Malia, how would I
describe you? In a mother's words you are active, there is never a dull moment
with you, or a sane one. I try to read to you, or give you love, but you seem
to not enjoy it. I feel disconnected from you, like I don't know the right
things to do or say. I feel like I see your world from the outside, I can't
seem to get in no matter how hard I try. And oh I try. Double the amount of
time is spent on you, than any of my other children, and yet here I am looking
through a locked door pleading for you to open it!
I try to imagine how your future would be but I can't see ahead. This was probably the biggest loss for me when you were diagnosed with autism, in an instant all the hopes and dreams a mother has were ripped from me, replaced with uncertainty, doubt and denial. Lots of denial, you were only 3 years old! How could my child have an illness and me as a mother not know. I was helpless and so confused. I wanted to know how to fix it, I needed a cure, that's what we do as mothers right? When children get hurt they cry to their mothers ask for a bandaid and we fix it. We make everything all better. But not you, no you don't want attention, you won't tell me when you are hurt, even when I saw your toe gouged and bleeding I asked you what happened and you told me nothing you were fine. I tried to get you cleaned up, but you refused. You didn't want me to give you any personal attention. I do it anyway but you end up mad at me, low growls of frustration as you splash water on me as I'm cleaning your toe.... I feel helpless.
The one thing that helps me through the day is your smiles. Through all your struggles you smile, you have a contagious smile, when you choose to give it you brighten up a room and all around you, we feel Jesus's love, your spirit is tender, easily hurt. You don't like confrontation or disagreements. You hide when people are at the house that you don't know, probably because you don't like change.
Change, that's a big word for you. Daddy was home yesterday morning before your bus came, and he is usually gone, it was so hard for you. You acted out with door slamming, throwing food and spilling drinks off the counter. You screamed and jumped up and down, then hit whatever was closest to you all the while screaming in a low frustrating growl. It was all daddy and I could do to keep your away from destroying things until your bus came.
After we put you on the bus I did two things. I text your teacher and gave her a heads up about your morning which isn't uncommon, they need to know what to expect because they never know what your going to pull. And second I collapsed on the couch and signed a big sigh. I had done it. I have made it through another morning. Daddy commented while I lay sprawled on the couch "now I know why your so tired at 8 in the morning."
Your school is sent from Heaven above. Nine children in the classroom, one teacher and two aids. You get one on one everyday. They adore you there, but also expect you to behave, which is a struggle for them. But you love school its predictable, its always the same and you have been in the same classroom for 2 years. Although you are in a self contained classroom you are expected to sit at a desk and listen to the teacher for 3 minute sessions. Our goal is 5 minutes. We held you back in first grade to see if you can meet some of your goals. You see you don't get grades like everyone else you have individual goals that we (your teachers, therapists, and I) make for you. Well last year you didn't meet many of those goals, so we modified them to help you. Progress is slow, you still don't understand numbers, they are a foreign language to you, but you are learning your letters. Writing is extremely difficult, your fine motor skills are poor, after 2 years of practicing your name, it's legible to your teachers and me! Other letters are difficult and will take time.
Your cute little body is the size of a 5 year old, so many people don't stare or think that you have autism at first. They excuse your energy on youth, which is fine by me. Your 8th birthday is approaching and I've struggled with knowing if we should get you baptized. First and foremost it could scare you, I'm taking you to a baptism today, daddy and I will try and talk to you about it. TRY, I guess I say try because it doesn't always work, if you are not in the mood to talk you will turn your head and pretend you didn't hear me, then sometimes when you do hear me you don't know how to get out your thoughts, so you will say something random or answer "yes...no". We tend to go around in circles more confused than when we started, inwardly pleading to understand what you are thinking or feeling, most of the time ending up feeling empty and sad. Wishing we could communicate with you someone get into your head and learn all about you. What is your favorite color? Where do you like to go? Who did you interact with at school today? Who are your friends? What games did you play in school today? How did you get hurt? But these questions go unanswered because you don't know how to share. Yes you can talk, you have words, but using them is difficult, sharing thoughts or emotions are impossible. What a frustrating world you must live in. All the adventures you have and yet not knowing how to open up and share them. I took you to counseling for over a year. I didn't see any progress and it didn't seem to make a difference. I find hope that you have a good home, people who love you and are doing their very best for you. This brings me comfort!
Oh Malia, I love you! How could I not? Look at your adorable big smile. You are a treasure, you are here in our family to teach us unconditional love, patience, kindness, selflessness, forgiveness and endurance. We are so glad you came to our home, dad and I are honored to be your parents, no matter the challenges we wouldn't trade you for the world!
