"yet"

I am a very impatient person. To my core. I want things when I want them and I get fairly nasty if I don't get them. Every time I call my parents and mention that it was taking forever to hear back about a job interview Kelly had, or when our windows were delayed at the house, or when I was pregnant and I wanted to go into labor my parents always laughed at me. I've always been this way. It's definitely a flaw, and I can tell you for sure that Heavenly Father is "helping" me get through this flaw by giving me plenty of opportunities to work on it. I guess this is where I'm supposed to say I'm grateful for the challenges.......

ANYWAY, I remember talking to my mom right before I was going to marry Kelly. Her friends and she were telling me not to want to rush to get my life started with him. Enjoy the small apartment, enjoy not having kids, enjoy having the couch that's falling apart, and just enjoy our time together. At the time I thought that was a great idea. Just the idea of having a tiny apartment with the man was enough for me. Turns out I got over that pretty quickly though. But we were both college students, so the poor aspect really had no hope of changing. We did what we could- I started an Etsy shop that was pretty successful for a while, and Kelly worked multiple jobs, but there's only so much you can do in Rexburg Idaho. What I could jump ahead with though was having a baby.

I was married. If I wanted to have a baby there was nobody that could tell me that I couldn't. This was our personal decision (which apparently I thought meant pressuring my husband into agreeing that we were ready when neither of had a degree and I didn't even have my residency in the states yet, BUT I DIGRESS). So, we got pregnant.

And then I miscarried at 12 weeks.

You want to test an impatient woman? Have her get pregnant and have it taken away. Suddenly it wasn't so much, "we're not having a baby yet," it was "will we ever get to have a baby?" It wasn't so much about patience as it was not having the answer to the questions I had.

I've had plenty of moments of yet. Plenty of moments where I've had to believe in the power of the word. Plenty of moments where yet wasn't even guaranteed but I had to hope for it.

Kelly hasn't finished his degree yet. 

Kelly hasn't finished his second degree yet. 

I'm not pregnant yet. 

My baby isn't out of the NICU yet. 

We haven't moved to Texas yet. 

We haven't bought a house yet. 

My toddler isn't talking yet. 

I saw a shirt the other day designed by a fellow autism mom that said, "I believe in the power of yet." It took me an embarrassingly long time to understand what it meant. Then it hit me. I thought about all of those things that I just listed off, and realized that all of them have come to pass. We are buying a house, we moved to Texas, I got pregnant and had a baby- twice, Kelly finished two degrees. We had to believe in the power of yet to get through the times that were hard. Our house isn't finished yet- so we have to be a little more patient in the apartment we're in right now.

And when it comes to Jaxon- that's the biggest time we need to believe in the power of that word. Jaxon isn't talking in full sentences yet. Jaxon can't always control his emotions yet. Jaxon doesn't want to play with other kids yet. Jaxon can't get his proper sensory input yet. 

If I were to sit here every day and deal with the things that we have to when it comes to Jaxon, without truly believing in the word "yet," and having doubt that any of those things would happen- life would be miserable. When we first got married we talked about having a baby with the hope that we would, just not yet. When I miscarried that yet was taken away, and that was the most painful part of it. The complete lack of hope that I had- the complete belief I did have in the idea that the reason I miscarried was that I was never going to be able to carry a baby.

Sometimes there are things that we don't know will ever happen, and all we crave is the hope for the future and the hope that it could. When we do have the luxury of knowing that there is in fact a yet- we can hold on for that.

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blessed with him

Jaxon wasn't in a good mood that day, and so maybe I should've known better, but I was tired of being in the house. They had been sick for a couple of weeks, and instead of just going and doing Target Drive-Up, I actually wanted to go into the store and actually be where the people are. I had noticed a couple weeks earlier that if I explain things to Jax he tends to take them better, and has a better idea of what to expect. He was mad at me because I had a bag of goldfish in the car and he wanted them, so I explained to him that we were going into the store, he was going to get into the cart, and I would then give him snacks. He calmed down from his tiny fit, and let me get him out of the car. He held my hand nicely all the way up to the entrance.

