dustpanalley
A Letter To My Kid
Dear Max,
You have always demanded nothing less than the truth from your dad and I and there's going to come a day when you will discover that we lied to you about the tooth fairy being real. It might be hard for you to understand why, when normally we tell you the exact truth, we would lie about that. I hope you will forgive me for indulging you in the lovely idea of a little fairy coming to retrieve your teeth because you were a born skeptic of all things; you were born a cranky old man; so when you looked up at me and asked me if the tooth fairy was real and I saw that for one of the few times in your life you really wanted to believe in something silly and sweet and wholly childish- I would rather have died than said no.
There were other lies too, lies I told you to protect your fragile feelings because I couldn't bear to see you hurt by people who didn't understand you.
I am used to receiving criticisms from other parents and family and friends about how your dad and I have been raising you. However, this past week was the first time any other parents insinuated that I didn't like to spend time with you; that I am happy to send you away from me because I don't want to deal with you, and worst of all was hearing words that felt like an accusation that I don't love you. It has also been suggested that I am violating your right to privacy by discussing your mental disorder in public.
If people who don't know me can come here and not see that I love you, in spite of all the complaints about how challenging it is to raise you; both because of your disorder, mine, and your dad's, in spite of all the sorrows, the frustrations, and the drama...perhaps it's time to address you on my blog so that someday when you're old enough to read what I've written here, there will be an answer to those questions and those accusations.
I have never felt it seemly to brag about you publicly too much, to express my love all the time to strangers, because unlike most people- it isn't the complaints and the challenges and the disorders that feel most private to me- it's the incredible love I feel for you and your dad that I am shy of sharing. Maybe it's because I'm afraid that if I share that publicly more often people will think I've ceased to see reality and that we're living in a fairy story. Except for believing in the tooth fairy, you have never believed in things that weren't evident to you. I know that I am excessively uncomfortable when I read other parents gushing unrepentantly about their glorious offspring on their own blogs. Even though I am happy for all children whose parents feel such love for their kids, no kid deserves less that that level of love...but I always hunger to hear the real everyday stuff because I know that no matter how much every parent loves their children- parenting is a challenge full of really tough moments.
I also worry that if I profess my rushing huge love for you- I will be attracting the evil eye to you. Even though I don't really believe in the evil eye. It's very Gallic of me I suppose.
I will tell you whatever you want to know any time you want to ask- but tonight I really want to tell you that that 20 minute bicycle ride we took to the therapist's office on Friday made me so happy- it felt like the old days when you and I spent all day riding my bicycle all over town, you on a kid's seat in front of me, within arm's reach. You got to face out which is what you loved- to see the world rush by fast. We did our grocery shopping on the bicycle, and we toured the neighborhood every single day. I have missed that so much. It crushed me when we moved here and you refused to bicycle with me anymore. I have missed it so much.
On Friday we talked about all kinds of things and talking with you when you're feeling good is the best thing on earth, bar none. I know I'm not allowed to hug you or kiss you anymore unless you need it- but I had the strongest desire to hug you and suck all the sweetness from your fading childish cheeks. You are so unbelievably smart and critical and when you get excited about things you give it every scrap of passion you can generate from your too-thin body. It's a beautiful thing to see and I will never get tired of it.
I have met few children with the amount of fire and brilliance in them that you have. If I can keep you safe until you reach maturity you will outshine most of your peers.
This is the thing that has weighed heavily on me since the day you tore me apart to get into this world alive- looking at you nursing at my breast with that fierce disconcerting old man's eye on the perimeters (making sure no one was going to attempt to usurp you) I knew you were different. You were born knowing who you are and it has been such an intense frustration to you to see how everything works, should be, and to find that your body isn't mature enough to do what you wanted it to do- like when you knew how to open the door but your baby hands just wouldn't do the thing and you wailed inconsolably and it took two hours to calm you down.
I looked down at you when you were a tiny little Napoleon and I knew you were pretty spectacular but I could also tell that it was going to be damn hard to see you safely to adulthood and that you were going to take every last scrap of energy I have to do it.
We have never lied to you about how frustrated we get with the challenges of parenting but we have always been very careful not to condemn who you are- only the things that you do that frustrate us. We have been careful not to accuse you of trying to ruin our lives, because we know that you don't do those things on purpose, even when we both thought we might fall over and die because we couldn't take any more sleepless nights. I still tell you sometimes how much I want to strangle you and give you the chance to express your mutual frustration.