Find me on Facebook
Stacee Smith or Stacee's Memory Maker
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Stacees-Memory-Maker/113443705469941
http://staceesmemorymaker.blogspot.com
I try to imagine how your future would be but I can't see ahead. This was probably the biggest loss for me when you were diagnosed with autism, in an instant all the hopes and dreams a mother has were ripped from me, replaced with uncertainty, doubt and denial. Lots of denial, you were only 3 years old! How could my child have an illness and me as a mother not know. I was helpless and so confused. I wanted to know how to fix it, I needed a cure, that's what we do as mothers right? When children get hurt they cry to their mothers ask for a bandaid and we fix it. We make everything all better. But not you, no you don't want attention, you won't tell me when you are hurt, even when I saw your toe gouged and bleeding I asked you what happened and you told me nothing you were fine. I tried to get you cleaned up, but you refused. You didn't want me to give you any personal attention. I do it anyway but you end up mad at me, low growls of frustration as you splash water on me as I'm cleaning your toe.... I feel helpless.
The one thing that helps me through the day is your smiles. Through all your struggles you smile, you have a contagious smile, when you choose to give it you brighten up a room and all around you, we feel Jesus's love, your spirit is tender, easily hurt. You don't like confrontation or disagreements. You hide when people are at the house that you don't know, probably because you don't like change.
Change, that's a big word for you. Daddy was home yesterday morning before your bus came, and he is usually gone, it was so hard for you. You acted out with door slamming, throwing food and spilling drinks off the counter. You screamed and jumped up and down, then hit whatever was closest to you all the while screaming in a low frustrating growl. It was all daddy and I could do to keep your away from destroying things until your bus came.
After we put you on the bus I did two things. I text your teacher and gave her a heads up about your morning which isn't uncommon, they need to know what to expect because they never know what your going to pull. And second I collapsed on the couch and signed a big sigh. I had done it. I have made it through another morning. Daddy commented while I lay sprawled on the couch "now I know why your so tired at 8 in the morning."
Your school is sent from Heaven above. Nine children in the classroom, one teacher and two aids. You get one on one everyday. They adore you there, but also expect you to behave, which is a struggle for them. But you love school its predictable, its always the same and you have been in the same classroom for 2 years. Although you are in a self contained classroom you are expected to sit at a desk and listen to the teacher for 3 minute sessions. Our goal is 5 minutes. We held you back in first grade to see if you can meet some of your goals. You see you don't get grades like everyone else you have individual goals that we (your teachers, therapists, and I) make for you. Well last year you didn't meet many of those goals, so we modified them to help you. Progress is slow, you still don't understand numbers, they are a foreign language to you, but you are learning your letters. Writing is extremely difficult, your fine motor skills are poor, after 2 years of practicing your name, it's legible to your teachers and me! Other letters are difficult and will take time.
Your cute little body is the size of a 5 year old, so many people don't stare or think that you have autism at first. They excuse your energy on youth, which is fine by me. Your 8th birthday is approaching and I've struggled with knowing if we should get you baptized. First and foremost it could scare you, I'm taking you to a baptism today, daddy and I will try and talk to you about it. TRY, I guess I say try because it doesn't always work, if you are not in the mood to talk you will turn your head and pretend you didn't hear me, then sometimes when you do hear me you don't know how to get out your thoughts, so you will say something random or answer "yes...no". We tend to go around in circles more confused than when we started, inwardly pleading to understand what you are thinking or feeling, most of the time ending up feeling empty and sad. Wishing we could communicate with you someone get into your head and learn all about you. What is your favorite color? Where do you like to go? Who did you interact with at school today? Who are your friends? What games did you play in school today? How did you get hurt? But these questions go unanswered because you don't know how to share. Yes you can talk, you have words, but using them is difficult, sharing thoughts or emotions are impossible. What a frustrating world you must live in. All the adventures you have and yet not knowing how to open up and share them. I took you to counseling for over a year. I didn't see any progress and it didn't seem to make a difference. I find hope that you have a good home, people who love you and are doing their very best for you. This brings me comfort!
Oh Malia, I love you! How could I not? Look at your adorable big smile. You are a treasure, you are here in our family to teach us unconditional love, patience, kindness, selflessness, forgiveness and endurance. We are so glad you came to our home, dad and I are honored to be your parents, no matter the challenges we wouldn't trade you for the world!
Find me on Facebook
Stacee Smith or Stacee's Memory Maker
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Stacees-Memory-Maker/113443705469941
http://staceesmemorymaker.blogspot.com
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