Friday, September 24, 2010

The Storm is Passing

Or else we're just in the eye of the hurricane. Haha.

In the car I thought of an analogy. Come with me to my kitchen. See this microwave?


It's a photo of one like mine. And it's just like yours, except that on mine the 2, 4, 8, and 0 don't work.

So how do I put something on for 4 minutes? I press 3:61. How about 45 seconds? I just do 51 and stop it 6 seconds early. What about 28 minutes? Well .  . . never mind. That one's too hard.

The point is, it still works . . . it just works differently. To get the results you want you have to be creative, maybe a little more attentive, more patient.

Now apply this to people.

Micro-peeps.

Do you get see what I'm getting at? My children may require more creativity, more attention and patience to get the same results, but when it comes down to it they work just fine.

The one flaw in my analogy is that unlike my microwave, pushing the wrong buttons on these four beauties means that the door blows open, smoke attacks your eyes, and everything bursts into flames.

But anyway.

I don't say this to excuse bad behavior; there is certainly a lot of that.

(Like when someone lies about their homework being done or sneaks the last brownie. Or uses my lipstick outside on the playhouse or freaks, "You disgusting little back-washer! You got Goldfish in my Gatorade!")

It's the other half of the equation that's the struggle. The half where the hard wiring is mis-connected. The half that takes a minor incident and interprets a full-scale attack. The half that seems to disregard consequences until it's too late. The half that makes the light in their eyes fade to black.

That's the part that makes me wonder who's going to call the police--one of the kids or one of the neighbors.

That part that makes me want to cry. Or scream. Or run away. Or hide.

And I'm telling you that other half--well, sometimes it's just a lot to take.

Thank goodness yesterday is over. That this week is basically over. I'm ready to be back to normal. (Whatever normal is.)

See, the danger in telling you about my woes is that if I don't follow up you'll think I'm still about to hitch hike to the funny farm.

I want you to know that today was a much better day. It means a lot to me to know that you care--it means more than you can probably ever know.


4 comments:

Silver Strands said...

Your posts are not only entertaining, but encouraging Rebecca. LOVE reading your blog.
oxoxo
Denalee

Mopsie said...

So glad things calmed down a bit. I don't even know what to say. Except, you're awesome, you're doing the best you can, and those mostly-great kids are so blessed to have you and Bryce as parents. (They may not acknowledge it until they're 30, but it's still true.) We love you.

brooklyn said...

i have missed reading your blog. i feel like i get a second here or a minute there and i still need to catch up!

i think you a fantastic mom.

carliedavid said...

Rebecca, you are a Class Act! Your family is beautiful and you are learning eternal parenting skills. I finally got help for my ADHD when I was 58 years of age, and I just cry when I think of all the years of frustration and depression. You are a pioneer in your sphere and I encourage you to take on your insurance company. Write letters to the editor of your local paper, and anything else that brings attention to the dilemma. You will benefit your own children and perhaps many others. Remember, it's the "practice of medicine" and it's an ongoing process to align the doctors with the insurance adjusters. Thank you for your great example of one who is long-suffering and enduring to the end. Love, Carlie Arntsen