Thursday, October 1, 2009

On a MISSON

I've been trying, and have been rather successful, at going to the gym in the mornings before the kids wake up. It jumpstarts my day in a way that keeps me feeling refreshed and one step ahead of my little monsters! I'm able to shower at the gym, in PEACE, taking my time to actually blow dry my hair and put on ALL of my makeup...things that aren't always possible with two little ones dictating my every minute. I love coming home and being able to watch a little bit of the Today Show before the kids wake up. That, to me, is a glorious morning!

Last night I set out my workout clothes, put together my makeup bag and included shampoo, conditioner, and all other necessary shower items. I put it all downstairs so that when the alarm clock went off at 5:00am, all I had to do was roll out of bed and go.

I finally plopped into bed at around 10:00pm and hoped that I would quickly fall asleep. I watched the clock hit 11:00...and then 12:00...and the last time I glanced at it it was well past 2:00. 5:00am was going to come a lot quicker than I hoped. During those hours of restlessness, my mind went back and forth between where Cale is now and where he will be years from now. I wrestled with why he hasn't reached as many gains as quickly as his therapists have predicted. Feelings of guilt overwhelmed me and it felt as though that guilt grew little fingers and they were digging inside of my brain, making it impossible for my thoughts to go anywhere else. "Am I not doing enough?" "If I spent more time working with him throughout the day maybe he would be walking by now!" "I'm supposed to be his biggest and best advocate and I feel like I am failing him!"

These thoughts nearly brought me to tears and suddenly I went from feeling like a pretty darn good parent to a lazy, slimy, poor excuse of one. I equated myself to those parents you see sitting on the porch, cigarette in one hand, beer in the other, all the while their kids are running around with nothing but a diaper on. Maybe I shouldn't be so focused on trying to keep the house clean and instead take more time to work with Cale. Would he be walking if I wasn't so obsessed with dirty floors? Would he be eating better if I wasn't always trying to stay on top of the laundry? Maybe he would be more effective in communicating if I didn't try and distract him with cartoons while I loaded the dishwasher.

These thoughts are like poisoned vines and can easily suffocate you if you aren't careful.

It is so hard to balance letting him be just a kid and also realizing that he needs to work a lot harder than most kids do, so that one day hopefully he can be "just a kid". He has to work for EVERYTHING and no type of play is simply play - everything has a purpose and a goal associated with it. His therapists are constantly pushing him to the next thing, never satisfied with the gains he's made, but always looking towards what he SHOULD and CAN be capable of. There's little room for celebration and always a reminder that he's not where he should be. "Great. He took five steps. Good. Now take ten!" I wish I could just relish and celebrate the five but there is no time for that. Keep going, keep going, keep going. If I feel this way I can only imagine what Cale must feel. That said, his therapists are doing exactly what they need to be doing. I have no doubt that Cale would be miles behind where he is now if it weren't for the help of his "entourage". Some days, though, I wish he were normal and we didn't have to deal with all of this extra stuff.

I kind of got a little off track. Back to what I decided last night during my sleeplessness. I am on a mission, for one week, (because I think that's manageable and after that we'll see how things go) to focus HARD on doing all I can to maximize Cale's success. I'm going to work with him on preschool activities, set up little obstacle courses in our living room that he has to walk through, set aside two times during the day that he has to put in a valiant effort to eat solid foods, and not stress so much about housework. For one week I think I can do this without totally losing my mind.

I know and believe with all of my heart that Cale has the potential to be and to do anything he desires. He has the strongest determination and perseverance of anyone I know and because of that I feel like he can reach the stars. As his mom, I want nothing more than to help him feel like he's doing his best, and last night I realized that even though I feel like my reserves are empty and dry, I have a little bit more zing and pizazz hidden deep that only the love for my children can bring out.

My biggest fear is that I will have regrets. "What if I would have done more?" I don't want that thought to haunt me years from now when Cale comes home from school and breaks down in tears because he was teased by his peers. I, of course, have love overflowing for him but I just pray the rest of the world will give him the chance to be loved.

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