Tunnel Vision

One of the requirements, in order to get the kids back, was to attend parenting classes. Which I did. Faithfully for two weeks. Every night, for two weeks, I would show up, besides myself, there was a group of teenagers that varied from day to day, and the occasional grand-parent, looking for advice on raising “Today’s kids”. The topics varied. But the majority of the things centered in around the kids. Listen to the kids. Dream for them. Follow them. Let them tell you what to do…and so forth. There was the occasional bit that made sense, but for the most part, I felt like I was being told to let the kids rule the house, and all would be fine.

The second week, they covered topics like “What to expect” and “How to deal with temper tantrums”. There was a “Know it all teacher” who had never actually had kids, but felt competent enough to tell everyone else, how to raise their kids. She did her best to cover the basics, but I left feeling more unprepared than I was going in. Because one thing had been made obvious: no one, not even the teacher, could prepare me.

It was something I had learned years ago. The best parenting advice I had ever gotten: Expect the unexpected. When Emmy was born, I was flying by the seat of my pants. Not knowing what to do, or when to do it. Parenting, did NOT come naturally as some say it does. Things didn’t just “Click” and I didn’t understand things – the way people told me I would. It was a learn-as-you-go, sort of thing, and since I didn’t like the fact that I was literally, experimenting on my own daughter, I tried to pretend I knew what I was doing.

Six years later, and I still have no clue what Im doing. The only thing I know now, is what I heard back then, is true: expect the unexpected…and I do now, I expect things to happen when I least expect them to. It doesn’t mean Im any more prepared, because Im not. I no longer pretend to know what Im doing, because that doesn’t do any good. Its obvious I have no clue, Im just not sure what gave it away: The blank stare, or my inability to actually do something about it.

No amount of training, or classes could prepare me for what has happened these past few years, or even whats happened these past few months.

No classes could prepare me for the kids. Or the kids, for me. No one could have told me just how intense things would be. The intense, fierce, wildness of the kids. The intense love and hate. The fierceness behind the three innocent faces and the wild nature that comes out daily. No one could prepare me for long days and late nights. No one could have ever told me that I could be so happy one moment and crashing so low the next. No one, could tell me that I would love this much, again.

No amount of parenting classes would teach me how to deal with Joshs melt downs, and Madison’s attitudes. No amount of training, teaching, or classes could teach me just how intense Dylan could be. No one could tell me that I would be loving, laughing and living all over again. No one. Not one person, could have prepared me for what has been going on. Good and bad. These past few months. Because really, how can someone prepare someone else, for the unknown, the unexpected.

Last night, Josh woke everyone up with one of his mid-night screams. The kind that start out with him just tossing himself around, and erupt into a full blown nightmare that he doesn’t seem capable of coming out of. The ones that come every so often, and when he does come out, hes screaming, crying, and so terrified of whatever was going on in his little mind, that its hard no to break down with him. No one could prepare me, or tell me, that I would be getting up in the middle of the night, wishing away all the bad dreams, and bad things that had happened to a little boy, who technically wasn’t even mine, and until a few weeks ago, didn’t really…belong to me.

No one could prepare me for the long night ahead of me, or the talks I have had, in the wee hours of the morning, the time of day when nothing makes sense, but everything, even the stupidest things, seem to add up. The time of morning where your brain (if your lucky enough to have one) begs to go back to sleep and do just that. Sleep. But last night, was clearly not the time to sleep, because just after 2 in the morning, Josh woke up. Screaming. As a result, the rest of us were up as well…and because its apparently hard to go back to sleep after being awaken in the middle of the night, the kids both followed behind me, after I had swooped Josh out of his crib and stumbled back to the couch.

No one could have told me that last night, I would be sitting on the couch at two am, witnessing one of the sweetest things, that I, personally have seen in a long time. No one could have told me that at two am, I would be sitting there, trying to comfort Josh, with little success…when Madison leaned in for a hug with him, and he stopped. He just stopped crying, and let her hug him. His body relaxed, and he sniffed a few times, before he calmed down enough to actually allow the rest of us to think. He pulled back from her, and looked around. He looked at Madison, at me, at Dylan, and back again. He rubbed his eyes, and sighed.

Sometimes, there is nothing more that I want than to be able to give these kids, all of them, a life they deserve. Sure, they have attitudes, and are strong willed, stubborn, difficult kids, but they deserve so much more than I could give them…I wish sometimes I could just take everything that has happened to them, away, and give them a completely different life, complete with parents, the perfect world and the dog they always wanted. But then I look at something as simple as last night, and I wonder…if they hadn’t been through what they’ve been though, would they not have connected like they have? Would they not have been able to help each other though things that, while some of us may be nonverbal, and some of us may prefer not to talk – even though we can, would they not have been able to connect…on such a deeper level, and know, from the heart, what the other is going through?

I have to wonder, and I will forever wonder.

No one, can, no one could, and no one will ever, be able to prepare me for what to expect, what I should have expected, or what I should be expecting. I know that daily, my thoughts and ideas on kid raising will change. I know that I will make plenty of mistakes, and I will screw up more than enough times. I know that I wont be able to give them what they deserve, or what they really should have…

But I will be able to hopefully give them one thing, if nothing else, I can try to give them each other. I can try my hardest to keep them together, and give them someone that understands, that knows, that really, truly gets it, and while they might not all be blood siblings, and while they might argue like cats and dogs, and fight like there is no tomorrow…I know somewhere, deep down, that they really do love each other. That they understand, and when things get tough going, they are the first in line to give a hug, lend a hand, of just be there…

No one could prepare me for this. For these kids. These wonderfully, awesome, caring, loving kids…that I really…don’t deserve to have custody of. No one could prepare me for the heart melting moments when they show each other the love they really do have. No one. Could have prepared me, and no one can prepare them.

But I have learned, to expect the unexpected…and that sometimes the unexpected moments, the ones that can be so difficult, and completely random and so out of place…are the ones worth reliving.

Over…and over….and over.