A Blog Post

So I've been wrestling with a blog post for a couple of days now, because I want to talk about some of the struggles my husband and I have had with our oldest child, but I feel almost that I am revealing an ugly secret - something shameful. I suppose this is because there is a part of me that feels that I haven't handled things right - that maybe if I'd just done things better we wouldn't have these problems. Maybe I paid too little attention to him. Maybe I paid too much attention. 

Or maybe I'm struggling because it's hard (really hard) to admit in a public forum that my child, while amazing in a lot of way, has problems. Real, human problems. And worse than that, I don't know how to make them better. I'm his Mom, but I don't know how to fix it.

My oldest kid has this amazing, fantastic heart. And he's smart - really smart. And he can be funny, and sweet and generous....and also mean, angry, rude, bossy, defiant, aggressive...and sometimes I can't find my sweet child in there at all. He demands almost constant attention, which is exhausting. And he'll make all these rules for even a simple game of catch, becoming furious if we won't play his way. I don't know if he's ADHD, or a "Spirited Child" or some other label, but I know that he has a hard time controlling himself, both physically and emotionally. I know he feels things VERY strongly; that hearing "no," even in response to an unreasonable request, can send him into a destructive rage. 

So I'm struggling. Because I want to reach out and have people tell me they've been there too, that they too have occasionally watched their child acting out and seen someone they don't even recognize. I want them to tell me what worked, what didn't work, and what just made things a little easier. But I don't want to set him apart. I don't want to call him out as different. I want him to harness the energy and the creativity, but set aside the anger and the need to control everything. I don't want him to have a label, though I really don't know if that's for him or for me. I want it to be a phase. But it's not. And I have to admit that. It's not a phase. It's who he is. 

And he's my son.

Me & B, the morning after he was born.