Passing Judgment

Parenting is perhaps the hardest job I will ever do.  The job that pays me the least.  The job with the greatest rewards.  It is a job that requires me to be on my guard 24 hours a day, 7 days a week (there are no lunch breaks, vacation days, sick days, weekends ~ hell sometimes I can't even go to the bathroom).  The job people feel comfortable judging me on.  I see the glares, stares and avoided eyes. 

I am the parent of ONE child.  I admire people who can manage the day to day stressors of 2 or 3 or 4 or more children.  I have only one.  I am sure it is all about patterns and getting into the swing of things but maybe not.  I admire those who have a child with special needs even more. 

Four years ago my beautiful little boy came into this world.  And we were blessed to adopt him and have had him minutes from birth.  He was quirky but the best of babies; quiet, happy, easy to please.  He grew into the cutest most brilliant little guy with immeasurable strength.  He displayed behaviors none of his peers displayed.  And I dealt quietly (some days with lots of tears) with some of the oddest things.  I've laughed, cried, worried and accepted that my little boy is unique!  God gave his birth mom courage to give him to us and me courage and love to handle him.  He saw we were both equipped to love this little boy in our own way. 

Today I struggle.  I am once again 'mommy broke it'.  Broken and exhausted.  What the judging stares don't see is a mom who was awake the last few nights for long hours by a 4 year old who is not able to sleep.  He wakes several times and is wide awake and engaged in his thoughts, life and not worried at all about the time.  We have tried it all clocks, music, white noise, locks (now you judge me).  We have let him cry, sleep with us, stay awake.  Just like the flip of a light switch, he is on or off, and when he wakes he is ON!  When he was a baby I could feed, change, soothe and not engage my brain in his behavior.  Now I engage and I too am wide awake and it takes me some time to settle back in for sleep.  You don't see how tired I am.  You see that I have not combed my hair, that my clothes are mismatched, that I forgot my shoes, that my son has a dirty face and probably dirty clothes and no shoes.  You never see the tear in my eye as I try my best to be on time for another therapy appointment.  You never hear the exhaustion in my voice when I gently answer all the questions my son has (over and over). 

The judging ones didn't see that today my son refused breakfast.  The rule in our house is you can have a choice between two options.  I am not going to make special meals.  Today he absolutely did not want what we had, said he was not hungry.  So I let him be.  By the time we went out, he was hungry.  Of course I had snacks and he ate them and they were healthy.  But there was plenty of drama before he decided he was ready for the food.  You only saw my messy child with a baggie of quickly thrown together snacks.  You never saw me put my forehead on the counter and pray I could find something healthy for his little body. 

You didn't see that while I was cleaning up a mess he made with markers while he sat next to me at the table, he was outside pooping on the ground.  He said it was because I was not playing with him and he wanted to be a dog.  He pooped outside and got it on his hands, clothes and wall.  So while you are judging me understand that I had to also clean up poop from the ground, from the wall, off the toilet, off the child.  And I had to talk about why we don't do this AGAIN (not the first time it has happened).  I had to deal out some consequences.  And I had to pray that he understands the importance of my words.  You didn't know when you stared that my carefully timed day unraveled because cleaning up poop takes concentrated energy even when I have done it for 4 years. 

You judge me yet don't know that my son runs at top speed all day long.  He doesn't stop to rest, he goes faster than most children.  He doesn't feel hungry or tired or thirsty.  The heat or cold won't slow him down.  When you see me trying to do the shopping and I appear frazzled with the child who jumps on and off the shopping cart, runs away from me up the aisle, and touches everything, it is because I am.  I have been attempting to maintain good behavior from the moment we entered the store.  I have chased, swatted, put my son in the cart and caught him when he was getting out.  I have a list but I can't find it and I try to remember what I need while engaging my son in meaningful, appropriate shopping tasks. I have given him things to eat and play with so that I can keep him still and just get what I need.  He really tries to behave and I really am aware of what we seem like ~ wild, disorganized and unruly.  A bad parent of a bad child. We are neither of these things. 

Your stares know nothing of the strength of my son.  I am not able to wear cute shoes and gave up on cute outfits because I have to keep up with his speed and strength.  I rarely have time to put on make-up.  I run to stay ahead of him.  I think fast and move faster.  I can still hold him, carry him and catch him.  And I have to do this because he doesn't stop to think he just acts.  He has no sense of pain and does not understand what can happen if he runs in the street or pushes someone over.  My job is to keep him safe and to keep your family safe.  He has no idea he is so strong and his movements disrupt the balance of those less speedy.  Your judging eyes see the mom catching her son while he is trying to hide, get away or open something. 

He hears things I don't hear.  He understands things he can taste or smell.  Your stares are ignored when he stops to smell something, lick something or picks up something you find gross.  I know he is searching for something solid and the world for him is a sensory sensation.  You may not know that he trusts those senses and he finds comfort and safety in doing those things.   

I am doing my best.  Your judgment of me just adds to my sense of defeat.  My little boy is perfect just the way he is.  I am beautiful and natural and a mom.  A proud mom.  A tired, exhausted mom.  We both are learning.  Your judgment crowds our chances of playing with your child or belonging to your mom circle.  I may not be able to stop and chat, answer my phone or attend to things because my son requires more attention.  We are learning.   

When you see me, instead of judging, perhaps extend a smile or nod.  Rejoice in the knowledge that maybe your family is calmer.  Be thankful that God gave me what I can handle.  Don't judge us.... we are as perfect as we are meant to be.