April 19

I have my moments. 

If I were to ever get a tattoo, perhaps that is what it would say. I have moments of inspired, patient, loving brilliance. I have moments of losing my #*%! more than ever and basically having a tantrum in front of the children. 

Often, after I write about hard times or inspirations, then things change. I was really hoping that after writing about the challenges of last week that this week would have been easier. In some ways it was and in some ways it wasn't. My goal for this coming week is to not yell and to do whatever I need to do to minimize the chances of my yelling. This means that I need to prioritize sleep, hydration, not being hungry, and cleaning the house more frequently through the day so I don't spend most of the day stepping over messes and then flip out at the end of the day about the mess. It means taking note of all the things I do rather than all things things I don't do. It means asking for help before I need it.

The thing that I marvel at is how much the girls and I clearly still love each other even when we have so many moments of not being loving with each other. We always are back together with snuggles in pretty short order. I still get chin-presses from Sarah, and Amy still loves to sleep snuggled next to me in the morning, cupping my face in her hands. The girls still get love, hugs, kisses, snuggles, good food, book reading, and playing games with me. 

I have had a couple good, hard cries this week and they have helped clear some emotional cobwebs. Carl has been wonderful, just sitting with me. He doesn't try to fix me or the feelings. He doesn't run away. He is just with me. It is what I aspire to do more often with the girls. I do it often, but not always. Then again, they have melt downs a few times a day where I only have full-on melt downs a few times a year. What never ceases to amaze me is that after a good cry, I can then easily do all of the tasks that had previously felt overwhelmingly impossible. Perhaps if I didn't resist my own tears so often, if I allowed a light rain more often, then I wouldn't need a thunderstorm to empty my clouds.

We have had moments! 

Sarah did an amazing job as the calendar helper at school. Sonia and I were imagining dumping tubs of gatorade on each other in celebration.

One morning when Sarah was resisting getting dressed (as usual), I carried her upstairs (against her will, so that part could use some work) and told her I wasn't going to force her to get dressed but that I just wanted to talk. She calmed immediately. I explained that when she is focused then she can get dressed in one minute and do her hair and teeth in another minute each so that in just three minutes she can be back to playing. She proceeded to get dressed and ready in about three minutes. I was stunned. This breakthrough did not, however, carry forth to other mornings. 

Some evenings it is hard to get the girls ready for bed. We decided to change the rules a bit. If they don't want to go to bed then they don't have to, but they do have to get ready when we say it is time to get ready. Then, if they want to continue playing on their own, they can. So far, they always choose to go to bed. (Last night we all went to bed at 8pm).

Sarah's problem solving skills when she wants something continue to expand. I often keep my phone on top of the refrigerator so it is out of reach. Sarah realized that she can just pull a chair over and climb on the chair to reach my phone. Yesterday, when Carl was outside with the girls, Sarah went in the house and came back with Carl's car keys, intent on opening the car so she could play in it (which is not allowed). Awesome/Oh no!

My best moment of the week was this: Sarah and I were in the SR room and she wanted to pretend we were in a sleeping booth on a train. We asked a pretend conductor for a pillow and blankets and then tucked ourselves in. I was concerned that we would fall asleep so I put my hand on her middle and moved her gently while saying "chugga chugga..." Then I moved her with a big movement while saying "screech!" and looking around with exaggerated concern and bewilderment. I said someone had pulled the emergency brake. Sarah was laughing so hard that she could barely speak, even though she wanted to repeat what I had said because she liked it so much. The moments of pure laughing delight are the best ever. We continued to replay that scenario with small variations for the rest of our time together. The meta level of this moment that makes it even better is that while we were playing we were working on interactive attention span, eye contact, copying facial movements, imaginative play, asking questions, and speech clarity.

While observing G. I realized that there are moments when I am judging Sarah as bad without even realizing I am doing it. G. reinforced that Sarah wasn't to do a certain thing but then kindly explained that she probably had been so focused that she hadn't realized what she was doing. Oh. In that moment I realized how she wasn't being bad. Oh. Can this awareness expand to everything the girls do that I don't like? To everything I do that I don't like? Sometimes I can hear a message many times in many ways before it actually gets into my awareness in a new way. My mom has been kindly explaining this for years, about kids (people) not being bad. Carl lives it. Option teaches it. And yet, I wasn't fully seeing it. Here's hoping I can keep this clarity in other situations.

We now have snail pants galore! L. made a beautiful pair of pants and a pair of shorts. This is totally awesome. The desperation around snail pants is gone now and, perhaps of course, Sarah now sometimes chooses other pants or shorts!

I appreciate the listening, love, and support from all of you. I appreciate that you don't want me to be hard on myself. I will probably still be hard on myself sometimes, and I will still write about it because I want to remember this whole journey and I want to share it honestly and be where I am. So, here I am. Thank you for continuing to witness my journey.

I have my moments.