So after the stress of last week, we had a full weekend outdoors where I tried hard to forget about anything involving the word “evaluation”. But it kept coming back at me.
Saturday we spent the day at a picnic with several good friends, many of whom we haven’t seen in months. One couple has a son who had many of the same issues that Cordy does now (he’s two years older), and it was nice to sit and discuss solutions they have come across to help him. At one point my friend remarked that it was like we had twins born two years apart. But her son has made incredible progress in the past two years, giving me a lot of hope that Cordy will, too.
Cordy had a wonderful time running in the large open backyard. She spent most of the time on her own, but she did join the two (older) boys in a quick ball game. Actually, she chased them, shouting “Ball! Cordy kick the ball!” and occasionally they’d stop and let her kick the ball.
Running with the big boys
Future soccer star – just look at that form!
She did have several meltdowns during the day, and she refused to eat much of the food. I think she did have fun, though. We just had to keep her away from the road and from the guys throwing knives in the backyard. By the time we left, she was completely coated in a fine layer of dirt. (She doesn’t mind the feel of dirt. Touching grass will set her off, but not dirt.)
Today, we joined Aaron’s parents to go to Inniswood Gardens to see the Big Bugs exhibit. The park was packed full of families with kids. Cordy did pretty well at first – when we came to the first bug sculpture, we let her out of the stroller to get closer. All was fine until she tripped and fell into the grass. She had a minor tantrum over that, but recovered quickly. However, that was enough to make every stop in the park a struggle. If we stopped, she wanted to run. If we wanted to go, she wanted to stay in one place. Over and over again during our time there, she would throw herself to the ground and cry and scream.
But today I paid a lot more attention to everyone around me. And I noticed that none of the other kids acted like Cordy. No other parents were dealing with the tantrum when telling their child not to touch the sculpture. No one else had to peel their child off the pavement just because they said, “Stop! Don’t run too far ahead of us.”
I also noticed other people staring at Cordy at the park. It was clear some people thought we had no idea how to control our child. I could almost hear their thoughts – What’s wrong with that child? Those parents don’t know how to discipline that kid!
Cordy’s a giant, which makes it even worse. She looks like an older three year old or maybe a four year old (she’s now wearing 4T), so people expect her to behave like one.
All I wanted to see was one hissy fit from someone else’s child. One tantrum, one episode of breath-holding or foot stomping or screaming or hitting or collapsing on the ground. But there were none. Today must have been Perfect Child Day at Inniswood, and we clearly missed the memo and brought our hair-trigger meltdown child mistakenly. I was painfully aware of how different she is while mixing with the other families in the park.
Part of me feels sad for her, because I don’t like to see her unhappy so often. She is a happy child – she can just go from happy to inconsolable faster than a method actor on speed. And I don’t want people to think of her as this screaming monster, which I worry is the image strangers take away after being near her. She is so much more than her tantrums.
And part of me, I’m ashamed to say, feels resentful. Resentful that I have such a difficult child while everyone else got the easy ones. Resentful that we can’t go anywhere and really have a great day, because there will always be at least one major meltdown to cloud the day. There will always be one point when Aaron will turn to me and ask, “Why did we think coming out here was a good idea?”
But then I feel guilty: Cordy doesn’t try to be difficult on purpose. She’s just a little kid! You’re an awful mother to resent your toddler for something she can’t control! She probably wants to fit in with other kids, but can’t. Bitterness to guilt to pity, then back to bitterness – it’s an awful cycle of emotions I’m trapped in. I don’t want to be here anymore.
Last week was a step forward. I’m feeling more at peace with the evaluation process and I’m eagerly awaiting the next step so we can get to work on helping Cordy cope with her issues and get past the frustration. Because instead of a face streaked with tears and scowling, this is the face I want to see more of:
I’m sorry you’re having such a tough time right now. I know what it’s like to just wish your kid was normal, didn’t need extra stuff, extra help, just extra. I hope the therapy helps,that you get results and tools to use to help Cordy.
Hi. I’ve been lurking for a week or so ever since I found a link to your site from Amalah.
Just wanted to let you know I’ve been in your shoes. My son is now 8 and sounds so much like Cordy. (Aspergers became his official diagnosis). With lots of intervention he’s doing just fine. Some days he really sticks out and some days his issues are those other parents have with their kids.
I’m also a sped teacher, so if you ever need to vent, advise on finding what the function of her meltdowns are, etc – let me know.
