Last updated on April 12, 2020
When I started this blog seven years ago today I had a toddler, a preschooler, and the misguided belief that things would get easier when they were older. Oh silly silly Jen! The boys may be able to fasten their own seat belts and oversee their own toilet use, but no, things haven’t gotten much easier. Recognizing this on the cusp of the teen years is a little disturbing.
Oh God. It just hit me that A will be a teenager in fifteen months. I’m a little lightheaded. I’m not ready for this.
I digress, per usual. When I started up this little writing experiment, I did it for fun. It was something I did in the afternoons when the boys
napped were hog-tied in their rooms having afternoon quiet time. It was a way to clear my head and I loved it. It has grown into so much more and I love it even more than I did seven years ago.
Seven years ago I knew nothing about giftedness and now I live in the eye of the storm. It is a uncertain place to live and I don’t like it. I can deal with change, uncertainty is my nemesis. Here in the eye, you can see above and below you and it’s crystal clear. You can almost convince yourself that it’s a beautiful sunny day, though a bit windy. Then somewhere a butterfly farts, and you inexorably begin drifting toward the eye wall. The eye wall, where the winds are the most fierce and dangerous. And suddenly the day isn’t so sunny and you’re flailing, trying like hell to return to the relative calm of the eye. It’s nearly impossible, as there’s nothing to grab or push off of to get moving, the winds are so unpredictable you don’t know which way is up, and you can’t see or hear or think because of the chaos. You start to doubt that the eye ever existed and you feel so very, very alone.
That’s what it’s like to parent a twice-exceptional child.
Right now I’m in the eye, but I’m starting to catch the aroma of nectar poofs. December was a rough month here. Even though I should have known better, we took A off his ADHD meds over the holidays, in hopes he’d gain some weight and lose some tics. Neither happened. It was a long month, full of obsessions with Gangnam Style (and every variation thereof–our favorite was when A was playing tug with Rosie and it became “doggie style” ::facepalm::), Minecraft, and that gawdawful Troll Song. He’s back on meds, two of those three have disappeared (and I’m about to go all Creeper on the damned Minecraft), and I’m trying like hell to return to the relative calm of the eye. Yesterday I was desperately searching for any kind of school for 2e kids; I think I might give a kidney for the Bridges Academy to open an Illinois branch. I saw they’re opening a boarding school for 2e kids next year, but unless the aforementioned butterfly starts popping out gold coins with those farts, it’s not going to happen.
Today is a little better. We’re slowly starting to get back into something resembling a routine, and I’m talking myself down off the ledge. I’m just tired of 2e crap. It never goes away and it always flares up with no warning. I’m tired of the Möbius strip of this-causing-that-resulting-in-this-which-makes-that-happen lather rinse repeat, all wrapped up in a noose of bewilderment. It’s an M.C. Escher treadmill, I swear. It’s hardest because I left my professional support network back in Colorado, and don’t have one here in Illinois yet. All the therapists and specialists and tutors and schools we leaned on are all a thousand miles away. I’d give my other kidney for a local developmental pediatrician who gets giftedness and 2e and how they can overlap with ADHD/OCD/ABCXYZ. I’m now theoretically kidney-less, but with a great school and doctor for the Most Complex Child on the Planet™.
It’s been a crazy seven years. May the next seven be the blessed calm after the storm has passed.
On a personal note, nominations for the 2013 Bloggies are open. Pamela from Red, White, and Grew has nominated Laughing at Chaos for best humorous and best parenting blog. If you’re so inclined, I’d be thrilled if you’d consider adding to those nominations. I am not good at asking for things, but am obviously working on that. Thanks.