But, He is aware of me and my little family.  We are in the process of renovating a house and at the moment 90% of our belongings are in storage. When we got the unit we were assigned to the second floor, even though there were slots open on the first floor.  I grumbled because it was more work waiting for the hot, stuffy elevator every time we loaded and unloaded.  Last week I received an email from our storage unit saying because of harsh rains the first floor had flooded and the first floor occupants had to move to the second floor.  I went to check out our unit just in case and the parking lot was full of moving vans and really angry people.  I saw as they carried out ruined paintings and furniture and a lot of their belongings were thrown away.  Suddenly I had a strong feeling that Heavenly Father was aware of me and He spared of us this because He was very involved in my life.  This little thing that I had complained about was now a huge blessing.

Also, last week, I had another friend come into town to just hang out and help me with everyday boring life.  She helped renovate the house we are working on, took care of the kids and made me laugh.  She herself is going through some crazy, hard trials and putting her life on hold to help me made me realize what a baby I was being and feel enormous gratitude for her and Heavenly Father.  I felt joy and things like reading the kids a story or taking them to a museum turned into something fun that we all enjoyed.  

And for the first time in a LONG time I started to look forward to seeing the kids.  Knowing I'd see them in 30 minutes made me smile like it used to in the old days.  Of course I still wasn't the perfect little step mom.  I lost it when our 5 year old, who has a problem with compulsive lying and bullying the youngest child, made the youngest cry and lied about it.  I try not to use the "H" word but I found myself yelling, 'I hate it when you lie!  Stop lying to my face!'  But, baby steps, right?  I'm excited to see them all today, even the liar.  The thing with this child is that they are #3 of 4 and completely forgotten (most of the time).  I think the lies and bullying comes from a desperation for attention.  I should be more patient knowing this, but I can only handle so much before I lose it.  I need more General Authority talks . . .  and ha! it's General Conference this weekend -- perfect timing.  Wait, was that another prayer answered?

Step Parenting a Child with Behavioral Issues / Mental Disabilities or How to be Just Horrible

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.

Struggling with Infertility + Step-Parenting = Not Fun

I have watched many people close to me struggle with infertility and they always seemed so positive or they acted like it wasn't a big deal, just one of those things that happens.  For 18 months we have been trying to get pregnant and I am now in awe of those people.  It is heart breaking and frustrating and every month you go through the same hope, even as you feel PMS creep up, and then sadness.  When people ask me if I want my own children, since I have four already, I always politely smile and say, 'Yes.'  However, when family or friends ask, I have less dignity and tell them 'Yes! and it's not happening and this is really hard!'

When my husband and I first got married, I thought, 'Well, if I can't have my own children I don't want to pursue intense fertility treatments, I'll just accept that it's not meant to be.'  My husband even seemed to like this idea.  I thought that my feelings for my step-children would meet any motherly desire.  And you know what, they might in the end because I don't know what's going to happen in the future.  But right now, today, after 18 failed attempts, I am struggling.  

I was almost 35 when we got married and I knew it was possible my age could be an issue but I also thought in the back of my head, 'But I'm sure I can get pregnant.'   When it didn't happen the range of emotions started with disappointment, melancholy and then worst of all, feeling like a failure.  Irrational as it may be, I felt like a failure for not producing a child, especially since my husband tried 4 times and had 4 kids with his Ex (the Ex even had a child with her boyfriend, so this lady apparently can't Not get pregnant).  Sobbing on the bed became a monthly ritual that I did in secret.  

Loving and sweet as my husband is, he just didn't understand what I was going through.  He and I were is completely different worlds.  He was a father to 4 young children who were VERY close in age, so his parental needs were met (and then maybe exceeded) at an early age and he had 8 years of intense parenting under his belt.  He had experienced pregnancy and child birth as a parent and raising a child from infancy on and he was still exhausted from it.  The thought of starting ALL over again wasn't as appealing and I don't blame him.  After a weekend with the kids I'm so tired I want to cry and I can't believe people do this and survive without having breaks.  But I still want this for myself (I guess I hate sleep and date nights).  

As months went by and still no baby, my emotions turned to frustration, impatience and resentment.  I felt forgotten by Heavenly Father and slowly I started to take it out on the children.  Not in an abusive way, Obviously, but I snapped at them more, I became stricter but not more loving and I had no patience.  As soon as they arrived at our home I would find something to be angry about (literally spilt milk, and Yes! I know what they say about spilt milk! ugh!) and I felt justified in my snappy mood.  My husband confronted me about a month ago, asking what was wrong because I was treating the children so differently.  I knew I was but I had no explanation.

In the past when I had problems with needing more love for the kids I would just pray for it and this always worked.  I was now on my knees pleading with Heavenly Father every night to give me more love and nothing was happening.  In my heart I wanted to be my old, patient self, I wanted to change, but I felt like my prayers were being ignored as I grew even MORE impatient.  