Try to remember, behavior is a form of communication. The trick is to find out what she is truly trying to communicate while she is lying on the ground screaming. Things can get so overwhelming so fast and she is young, she doesn’t have the coping mechanisms to say “Hey Mom, I …..”. This, however, can be achieved 🙂
Robin
I wish we had been there! Bub would’ve been melting down too, and we could’ve cried on each other’s shoulders.
All kidding aside, the length of the trigger really varies depending on the day – I’ve taken Bub out and been one of those parents looking smug about her perfect child. And then, other days, I’ve been the opposite. I do find, though, that with each subsequent meltdown, the fuse gets shorter and shorter (mine AND his!).
It’s a learning process for everyone, handling these emotions. These days, Bub tends to announce, “I’m crying!” through his tears. He always sounds slightly startled by it.
Kristen – You’re right, it is the age as well. I can’t forget that part of the equation. But I’ve never seen kids who act this way every single time they go out. (You’ll see what I mean at BlogHer, I’m sure.)
It’s my hope that at the very least we’ll learn exercises to use with her, because I’m out of ideas on how to avoid setting her off.
Aside from the sensory issues you discussed regarding your evaluation, there’s definitely something to be said about the age.
Quinlan was peaches and cream until about 2.5 and then all of a sudden all hell broke loose. I know that Cordy is definitely different than Q and I’m certainly not saying ignore the fine words of the doctor, but I’m saying that there’s definitely a lot of the age mixed in as well.
I think once you get some tactics as well as some sensory exercises, I bet you’ll see an amazing difference.
Oh, wait – it looks like I just HAD that morning! Yay us – we just managed to get ourselves kicked out of Vacation Bible School. Sounds like the start of an illustrious career, doesn’t it?
Oh, she’s so lovely! More smiles for you and happier days. Last summer LP meltdown at the slightest of any changes. I will be honest and say I did not have the fortitude to leave my house/yard without my husband. It was the summer of being home with a newborn and learning to cope. Courage to you!
And what a beautiful face it is!
I hope you don’t take away from that experience the idea that all toddlers Cordy’s age are perfect and don’t have meltdowns everyday! Take heart that even the most “normal” (in a textbook sense anyway) toddlers have melt downs pretty regularly. Come to my house and you can see!
As a matter of fact my daughter just went fro-m 0-tantrum in about 5 seconds because I took the covers off of the play dough and she wanted to do it herself! The other day it was because I took the elastic out of her hair and she wanted to do it…. she is also at the “I refuse to eat anything you put in front of me” stage. Just tske heart that some of the things she is doing are perfectly normal. And I am sure she will get the tools she needs to be that happy smiling face more often. I’m glad you found someone to relate to!
Keep your chin up!
They kicked you out of BIBLE school??! How very Christian of them.
Please know you aren’t alone. Believe me, I know what it is to feel resentment like you described. And know that other parents are looking at you wondering why you can’t “control” your child. Or, struggling with what is age appropriate behavior and what is unique to your child.
Good for you for starting the early intervention process. You are doing the best think you can for your daughter and your family. Feel free to vent to me any time.
I have a friend whose child looks much older than he is, but acts his age. The looks from strangers when he’s acting up are unbelievable. I’m so sorry you are dealing with this. I suspect resentment is something I would feel, too.
Not that this will make you feel any better, but my 21 month old son has been having MAJOR behavior issues. So, it sucks having two difficult to handle kids.
You’re going through a lot, but I think it’s so great that you can write down these feelings in an effort to process them. I hope the online world to which you belong provides you with lots of support. Judging from the comments, it seems like it does.
See you in Chicago!
I’ve certainly been in your shoes!
It is tough – because it is a cyclic thing: the child’s differences make the parents socially isolated, which makes the child socially isolated, which decreases the amount of “practice” and frustrates the parents because they can no longer go out in public. Not fun.
But then you forge ahead, and go out in public anyway… and try your best.
Definitely agree that age plays a part – often a big one. But I identify with so much of what you wrote. I adore my CJ, and it kills me to see other people fling looks at her. Because hey – she’s making me crazy too, but I still love her to pieces.
“it’s an awful cycle of emotions I’m trapped in. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
I so identify with the above, even though my feelings don’t have to do with difficulties with my child. None the less I also feel trapped in a cycle of emotions and I don’t wanna be here anymore either.
You’re going through an awful lot right now and I hope you remember not to be too hard on yourself. Be kind to yourself. This situation is not your fault and you’ll soon be learning ways to help Cordy cope.
I heard the following words from an Oprah show and they are oh so true:
We do the best we can and when we know better…we do better.
Hang in there…
I am going thru the same things right now with my son. The thing is, you see that something may be wrong and you are addressing it. Thumbs up to you!