But there were no double carts.

That doesn't seem like a big deal, there's another entrance across the store, and there should be some over there. It'll take less than 2 minutes to walk over there. But I didn't explain this part to Jax. I told him we'd go into the store, he'd get into the cart and THEN he could have a snack, and the fact that there wasn't a cart threw off the entire thing.

So he snapped.

He screamed. He pulled my hair. He threw himself on the floor. He cried. I had to drag him across the Target entry with Maddox in my arms in hopes that he would calm down once we got to a cart. His shoes fell off, but I couldn't bend over and get it because he'd run off if I let go. I just went back for them later. We finally got to the cart, but he wanted nothing to do with it. He was done.

We left. I dragged him all the way back to the car from the other side of the store.

It seems like a fit, but it's not. This isn't one of those things where I can just tell him to stop or explain things to him- that makes things worse. Meltdowns are completely different from tantrums, and if I don't want them to last an entire hour I have to be very careful about how I react, and a lot of the time that means getting him out of the current situation. That means I've had to leave the park early even if I'm there with friends, and I've had to cancel outings because I knew he wouldn't react well.

I cried in my car for a solid 15 minutes. I cried about the fact that all I wanted to do at that moment was to go and visit my mom. I WISHED she had a house in Texas where I could go put my kids in the playroom, and cry to my mom about how traumatic that 5 minutes in Target was. I hit a low point, and I asked God why I was given such a difficult kid when my family was so far. I have friends with family closer and their kids are better behaved than mine. And in that low point, I said, "Why did I have to be given a kid like Jax?"

I feel guilty even typing that out, but that wasn't the first time I've felt that way, or I've asked God that question. I see other moms with their kids speaking words at 12 months old when my almost three year old says just as many. I see other moms who take their kids to the store and they sit quietly while maybe asking for a few things and being mad when they don't get them, but it lasts 5 minutes. There are other moms who don't have to pay extra money to put their kid in a preschool so he can get socialization that he doesn't get otherwise.

I'm not a perfect mom, and sometimes it feels like that is what Jax needs. He needs exactly the right amount of stimulation, and if he gets too much or too little then he'll blow. I can't discipline him like I discipline Maddox, because it'll have the opposite effect. It's hard. It's really hard.

------------

We came home that day and I went and locked myself in the bathroom while the boys watched one of their mind-numbing shows. I cried as I folded laundry and felt all kinds of pity for myself.

Eventually I came out. Jax was sitting in the corner of the sectional where he always sits to watch his shows, I went and sat next to him and he got up and gave me one of his squeeze hugs, and then sat next to me and held my hand when we watched that show. He got up soon after and got a book with pictures and pointed out different animals to me, and I'd ask him what sound they'd make and he'd laugh as he said "moo" and "ba" and "neigh neigh!" He started singing twinkle twinkle little star and I joined him, "twinkle twinkle little-" "STAR!" He gets so excited when he can finish the sentence in a song.

We moved onto You Are My Sunshine,
"you are my-"
"SUN"
"shine, my only"
"SUN"
"shine, you make me ha-"
"PY!"
"when skies are-"
"GREY!"
"you'll never know"
"DEA"
"how much I love"
"YOU!"

I cried again.

The fact of the matter is, Jax is really hard. He is a VERY very difficult kid. He has needs that are nearly impossible for me to meet. He struggles in ways that I'm still trying to figure out. Sometimes simply going to a store, and not following the exact structure I set up beforehand can be too overwhelming for him. Sometimes he doesn't get enough physical exercise and he has a hard day. Sometimes he gets too much exercise and it's a hard day. Sometimes I'm mad, like REALLY mad that I have to deal with all of this without my mom and dad around.

