One thing about Josh, it seems, is that if nothing else, he keeps things interesting around here. You just cant predict things when it comes to him. And predicting things is something I like to do. I like to be in the know, try to be atleast one step ahead and not be caught off guard. That isn’t to say that if I know something, I will actually do anything about it. I just like to be prepared, mentally, atleast. I think. I don’t really know.
This past week, the house was packed with people. People here, people there, people everywhere. Food didn’t last longer than a day, one giant shopping trip, and two meals later you were scrounging for crumbs in the bottom of the fridge. The one thing I worried about was how Josh would react to it all. He has been known to freak out because of a Christmas tree coming in the house. He doesn’t like other people coming into his space, and new people, or people he doesn’t know really well, often upset him.
But last week he didn’t freak out at all. He was the picture of perfect. He did well in school, attended his classes, and did what he was suppose to. He barely cried…and somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if we had turned that corner. The one that no one talks about, where the kid with issues finally makes progress and never retreats to old behaviors. Yea, I know.
I should stop now and insert a disclaimer, stating that I do really love him how he is, and not for who he will be, or something like that…but I am tired of adding disclaimers to everything I write, and instead am just going to go with it…launch off into something I know nothing about.
Yesterday Josh was back to himself. The old self. The self that screams and cries, and hates this, and hates that, and nothing you do will ever be right. There are too many people, not enough people. He didn’t want that, but he doesn’t want this, and don’t even think about giving him that because this will just upset him more. The kind of actions that just spin you in circles with no end in sight, and make you get down on your knees and beg for it to stop. Pent-up from the week, I suppose, unleashed last night.
He wouldn’t eat dinner. Didn’t want anyone near him. Didn’t want to get ready for bed, and once in bed, he lay there screaming, crying, and throwing himself around.
Was he hungry, sick, tired, or upset?
Was it some reaction to something that had happened during the day? The week? Was it something that was irritating him? How was I suppose to know and what was I suppose to do about it?
This morning when I woke him up to get him ready for school, his eyes snapped open, he looked around a few seconds then launched into his crying session that didn’t end. He wouldn’t eat breakfast, refused to do the things he normally does, and freaked out over having anything done for him. It was a fight to get him into the car and off to school when normally he goes somewhat willingly.
So it really shouldn’t have surprised me when I got a call at work today – from school – telling me that I needed to pick him up, because surprise surprise, he wasn’t calming down and they needed to continue on with the other kids in the class. On the way there, I couldn’t help but think. And wonder, and again second guess everything…because what else do you do? What else CAN you do? It wasn’t anything spectacular, no magic stop for his crying when I walked in, infact I think he figured that this wasn’t good – and he tossed himself on the floor for good luck.
I know its up and down with him, I know it will most likely always be, and since I cant keep ahead of him…then I guess we will just be going for it. Taking things one step at a time, trying not to think too much of the unknown future, and attempt to focus on the here and now, tackling the issues that are currently in front of us before moving too far ahead.
The 19th was six years. Six years since his mom has been gone, and while I know he doesn’t remember her, that doesn’t help matters in my mind any. I always have to wonder what she would have done. I have to question…she most likely would have been more compassionate to his needs, and more understanding to his crying. She probably wouldn’t have just left him in his room, screaming. But she isn’t here to do what she would have done, and hes stuck with me.
I wonder sometimes tho, if its right.
Right for Josh.
Whats right isn’t always the best, and whats the best isn’t always right. Its not always black and white, cut and dry. Sometimes things don’t make sense, and they don’t add up. And what am I suppose to do when something isn’t clear. How do I know whats right for him?
I just keep going, hoping that it wont do too much harm. Hoping that eventually he will calm down, and we will move on. But until then, we just keep hanging on. Hoping. Wishing. And really, not knowing.