Lessons My Kids Teach Me

I started writing this Monday morning, after yet another crazy wake-up.  I told a friend this morning that it starts to feel like a war zone around here: We're just waiting for the next bomb (Avery's behavior) to go off.  Since I began this post, we've seen the pediatrician again, and added another med in addition to the one he's already been taking.  This one offers more 24 hour coverage, so it will cover the crazy mornings, and hopefully help his brain adjust better as the other medication wears off in the afternoons, rather than just pin balling around in his head, wreaking havoc.  Last night was his first night; he went to bed and stayed asleep without the usual issues, and this morning did not have the chaotic, frenetic quality his mornings usually have.  Praise God, I have hope!  This is the calmer life my child (family) deserves.

And now, back to the original post....

I know my kids were given to me to teach me so much more than I could ever hope to teach them.  All three of them certainly teach me just how little I really know about motherhood!  They each have different little lessons here and there, but for each child, there seems to be a primary lesson within him.  Daily, Noah teaches me more and more about myself, my own childhood and coping with life in general.  In Ezra's few months, he's taught me about humility, judgement of others, and that life seldom goes according to plan.

And Avery?  This child.  Ohhhh boy.

Avery teaches me patience and humility.  He teaches me that my way is not always the better way, and he reminds to step out of my comfort zone and think outside the box.

Daily.  Hourly.  Minute to minute.

What can I say?  We're in the midst of a lot of struggles right now, but Avery's always been my out of the box sort of child (ironic, considering Noah is the one with all the diagnoses!).  If there is a different way of doing things, even if it's more difficult, that's how he's going to do it.  He's always been our token extrovert, a struggle for this introverted family of socially awkward recluses.  When the rest of us are shutting down, he's just getting geared up.  Whereas Noah tends to avoid most sensory input, Avery is sensory-seeking.  He's always been my daredevil, my higher-faster-louder child. Looking back, I can see he was always meant to be the textbook middle child, just by the way he sees the world and interacts with it.

We're dealing with a lot of behavioral issues right now.  In hindsight, I know these are not new, they've just reached a crescendo of sorts.  He is struggling socially, and I see that anxiety affecting his extroversion and daredevil behaviors. Some of my favorite Avery qualities are suffering.  His anxiety is causing major mood swings, and a lot of anger. Avery can go from happy, to meltdown, back to happy, to grumpy, to excited and gearing up to out of control, to full on temper tantrum, to what qualifies for subdued, back to meltdown, all in a course of less than ten minutes.  One minute he is an absolute angel: Loving, giving, caring, thoughtful, snuggly, happy, easy to cherish.  The next minute it's 5 am and all hell is breaking loose throughout the upstairs of my home as he wakes up and greets his day.  I go to bed praying the next morning will somehow be different--I will have more patience and have had more sleep (Dear Ezra, I love you and I love seeing your sweet, smiling face, but Mommy needs sleep...), something will click with Avery and he will suddenly understand how his behavior affects all of us--you know, a miracle.  I feel like Bill Freaking Murray in Groundfreakinghog Day.  Know what I'm saying? There are times Shawn and I have to tag out and tag the other one in, and times that counting to ten (over and over and over) just isn't enough.

This is what I do know about raising Avery: I'm the one who needs to adjust.  I'm the mom, I'm the one who needs to keep it together to get him (us) through this.