We have been working hard to keep your brain disorder in the light, no hiding, no pretending to be normal when we're not, we have discussed our own disorders with you and there are times when we are all sitting together out to dinner and we start joking about being a crazy family and when I hear you say you wouldn't want to be any other way I hope you will continue to feel that way when you are older and it all gets harder. I hope we can keep the levity going because there's nothing like laughter to keep us all afloat. We are a crazy special needs family who isn't ashamed of our challenges and I'm proud that you have embraced your disorder as being a part of who you are and that you are beginning to see both the difficulties it brings but, more importantly, the gifts.
If I can do anything for you, kiddo, I hope I can deliver you to adulthood feeling completely open about who you are and able to take care of yourself the way you'll need to if you're going to survive being different in this world.
School has just started and some people have implied that I'm happy because it means I don't have to deal with you. Those people can go to hell (I'm sorry- I know you disapprove of swearing- you good boy! But sometimes it's really appropriate) but you may think the same thing and I couldn't bear it if you didn't know that that's not the reason, so I would like to tell you why we are so relieved that school has started.
You are a person who needs a very strong structure every day in order to function well. You need the same things to happen each day, the same routines, to know what's expected of you and what will happen. A lot of children need that, but kids with ADD need it a lot more. You need the same wake up time each day, you need your mind occupied by stimulation and a great deal of order.
When you are in school your behavior is so much better, you are so much less anxious in general, and the time we get to spend with you is a much higher quality than it is during the summer when we can't offer you the structure and stimulation you need and you begin to show signs of agoraphobia and all of your issues become much more acute. The school work isn't easy for you, in spite of your intelligence, which is why we have got a plan worked out with the school to help you do well in spite of your challenges. All of us, your dad, me, and you do so much better with the structure of the school year. That is why we are so relieved when school starts and our days take on a soothing rhythm that none of us are capable of creating on our own.
We love spending time with you- which I know you know. You and your dad building a video game together is fantastic and it's been so wonderful to see you coming up with a thousand sophisticated ideas a minute.
Life for you, me, and dad may be more challenging than it is for people without our disorders, but I think it might also have more shine. The three of us are a little world of crazy, creative, cranky, funny, intelligent, and gifted people. I may want to strangle you every other day, but I promise you, kiddo, that there has never been a moment in your life when I haven't striven to be the best possible mom for you and tried to protect you from the people who would unwittingly hurt you, and seriously, I would never actually strangle you (I haven't ever even spanked you or slapped you even though you have torn my patience to shreds). You are my darling darling Golden Dragon warrior son and I couldn't be more proud of who you are and more excited to see who you will become.
Your loving quirky crazy mother.
A Letter To My Kid
Dear Max,
You have always demanded nothing less than the truth from your dad and I and there's going to come a day when you will discover that we lied to you about the tooth fairy being real. It might be hard for you to understand why, when normally we tell you the exact truth, we would lie about that. I hope you will forgive me for indulging you in the lovely idea of a little fairy coming to retrieve your teeth because you were a born skeptic of all things; you were born a cranky old man; so when you looked up at me and asked me if the tooth fairy was real and I saw that for one of the few times in your life you really wanted to believe in something silly and sweet and wholly childish- I would rather have died than said no.
There were other lies too, lies I told you to protect your fragile feelings because I couldn't bear to see you hurt by people who didn't understand you.
I am used to receiving criticisms from other parents and family and friends about how your dad and I have been raising you. However, this past week was the first time any other parents insinuated that I didn't like to spend time with you; that I am happy to send you away from me because I don't want to deal with you, and worst of all was hearing words that felt like an accusation that I don't love you. It has also been suggested that I am violating your right to privacy by discussing your mental disorder in public.
If people who don't know me can come here and not see that I love you, in spite of all the complaints about how challenging it is to raise you; both because of your disorder, mine, and your dad's, in spite of all the sorrows, the frustrations, and the drama...perhaps it's time to address you on my blog so that someday when you're old enough to read what I've written here, there will be an answer to those questions and those accusations.
I have never felt it seemly to brag about you publicly too much, to express my love all the time to strangers, because unlike most people- it isn't the complaints and the challenges and the disorders that feel most private to me- it's the incredible love I feel for you and your dad that I am shy of sharing. Maybe it's because I'm afraid that if I share that publicly more often people will think I've ceased to see reality and that we're living in a fairy story. Except for believing in the tooth fairy, you have never believed in things that weren't evident to you. I know that I am excessively uncomfortable when I read other parents gushing unrepentantly about their glorious offspring on their own blogs. Even though I am happy for all children whose parents feel such love for their kids, no kid deserves less that that level of love...but I always hunger to hear the real everyday stuff because I know that no matter how much every parent loves their children- parenting is a challenge full of really tough moments.
I also worry that if I profess my rushing huge love for you- I will be attracting the evil eye to you. Even though I don't really believe in the evil eye. It's very Gallic of me I suppose.
