After the Storm
My child comes into my room and asks me if I want Melatonin after reviewing the calendar to tell me what the next day was. She then went into her room and got on the computer I suggested she get on since her phone was no longer working.
Then Morning Came
I woke my child up as I usually do. I turn the light on and say “Time for school.” She jumps up, turns the light off, gets something, and goes to the bathroom (of course she slammed the door). Cool, right? I wish.
Ole girl refused to take a shower. I’m like “You need to take a shower and get ready for school.” She yelled at me that she didn’t have time to take a shower. As ole girl says from Frozen, I let it go. When you have a child with an ID (intellectual disability) or any disability, you learn when to pick your battles. Cool. You wanna stink and be known as the stinky girl at school, have at it.
THEN when I tried to tell her that her shoes were on the wrong feet, she said she didn’t have time for that either. Cool. I’ve stated in previous blogs that you have to learn a lot of patience, compromise, and how to pick your battles. No one was going to die from her not taking a shower nor walking around with shoes on the wrong feet (they were on the right feet when she got home).
When the bus came, she ran to get on it instead of getting her forehead kiss that I give her daily for protection before school. That burned a little but then she didn’t wave at me as the bus pulled off. Okay…..
I let my siblings know about the details of last night and this morning (those that don’t read my blog) and one sister brought me a phone that she wasn’t using before going into the office, gave me a hug (even though I hate hugs), and told me she was proud of me. My oldest sister offered to come over on Friday after reading my blog.
Although I truly HATE to stress my mother out, she texted me and said she had been trying to call my daughter and couldn’t reach her so I told her what went down. She said she was coming over to get her off the bus and have a talk with her.
After school, my mother came over, talked to her, helped her clean her room, and discussed what she did. When I say that my child threw her phone and my phone charger at me, I’m talking about the big charger that you take out when you have no outlets. It’s heavy and could have messed me all up. My daughter told my mother “I gently placed it on the bed.” I had to laugh. She’s no dummy. Never has been one.
Social Media Support
A lot of my friends have kids that don’t have disabilities and some do. Many related, said I did well, that I was a good mom and that I could get through it. I thank them for it because it’s SO frustrating to literally have someone totally disrespect you when you have a history of violence and don’t let most people talk to you, throw things at you, or yell at you in regular life. People that know me know how far I have come. People that have kids with disabilities or without understand, especially parents to teenagers. I am very understanding of teenagers because I was one once and I do constantly try to put myself in her shoes as far as hormones and anger. I can’t put myself in her mindset as far as not accepting or understanding that I wasn’t sabotaging her phone. There is nothing I can do about that but attempt to explain it in different ways which I did. I do not have an ID.
Support Group “Support”
I literally went to an ID group to vent. I literally said “Just venting” and then told the story of what happened (briefly) and how I just kept it together and used the word “broad”. Someone took offense to me calling my child a “broad” and then told me to handle the situation with grace. This person was the administrator of the group. I was like “Do you know all the names that people call their children and you’re literally disregarding my venting to point out ‘broad’?”
Another woman told me I needed to learn to let things go. *sigh* Then another one tried to tell me that kids with ID are not like typical teenagers and that it wasn’t about her not “listening to” me. At that point, it was time for me to take my leave. Of course I know it’s not about her not listening to me which was why I tried to show her, explain, and give her other options to rectify the situation. My child was diagnosed in 2013. We have been to a behavioral specialist where I learned a TON, I have a therapist and a psychiatrist. My therapist just happens to work for ARC and mainly with older people with disabilities so she helps me as well. Somehow they assumed I was some sort of novice.
I literally write blogs about my experiences to help those that are new to this. I tell my experiences to let people know they’re not alone. Unfortunately, for some reason, they don’t allow people to post their blogs in there. Had they known a tad bit more about me or just stuck to the script, there wouldn’t have been any miscommunication. When a person says they just want to vent, let them vent. I didn’t expect that from a support group. So yeah , I bounced up out of that group.
I Have Been Meaning to Write About My Village
I have a huge village, many of which I have never met a day in my life. They are very invested in myself and my child. They know what we have been through. They have read my blog as well as my daughter’s blog. They have sent messages, done things for my daughter, done things for me, offered uplifting words, etc. THOSE are the people I need to talk to because that “support” group I was in…. just wow.
In the End
My daughter is an angel today. After her visit from her grandmother, she took a shower and I ordered a pizza as I was drained. She thanked me, got me some soda and brought it to me and is being sweet. This is how it happens. It doesn’t happen a lot and I know it’s hormones. I just know that I’m not going back to the psych ward.
Thank you all for reading and reaching out to me. It is appreciated.