I read a lot of blogs written by a lot of powerful, insightful, and loving moms, some of whom I've known most of my life, and all of whom face their own challenges when it comes to parenting their children. Lately it seems as if those of us with special needs kids and teens are going through a rough patch. Maybe it's the season, maybe it's that our kids are all growing and changing and entering new phases of their respective disabilities, I don't know.
Reviewing my own blog last weekend, which I do once in a while just to check in on myself, my characters and sometimes in-your-face posts, I noticed one theme noticably absent when it comes to our oldest son; positives.
Not like the "accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative" sort of stuff; that would be unrealistic. But I admit that for all the bitching and complaining I do about my teenage son's behavior, I sort of overlook the good stuff that is, without a doubt, still present and for sure makes up who Wolf is as a person as much as the Asperger's or OCD or whatever the heck is going on inside his head.
This has followed me around for the last few days as our family of Three Minus One took a break at a local ski resort. As we skied, ate, and played in the hotel swimming pool I became acutely aware of other teenagers' behavior, their mannerisms and modalities, and wondered, if just perhaps, I had buried the Good to manage the Bad.
What is it I miss?
I miss a barky sort of laugh that comes with little reservation at a Pink Panther movie. I miss stacks of science fiction novels beside a bed that is no longer in this room. I miss an incredible mind that can process facts and history's important dates with the efficiency of a PC. I miss the boxes of Legos and K'nex and nuts and bolts. I miss a boy who somehow became a man with little help from his mother but who still, somewhere, possesses enough of my personality to remind me of me.
Perhaps instead of burying what is good, I should take a lesson from Therapist B. and remind myself that there is always positive to reflect upon, every day. And to celebrate it with as much fanfare as necessary until we all believe it.