I'm Meeeelltiiing!

Yep...the very observant words of the Wicked Witch on The Wizard of Oz signaled her collapse under the powers of H2O.  I'm more than a little curious why my five year old son couldn't be that concise during his most recent "melt-down" at Waldameer (local amusement park) today.  "I'm hot," followed by thrashing and pulling on the stroller which caused me to feel a few beads of sweat of my own were his words of choice during one stressful wait for a ride.  Then there was the "I waaant to plaaaay the dart game," which would have been my cue to signal the flying monkeys to carry him off as he kicked at my leg and tugged at my shirt.  But, truly I was so busy avoiding any possible eye contact with the overcrowded population circling the Steel Dragon I probably would have mixed up my primate language and ended up with King Kong...and I was way to cranky to be hoisted up the Empire State building anyway...

  Today was our parish picnic at the park and though I should have found comfort in the throngs of people being "cut of the same cloth" I found the thought of being "in the spotlight" to be a little overwhelming as my son challenged my every directive.  So, I guess this is me taking to the "electronic pen" to explain my son---and myself.  We have recently received the second diagnosis of Autism disorder within the ranks of our seven children.  There may be more coming.  We've been hot on the trail of what has been causing so much discord within our home.  Let me be clear that both of our children who hold this diagnosis are VERY high functioning so that to the unaware eye they would appear as a bratty, mean spirited child.  The reality I'm discovering is that autistic children often do not have the tools to communicate what is bothering them so they react in unexpected ways to get the message across they are not happy, comfortable, feeling secure, etc.  Though I'm ecstatic that my kids appear "normal" there is little about them to signal the WHY behind the tantrums, panic, screams, or fits of rage.  Shoot, I gave birth to and lived with my boys for years without understanding this, being completely baffled by their responses- so I get it.  I am just a little at a loss on how I should behave when I'm feeling a bit judged or my children are misunderstood.  I refuse to label them---though a huge white sign on the back just might have people nodding their heads and saying "Ahaa- that explains it."  There is still much I need to learn to survive these years while my family and I educate ourselves... but in the meantime- please- if you see a parent interacting with/or ignoring a full-blown melt-down think twice before dousing with water (unless ruby slippers are involved) but perhaps do offer that nod of "I understand."  You just might be the sanity that brings Peace and saves the day...feel free to carry red cape with you!

Terrible Twos (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday. :) My freshly-turned 3-year-old is going through a delayed version of the terrible twos.  It’s possible that these frequent meltdowns can be partially attributed to the fact that we took her pacifier away at the beginning of the summer so she no longer has her instant calming aid to take the edge off.  Or it might just be her feisty personality which isn’t so very different from her Mommy’s and Daddy’s.  Whatever the case, it is exhausting me!  She gets upset about everything:  if her shorts are crooked or I select the wrong show on Netflix or I put the wrong floaty on her at the pool and so on and so on.  One never knows what will tip her over the edge.  As I slumped on the couch during her most recent tirade, I was struck by the fact that God must get so tired of MY constant tantrums. I get so easily annoyed, angry, frustrated or stressed out.  I was watching the movie Crash for the second time (thought-provoking movie…well done) and found myself relating to Sandra Bullock’s character when she was admitting to her friend that she is always angry at someone or something. 

My husband laughs at me when I get angry because I mutter under my breath as I am chucking laundry into the washing machine or slamming silverware into the dishwasher.  Just like my 3-year- old, one never knows what will set me off:  ungrateful kids, a messy room, a classmate who makes fun of my child, a coach who doesn’t tap into my child’s potential, a family member with different standards of disciplining, a neighbor who wants us to  move our basketball hoop, a teacher who gives too much homework, a priest who does not make me feel welcome, a TV station that shows inappropriate ads, a government that prohibits religious freedom, a husband who doesn’t unroll his shirt sleeves when he throws them in the hamper.  Oh, there are so very many things that have the potential to irritate me.  So I slosh my dishes and slam my washer and whine to no one in particular.  In fact, I try not to complain to others.  I know better than to spread the negative poison so I convince myself that my irritations are justified, and I am only verbalizing them to my husband or a friend/family member here and there.  No big deal.  Ohhhhh, but it is.  I am allowing these negative thoughts to take root. 

I remember hearing an analogy once about impure thoughts: they are like birds and we should just let them fly over our heads.  It’s only if we allow the bird to build a nest in our hair that the thoughts become a problem.  The same can be said for negativity.  When I get angry or annoyed and allow myself to stay that way, feeling quite justified, it’s like I am putting up a sign on my forehead that says “hey, bird, build your nest here!”  I need to start heeding the advice I so freely give my 3-year-old (and 9 yr. old and 12 yr. old):  “If you can’t say something nice, (or positive or edifying) don’t say anything at all.”  That’s one of my Dad’s gems.  Next time I have a tantrum, I should put myself in timeout.  No, that sounds too relaxing.  Maybe I should just lose a privilege.  Or keep it really basic and simply say a prayer…right then and there…for the irritating person or frustrating situation.  Give it to God and then move on.  Let the bird fly right over my head.  I would feel much lighter without all this negativity weighing me down…. And I would certainly smell better too.