put down the gun and clean your room

During my first pregnancy, I had every expectation that the child growing inside my body would be perfect. When I held that baby girl in my arms for the first time, I again divined perfection. Ok, so maybe not perfection, but perhaps normalcy. I suspect very few mothers give birth to a beautiful, healthy baby and anticipate the worst. I certainly didn’t.

I have spent much of the past 6 years mourning the loss of my anticipated perfection. MY loss and HER loss of normalcy. And we are so far away from worst case scenario with our daughter. Nowhere near worst case possibilities. But still, there is that acute awareness of loss and grief that sometimes sneaks up on me. When I am washing dishes. Putting her to bed. Folding clothes. I wonder – “what would my life – my family - be like if all three of my kids were ‘typical’ kids”

Sam is 7. we knew at two years of age there was a speech delay - apraxia. At about 5 years, we learned there was ADHD and Dyslexia. And we knew, still yet, there was something else. Something yet to be determined. And in April of this year, we learned that the unknown does have a name. Thy name is bipolar disorder. Once called manic depressive. I am not getting into the nitty gritty of the disease. If you read blogs – you know how to Google.

We have friends, some family even, that think the diagnosis is bunk. That she is just a high maintenance child. These people have not witnessed one of her rages – which are typical of bipolar children. We had one this past weekend that rocked our world. It took me and hubby to physically restrain her. My dear friend from Miss. was here visiting – she’s an ER nurse. She says to me in the middle of this rage – “tcole, she is psychotic”
Ever had a medical professional say that to you about your child? No, I didn’t think so.

Long miserable story short – we now have her in intensive outpatient treatment. We have changed her meds – for the second time since April. she is being tested - psychological testing stuff.

me. (it's always about me, remember) i am exhausted. mentally, physically, spiritually. i can't say i am defeated, because I AM NOT. but i do feel like i have been beat with a baseball bat about the head for a week or two. prolly look like it too and DO NOT even care.

for those of you requesting i return to blogging - you may wish you had kept your mouths shut. i don't have a lot of fun stuff to share right now.

my life has been an emotional battleground for the past four months with my family as the casualties.

but on the upside, about the title of this post - which does make me smile, btw...

last night, i overheard my hubby say this to out middle daughter. "Honey, put down the gun and clean your room." I stopped in my tracks. did not breath. what an absurd thing to say to a five year old, i thought to myself. and then i remembered, she was playing with her brother's water pistol.

AUDIBLE EXHALE...