Tuesday, March 25, 2014


So my last post got some traffic. Lots of traffic. My most viewed post ever. By, like, a lot.

A lot, a lot.

Almost twice as many views as my previously highest viewed post.

That leads me to believe one (or a combination) of the following:

1- Some of you shared that post with a friend who has been struggling with their own child's.... stuff. Or someone shared this blog with you.

2- You've been around my child and after reading it the first time you had a flashback to a recent event and thought "Is that why that... Oh, yep. That's why that happened. It's on that list-y thing-y she posted. Glad I checked it.... again."

                 a.) She's a good friend and mom.  I'm happy to walk alongside her as she
                    figures this thing out with the help of professionals.

                 b.) She's using this made up diagnosis to justify her own bad parenting.

                 c.) She's a nutter.

3- You're going through the list yourself and thinking "Hmmmm. Is that why my kid does that thing? Maybe I should talk to his teacher/his doctor/a friend about this."

4- You've called CPS and need good hard data to record one of my many negligent abuses.

5- You ARE CPS and need good hard data to record one of my many negligent abuses.

So I feel I should address these theories I have about these possible reasons for the explosion. (That and I had Starbucks after 7:30 and I can't sleep.)

1- Hi! If you're new, nice to meet you! I'm new at this whole thingie and have no idea what I'm doing but I'm happy to share what I do (and ultimately what I don't) know about SPD. Especially our family's own special brand of SPD. I won't just post about that but it's a big part of my life right now. For the first time both us parents are on the same page and it's an exciting time for us; to finally understand our daughter how she's wired and how to help her navigate life.... together. As a team.

If you're not new, thanks for holding in there.... and visiting. A lot. I've gotten lots of love from you and am thankful for all the warm fuzzies. That being said, I cannot share all the comments (or any of the comments from the previous post) on the blog because her name was used in them. Right now I'm not publishing her name on this open blog so that 1) I can leave this blog open for Moms who many not know me personally. 2) She can know if a prospective school or employer Googles her name (if they still do that in the future) it will not link back to this dorky blog her mom did. If you post a comment I will see it, be thankful for you and your friendship... but not publish it if it has her name.  (I'm thinking I need to be like one of those cool blogger Mamas that gives her kid a nickname. I'll put that on the list of things I need to do. Yep, number 2,731.)

2- Yep, that's why she melted down at that playdate. It was just too much stuff for her to handle. Hopefully we'll have a better time next time. Whatever happened, we're working on it. Trust me.

                       a.) I love you more than you know. I keep your posts and comments
                            in a little pocket of my heart to be taken out and looked over again
                            and again. It keeps me sane to know that I have friends who don't
                            think I am insane.

                      b.) I WISH my bad parenting caused this, because all I would need is a
                           visit from Super Nanny and my life would be "normal". But it's not.
                           It's real and if you want  to see the therapy in action and the results
                           we get when we have PT (or don't have PT) you're welcome to
                           come over any time.... because we're working on it ALL. THE.
                           TIME. Seriously, it took her 3 weeks to get her feet into a bin full
                           of lentils without reacting like a contestant on Fear Factor. Tell me
                           how my parenting could have caused that.

                        c.) I wish you all the best in life. Goodbye.

3- I am always ready to talk. (Really. Have you met me?) Always. If you have that nagging feeling in your gut that  this is something your child is dealing with and you don't know what to do next let me know. We'll get Starbucks and stay up waaaay to late talking about it. I'll help you in any way I can, I promise.

4- If you want the good stuff come over riiiiight before nap time. When she's good and stimmed out from a busy morning and is too tired to know what her body needs next. Yeah. That's the good stuff.

5- Ilovemychild. I'magoodmother. Pleasedon'ttakeheraway.

All that being said, I'm kinda having a bit of anxiety that I put this out there.

I'd watch the numbers go up every time I checked the computer and I'd think about what I wrote and I'd be all..

I mean, my most viewed post currently is how wacked out I think my child is. Great parenting, Jess. Good job.

I had told someone that knew early on about her SPD about my post and she said "I didn't think you wanted people to know." Which was true. I had specifically told her not to tell specific people anything about any of this. I wanted to keep this kinda close to my chest. Sharing it with those I thought needed to know and that's all.

Sunday School Teacher- Yeah, she should know.
Friends that we have playdates with- Yeah, them too.
That judgy family member who will be sure to send me countless emails about how I'm wrong.- Nope.
That one friend of a friend that I met at that one baby shower 4 years ago.... Nah, she doesn't need to know.

But why? Why did I want to keep that to myself?

The truth is I was embarrassed. For goodness sakes we only have one and we broke it, twice.

I was angry. He's only giving us one. (He's made that clear as day.) We couldn't have a "good" one? We had to have a "hard" one? Really?

I didn't want other people's judgement on me. Everyone is clearly better at this than I, or at least they're gonna think it.

I didn't want other people's judgement on her. You know, the weird girl. That has the thing. The thing where she's unstable and hard to be around. Let's not invite her over because she's just too much. Why don't you invite that sweet little girl that sits quietly when she's supposed to with the headband on her head where it's supposed to be.... not across her forehead.

But ultimately I didn't want it to be her identity. I didn't want people to see right past all the good stuff and just see the rough patches. Because there's a lot of good stuff and I don't want anyone to miss it while we're all waiting for her to have a sensory fueled meltdown:

She's hysterically funny, deeply compassionate, insanely smart. She's fearless and daring.

She's convinced it's her job to exercise our 12+ year old cat by sitting 3 feet away from her and gesturing for the cat to sit next to her, only to get up and move another 3 feet away so the cat "can live a longer and more healthy life".

She's eager to learn every day (maybe not for the length of time I hope for but at least once every day).

She vacuums, feeds the kitties, makes her bed, and sets the table for dinner as a matter of course, because it's how she helps the family.

She's always singing or humming something around the house, filling it with her own special music.

She wakes up chattering away, narrating her life as she does her morning chores. Usually reminding herself to be quiet mid-sentence because "someone might be sleeping".

She constantly prompts herself (and others) using the little songs from "Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood".

She loves people that will talk to her like a person, usually over sharing one of our many hospital stays or doctor visits... only to catch herself and say something to the effect of "How are YOU doing today?"

But most importantly she loves Jesus and prays more than any adult I know, soaking up whatever scripture we read to her like a sponge. (Seriously, I'll be looking back in the car at her with her head down and hands folded and ask her "Wat'cha doin'?" and she'll say "Talking to God. Hold on, Mom. I gotta finish my conversation.")


So do I regret "over sharing"? No.

I regret if I've painted her in a way that may lead someone to believe she is a uncontrollable brat that has regular tantrums for not getting what she wants when she wants it. (Both in writing and in person. I know I just caught myself doing it again tonight when I jokingly apologized to someone that had been in one of our many failed attempts at finding a "fit" if my daughter had beat up their child. Seriously, why do that? If I make such an effort to never speak that way about my husband in public then why do I not extend the same courtesy to my child? If you know me in real life you are free to slap me if I ever do that within your hearing again.)

I regret not standing up for her sooner and allowing what I think people think of her affect how I parent.

I regret not snuggling her more and being her safe place in the past when she just couldn't be herself at that moment.

I regret not pushing for the help I knew she needed from deep in my gut sooner.

I regret.... gosh I could go on forever!

We all could.

But over sharing? No, I think I shared just enough. And I'll let that be that for a while.

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