I will tell you whatever you want to know any time you want to ask- but tonight I really want to tell you that that 20 minute bicycle ride we took to the therapist's office on Friday made me so happy- it felt like the old days when you and I spent all day riding my bicycle all over town, you on a kid's seat in front of me, within arm's reach. You got to face out which is what you loved- to see the world rush by fast. We did our grocery shopping on the bicycle, and we toured the neighborhood every single day. I have missed that so much. It crushed me when we moved here and you refused to bicycle with me anymore. I have missed it so much.
On Friday we talked about all kinds of things and talking with you when you're feeling good is the best thing on earth, bar none. I know I'm not allowed to hug you or kiss you anymore unless you need it- but I had the strongest desire to hug you and suck all the sweetness from your fading childish cheeks. You are so unbelievably smart and critical and when you get excited about things you give it every scrap of passion you can generate from your too-thin body. It's a beautiful thing to see and I will never get tired of it.
I have met few children with the amount of fire and brilliance in them that you have. If I can keep you safe until you reach maturity you will outshine most of your peers.
This is the thing that has weighed heavily on me since the day you tore me apart to get into this world alive- looking at you nursing at my breast with that fierce disconcerting old man's eye on the perimeters (making sure no one was going to attempt to usurp you) I knew you were different. You were born knowing who you are and it has been such an intense frustration to you to see how everything works, should be, and to find that your body isn't mature enough to do what you wanted it to do- like when you knew how to open the door but your baby hands just wouldn't do the thing and you wailed inconsolably and it took two hours to calm you down.
I looked down at you when you were a tiny little Napoleon and I knew you were pretty spectacular but I could also tell that it was going to be damn hard to see you safely to adulthood and that you were going to take every last scrap of energy I have to do it.
We have never lied to you about how frustrated we get with the challenges of parenting but we have always been very careful not to condemn who you are- only the things that you do that frustrate us. We have been careful not to accuse you of trying to ruin our lives, because we know that you don't do those things on purpose, even when we both thought we might fall over and die because we couldn't take any more sleepless nights. I still tell you sometimes how much I want to strangle you and give you the chance to express your mutual frustration.
We have been working hard to keep your brain disorder in the light, no hiding, no pretending to be normal when we're not, we have discussed our own disorders with you and there are times when we are all sitting together out to dinner and we start joking about being a crazy family and when I hear you say you wouldn't want to be any other way I hope you will continue to feel that way when you are older and it all gets harder. I hope we can keep the levity going because there's nothing like laughter to keep us all afloat. We are a crazy special needs family who isn't ashamed of our challenges and I'm proud that you have embraced your disorder as being a part of who you are and that you are beginning to see both the difficulties it brings but, more importantly, the gifts.
If I can do anything for you, kiddo, I hope I can deliver you to adulthood feeling completely open about who you are and able to take care of yourself the way you'll need to if you're going to survive being different in this world.
School has just started and some people have implied that I'm happy because it means I don't have to deal with you. Those people can go to hell (I'm sorry- I know you disapprove of swearing- you good boy! But sometimes it's really appropriate) but you may think the same thing and I couldn't bear it if you didn't know that that's not the reason, so I would like to tell you why we are so relieved that school has started.
You are a person who needs a very strong structure every day in order to function well. You need the same things to happen each day, the same routines, to know what's expected of you and what will happen. A lot of children need that, but kids with ADD need it a lot more. You need the same wake up time each day, you need your mind occupied by stimulation and a great deal of order.
When you are in school your behavior is so much better, you are so much less anxious in general, and the time we get to spend with you is a much higher quality than it is during the summer when we can't offer you the structure and stimulation you need and you begin to show signs of agoraphobia and all of your issues become much more acute. The school work isn't easy for you, in spite of your intelligence, which is why we have got a plan worked out with the school to help you do well in spite of your challenges. All of us, your dad, me, and you do so much better with the structure of the school year. That is why we are so relieved when school starts and our days take on a soothing rhythm that none of us are capable of creating on our own.
We love spending time with you- which I know you know. You and your dad building a video game together is fantastic and it's been so wonderful to see you coming up with a thousand sophisticated ideas a minute.
Life for you, me, and dad may be more challenging than it is for people without our disorders, but I think it might also have more shine. The three of us are a little world of crazy, creative, cranky, funny, intelligent, and gifted people. I may want to strangle you every other day, but I promise you, kiddo, that there has never been a moment in your life when I haven't striven to be the best possible mom for you and tried to protect you from the people who would unwittingly hurt you, and seriously, I would never actually strangle you (I haven't ever even spanked you or slapped you even though you have torn my patience to shreds). You are my darling darling Golden Dragon warrior son and I couldn't be more proud of who you are and more excited to see who you will become.
Your loving quirky crazy mother.