Blindsided again

September 1, 2017

Last night, I was blindsided again by the depth of emotions always underneath the surface of autism, adhd, and anxiety… It was such a paradox, since just yesterday morning, I had posted about the incredible joy and privilege I have as a doctor to instill hope into my patients and parents of adhd. But last night, I definitely was not the logical doctor. I was the vulnerable, fearful, brokenhearted mom, as I once again went through the wave of emotional extremes in the night that is called Open House…

I had forgotten to prepare myself emotionally for this night. It seemed like it should be an exciting night, full of expectation…which it was in a lot of ways. But, even an event seemingly one of simply obtaining information and filling out more forms, can painfully bring to the surface, and force us to face, the ways in which our children are different.

It was such a busy, bustling atmosphere…excited older kids filling the halls, happy to see their friends again, and trying to act a little more grown up as they freely moved about the hallways without their parents…contrasted with clingy little kids, afraid of this next chapter everyone tells them will be so much fun…and frazzled parents trying to follow the steps they are told to do–pick up the forms, drop off the school supplies, meet the teachers, try not to lose your kids!

There was immediate joy for us in this night too. Brandon had already picked up the boys and had been through the maze of entering the school, immediately following Keenan, our oldest, to settle the question of “Would this be the year???”

I walked in later, coming straight from work, and was greeted by the bright eyes and thumbs up sign from one of our best friends, which told me that YES!, this was indeed the year that Keenan and his best friend since preschool were finally going to be in the same class together, after five years of being disappointed on this night!

And with that, the emotions began to surface…first with these tears of joy and thankfulness welling up in my eyes.

I weaved through the busy hallway, trying to meet up with all of my boys, so thankful to be in this place we had come to love so much. This was my school too when I was their age. My parents still live across the street! Our boys love it here.  Brandon and I had prayerfully decided to keep them here, even when our new home was outside of its boundaries.  I kept walking and met the eyes of teachers, support staff, parents of our kids’ friends who had become our own dear friends, and our beloved principal, all excited to be here this night to begin this next year in our journey. I was excited too…

I walked by and briefly met Keenan’s new teacher, and told her I was thankful that they would be together.

I walked by the preschool classroom that would be Luke’s this year, again thankful for the smiling faces, the brightness of the room, the wonder of all that Luke would finally be able to experience, and the joy that would come with all three of our boys in the same school for the next two years!

Then, I came to the room with Jude’s name on the list. He will have the first grade teacher we knew the least about.  Yet I knew from our previous years, not to get discouraged by that. So many times, our false disappointment in not getting the teacher we had hoped for, had turned into amazing reassurance that the Lord knew exactly who we needed for each child. So, I introduced myself and found my boys, unpacking all of the new supplies into Jude’s desk. Jude was clutching his beloved “box of cars” that came with him with to especially anxious and new situations…his physical comfort…the trademark that people had come to know him by…what he used to more easily interact with so many people young and old…

I could see on his face, the fear starting to roll in, as he tried to figure out “was this the day that I have to stay here by myself and you are leaving me alone?” As the fear increased, he turned back to what he knew to be safe, and repetitively kept asking us to go see his kindergarten teacher…his sweet angel the Lord had provided for him (& us) last year…

We made our way with the little boys to the gym where they were supposed to be excited about seeing a magician, though I’m pretty sure they didn’t even understand what a magician was. All of the kids filed in and found seats on the bleachers. The brave ones were already sitting on the top row, ready for the fun to begin. The more timid were cautiously approaching the bottom step with their anxious parents trying to tell them to go find a seat so the show could begin. Jude’s face began to crumple with the giant crocodile tears welling up and falling. His usually brave little brother was by his side, still trying to comfort him, but himself not knowing what to expect.

And there it came…the fullness of emotion that comes with leaving your vulnerable child… …hoping that it will all work out… …pained that you can’t stay to help him… …trusting all of these decisions we had made to keep him here, in this place that we loved, with these people who had shown themselves over and over again to be amazing… …and the ugly way all of this immediately makes Brandon and me turn our thoughts and our body language against each other, each of us hurting in our own fears, and in ugly human pride, turning our fears into anger and judgment, “I am doing it right. You should not be doing what you are doing. You are making it worse.” All lies…of fear and doubt.

In this emotion, we make it back to the classroom where we will hear from the new teacher that will lead Jude this year. She shares the excitement she has for the new year, the plans she has made, the schedules they will have…all good things…until in my mind the little details become the BIG roadblocks and fears…things that will be so easy for typical kids, but will need to be taught to Jude…transitions & expectations other kids will easily meet, that will be struggles for Jude…All of this swirling around in my head as I listen to this teacher’s loving and reassuring words our family always longs to hear…”Your family time is the most important”, “The homework is meant to be practice,” as she gives us the grace to be late sometimes if family time rightly takes over…all of these good things that I will cherish later, but the fears and anxieties choke them out tonight, as I also suddenly realize that in first grade, there will no longer be a para in the room, an extra eye to watch over Jude and give him the extra help & guidance he may need.

