“Comparison is the thief of joy” I’ve always loved that quote. I often reference it when I start to compare my journey of motherhood with others who have what seems like a much easier journey. But this morning I didn’t even have to compare for my joy to be stolen. Autism, fragile x, anxiety-whatever you want to label it-IT stole my joy. To which I then started comparing! 😂😬😳
I went in to wake kyle up at the usual 5:20. The last few school days he has been better about walking down with me. Today he stayed in bed. James eventually had to help kyle get up and down the stairs. I knew I was in for it at that point. But I told myself to remain patient and not let him feel or sense or see my frustration. Because that makes it 100x worse, and we didn’t have time for a meltdown. It was 5:45 by the time he made it down stairs and the bus gets there at 6am!
He took his morning meds but as soon as it came time to getting dressed, the defiance began. Every time I’d finally get a pant leg on (after much resistance on his part), he’d immediately kick it off. He did this maybe 10x. Progressively getting more upset. I tried everything to let him communicate what he wanted. But I don’t think he wanted anything except not to get dressed and go to school.
It was now 5:55 and my frustration had peaked. I had picked up his thrown shoes too many times as well as his shirt thrown across the room pants and socks. Every time I’d get something on he’d immediately take it off. I stood up completely defeated and started crying. By now kyle is screaming, I’m crying and James is probably looking at me like why did I sign up for this almost 10 years ago?!
James came over and by the grace of God got kyle dressed. I walked out of the room and heard the bus pull up. Great. The fight isn’t even close to being over. He still hasn’t calmed down, so I knew the bus task was going to be rough.
And it was.
James muscled him on. With no shirt shivering, wet socks because he threw his shoes at the bus and walked through the wet grass. But not before he was shivering so bad from being cold that he made himself gag and throw up…in the grass thankfully. After James got him on I walked into the house trying to hold back tears of defeat. Tears of frustration. Tears of I don’t want to do this anymore. Tears of exhaustion. Just tears. Suck.
I try not to compare. It’s hard sometimes but for the most part I think I do a pretty good job. My journey is mine for a reason. Your journey is yours for a different reason. And that helps me not lose the joy in my journey. But this morning, my joy was stolen. This morning I couldn’t help but wish my life didn’t include autism, fragile x or horrible anxiety. I’m trying to tell myself that it was a rough morning. That’s it. But when there are more rough mornings than not rough mornings it’s hard to keep telling myself that it’s JUST a rough morning. It’s harder to keep finding joy in my journey. It’s harder not to compare my mornings from hell to someone who doesn’t have a Kyle. I’m trying hard. Extra hard today.
As I wait for the bus to pull up after kyles long day at school, I’m filled with anxiety. He’ll be here any minute, and I’m praying his day went better than the morning. I’m praying that the rest of the evening goes better than this morning-Marie comes at 4:30. Bless me. I can do hard things. I can do hard things.
Janine said this morning he finally calmed down and she was able to get his shirt and shoes back on him. He asked for his iPad but she is super good at follow through and didn’t give it to him. She told him he could try again when he got on the bus to go home. He accepted that. She said his day was good and earned the iPad for the ride home. Marie came and the session went super smooth. Thank goodness. A tender mercy, I’m sure.
I’m trying to dig deep for some positive vibes cuz tomorrow morning I gotta wake up and try this all over again. Not knowing what will happen. But like I said at the end of this post…I can do hard things. Basically, cuz I don’t have another option. But I can do hard things.