This wasn't fair to my husband or the children.  I have never felt more out of control of my emotions and I needed help.  So, recently I met with a therapist (more than once) and had some deep, personal revelations.  The most important being this: my snappy temperament wasn't because the kids were naughty, it was deeper than that, I was angry at God for not blessing me with a child and taking this out on the kids.  As soon as we had this breakthrough I felt awful because it was spot on.  I really AM a horrible person!  Yes, the kids are hyper and naughty at times but they needed someone who didn't yell or lose it over small things.  I had become the wicked stepmother and they still loved me!  Don't worry, I want to kick myself everyday.    

What to do now?

Well, yesterday was better.  Recognizing that I have become grouchier and why has helped a ton.  When I felt myself getting impatient, I could step back and think, is this really something bad or am I taking out my frustrations on this child?  Or as soon as my voice started to get louder I could stop and think, 'could I whisper this and get the same result?'  (the answer was always Yes).  I see that this could be something I have to continually work on, maybe forever, but it makes me happier and I know it makes my husband and the kids happier.  

As far as infertility, I don't know what will happen.  There are so many women who aren't able to have children and their lives go on, in fact I bet a lot of them have figured out how to be truly happy.  I have no right to demand or expect a biological child from my Heavenly Father.  Everyone has trials and some are heart breaking and some never go away, I just need to remember it's how I handle them that matters to God.  But do you know what also helps? Hearing about some Hollywood actress who had a baby in her mid-40s.  

3 Year Old Kids are Hard / 3 Year Old Step-Kids are a Nightmare

When I met my Husband his kids were 6, 5, 3 and 0 (ok, 10 months, but 0 sounds better).  The 3-year-old was affectionate and pretty cute and I thought, 'this child is going to be so easy to love!'  Wrong.

When I was a mid-single, I once offered to babysit as a prize for a Relief Society auction.  The sister who won had 4 kids and the youngest was 3 and when I was babysitting I was convinced the 3-year-old was possessed by Satan.  He was not only belligerent but violent.  His older siblings just ignored him and were really helpful to me and this kid just seemed like the odd-man out.  I know now from my awesome 2 years of experience that he was probably seeking attention and felt confused and left out - but even with this as an excuse - he was a complete terror/jerk/ idiot.  The next day I was talking to a friend who had a ton of kids to ask her if it was possible that this child was demon spawn.  No, she said, something happens when they turn 3 and they leave you and go into this really difficult stage but they'll come back to you after a year.  She was so zen about it.  I tucked this away for the next time someone asked me to babysit and if a 3-year-old was involved, I'd decline.

Now here I was with a soon-to-be step child who was in the middle of being 3 and this child was a complete psycho.  I couldn't stand this child.  I'd think of the scriptures when the Savior said in Matthew (18:6) "But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that we were drowned int he depth of the sea."  I am NOT trying to make light of the Savior's words but I kept thinking, does this apply to me?  This child is nightmare and all I want to do is spank this child (NOTE: I have Never physically disciplined the children and I never will.)  Children in the scriptures were supposed to be our examples and they were going to inherit the Celestial Kingdom, not me.  But, did the Savior really know how awful kids could be?   Again, I'm not making a joke of His words, I genuinely struggled with this - like with tears and prayers.

I had seen my nieces and nephews and friends' kids have mini tantrums which, I get it, are normal.  But this child was manipulative and would hurt their older and younger siblings (as much as a puny 3 year-old could, I guess).  I wanted justice and progress and I was getting neither.  My husband would baby the child when they were being extra naughty and the child's behavior seemed to get worse.  I felt like I was in Crazy Town.  Did no one see what this little jerk was doing and saying?

Luckily, when the child hit 4 I noticed a change in behavior that had me thanking Heavenly Father in my prayers (literally).  I have since noticed though, this child is naughtier than the others and my husband thinks this is still cute, but I have my eye on them.

When the child is yours (adopted or birthed) you have a history with them, you've seen them go from helpless baby to curious toddler and then turn into a little devil child, so it's easier to remember the adorable times and remind yourself this is just a phase (hopefully).  When you're thrown into it - you want to pull your hair out and just be mean back to the kid.

I survived by removing myself from the situation (I used to leave the room all the time, especially at bedtime or nap time).  And reminding myself of my friend's words, that this was a phase and they'll come back to you when they hit 4.  And now we have another child hitting 3 and I can already see this child leave us and slowly creep into their own version of Crazy Town.  It's not easy but it is SLIGHTLY better, especially since this child was a really good 1- and 2-year-old.  And I pray a lot for very specific help; 'help me to remember this is just a phase and to be patient and love this child because this is really hard.'