I had forgotten to prepare for all of this! Our beautiful summer, when Jude had made so many BIG gains, and had continued to blossom and literally grown into this big happy fun boy that we know and love…This summertime had again become comfortable, and Jude was Jude–our amazing blessing the Lord had given us to shine His light on us, and to anyone who knows Jude (John 9:3). But here, at this milestone night called Open House, we were faced again with all of the challenges in his little world, and were overwhelmed in our own fears for him, forgetting the strength he has and the power of the One who loves him more than we do…

So we listened, and then moved on to Keenan’s classroom, filled to capacity with all the parents of 5th grade. There were not even any chairs left, and I was thankful to sit in the back on the floor, with my face hidden, as I listened again to the mixture of beautiful words our family wholeheartedly agrees with…”we want them to socialize with each other, not have their faces in screens”, “it is so hard, but we want to teach them how to be organized”, “we want them to develop a love for reading”, “we want each of them to feel confident in their abilities.” And these great teachers laid out the plans they had in place to make all of these things happen…All of these words so comforting, mixed in with the laughter of these teachers who obviously enjoy working together and have stayed in just this place for so many years. I will eventually remember to cherish these words, but again tonight, now for different reasons, and with a different son’s face in my mind…the fears and anxieties choke out these encouraging words, as I realize the struggles we are again about to be up against…

I had forgotten to prepare for this too! Keenan over these months, had begun to be so peaceful and happy. He had been able to live in the moment, instead of continuing to worry and countdown the summer, as he had started to do after only the very first week! Those moments of anxiety of summer ending, he had learned to capture and turn back into enjoying the “now.” These were things we had worked so hard at, with the helps and people the Lord had again provided all along the way. He was doing so well that I had been willing to accept and go along with his refusal to even say the word “school.”  But now, here we were in the building, and we could already see the ugly face of his anxiety working its way up and out in him. Others would see a busy, crazy fun boy, running around with his friends. We would again be thankful for this too, eventually, but tonight when those people were all gone, his fears would surface into anger, sass, inappropriate words, and misbehavior–the tangible signs of his internal fears.

I knew the battle had begun in his world of transitioning from the fun and freedom of summer into new unknown routines and expectations that would initially cause him to freeze and act out. The exhausting battles that would ensue over homework. All of the unbelievably hard things of adhd and anxiety, that in my pediatrician mind, I knew to be the difficulties of executive function–the inability of his brain to travel from fight or flight response to logical thinking…the difficulty of traveling the uphill of “just getting started” into the comfort of knowing he could actually do it. These are all the things my logical brain knows when I am able to counsel and encourage my patients and their parents.  But tonight, my mom heart and mind were overwhelmed.

As we all left the school for the night, full of mixed emotions, fatigue and hunger, unfortunately the tornado of negativity and sin continued. We tried in our exhaustion to make it through the routines of dinner and bedtime. We tried to add in moments of encouragement and fun laughter, but more often than not we failed, with words of impatience, and body language of disapproval & frustration. And as Brandon & I turned off our light, I spoke these words…as much of a reminder to myself, as to him, “His mercies are new every morning.” (Lamentations 3:23)

Then, this morning, as I sat down in my favorite spot in our sunroom, with my coffee, my Bible, and my devotional,** my mind still spinning from the night before, but my body refreshed from a night of sleep… I opened my devotional to the page I had not yet read from yesterday, the day of the Open House, and my heart was kissed once again by the amazing, powerful, personal touch of our Lord who remembers us, loves us, and KNOWS us…

The title of yesterday’s page…”Why We Never Give Up”…

The verses…2 Corinthians 4:16-18… “That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.”

The words in the body of the devotional from the day…”Parenting is difficult. It’s a lot harder and a much longer assignment than most of us knew when we signed on for it. Sometimes it gets so hard that we’re tempted to give up–give up on pursuing meaningful relationships with our kids, give up on teaching them, give up on disciplining them, give up on expecting God to work in them. But {he} wants us to see the bigger picture. And the way we gain that perspective is to stop focusing on our troubles and fix our eyes on the glory that makes the heaviest burdens seem light and the eternal future that makes even lifelong struggles seem momentary.”

The prayer for the day…”Lord, I really need your help to keep from focusing on current troubles. They loom so large and appear so relentless. Sometimes I want to give up. Please help me to fix my gaze on the realities I can’t see with my physical eyes. Renew me day by day.”

And with that…the living, breathing, intimately personal reminder that He will be with us, the crazy mixed up Weis family, in a way that each of us needs, walking in us, and by our sides… …With that, we are off…to start the new year!!

**Devotional…”The One Year Praying through the Bible for your Kids”, by Nancy Guthrie