But then I look at that little boy. I get a squeeze hug for a solid minute. He laughs when I make animal sounds and he gets excited when we sing a song. He runs over to me when "Speechless" by Dan + Shay plays because he wants to give me cuddles for the entire song. He is a sweetheart. He loves so much. He loves his mom and his dad more than anything. He loves music to an unreal level. He will never NOT jump for joy when Thunder by Imagine Dragons comes on, and he will almost never leave you hanging when you ask him to finish the words to a song.

Sometimes I might wish I didn't have a child as difficult as Jax, but I would never want any kid other than Jax. HE is a blessing. I am blessed to be his mom, regardless how hard things can be. He is everything I've ever hoped for and more, and if I have to go through hard times in Target to get that one squeeze hug from him then I'll do it over and over again. We will get through this. I'll only get the squeeze hugs and the finishing songs for a limited time, just like eventually he'll be able to communicate with me when he's upset, and he'll tell me what he's feeling.


Update: We went to his evaluation with the school district. They said that he qualifies for the autism education. She talked as though he may not full be autistic, but still on the spectrum, but he is far enough on the spectrum to get the benefits and to get the education and services that he needs to allow him to learn and progress as much as possible. It's a blessing. We won't have to pay for his preschool anymore, and he'll get so much help, and he'll thrive. He's a hard worker that kid, and he's honestly brilliant.

Plus, he has the best hair.

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seasons

I was talking to the Bishop in my ward a couple of months ago and I just kind of let it all out. I told him how hard it was to go to church with little kids, especially mine with such high energy and such curiosity. I told him that they never want to sit in the pews and they just want to run around the halls and go into every single room and open every single cupboard or drawer. I told him how hard it was when a song ended because Jax would throw a fit because he liked that song and wasn't ready for it to be over. I told him how much I hated that Kelly was a primary teacher with me because we had to bring Maddox to all of our classes and he just wanted to roam around, and our students just wanted to play with him.

I just honestly let it all out.

I talked about how hard it is to parent Jaxon especially. I talked about how guilty I felt that I honestly prefer Maddox's company a lot of the time because Jaxon is just so much work, and Maddox will just go with the flow more often. I told him how I just wanted to sit at home on Sundays, maybe watch a Mormon message, but more or less just be in a place where our kids could do what they wanted, and nobody was hitting me and kicking me and throwing a fit because we made them sit down.

I didn't know how anyone had any spare time. Luckily I have really great sleepers, so after 7pm was my time until about 6:30am. That's when I would go grocery shopping, fold laundry, clean the car, do the dishes, put dinner away, and take a shower. So, when I say that I have spare time- it's just time to do other things that I wasn't able to do before. If I go upstairs and put clothes away from the laundry during the day then both boys follow me upstairs and pull my clothes out of my drawers. I took a shower once when they were awake and Jax managed to unlock the door and run into the street. If I do dishes the boys physically climb into the dishwasher.

That is my life. I'm not writing this to have you take pity on me, because I know that I'm not that different from any other parent. I understand that even though my life might be a little bit difficult because I can barely communicate with my 2.5 year old, it doesn't mean that other parents don't have it rough too, and they're having hard days too.

-------

But I vented to my bishop hard. I don't know why. He just asked me how it was going and it all came pouring out- I was honestly excited to talk to someone. Someone who wasn't related to me. Someone who wasn't going to talk about their own struggles, but he did. I'm so happy that he did.

He talked about one particular Sunday when his son was around Jax's age. His wife had laid out an outfit for him to wear, but that kid did NOT want to wear those pants. He said he struggled with him for 20 minutes until they were all sweaty and he was MAD at that point. Just put on the dang pants. His wife came up and told him to go off to church. He was sitting on the stand when his family walked in, his son wearing the pants he was supposed to, and he came running up to the stand- hugged his dad and told him he loved him.

He went on to talk about all of the Sundays when he had a white noise sound playing on his phone while he carried his baby around the halls of the church because she cried all through sacrament meeting.

But here this man was sitting on the stand every Sunday. His wife no longer having to yell at her kids to stay in the pew, his wife no longer having to walk around the halls trying to get their baby to sleep. His kids get themselves ready for church, strap themselves into the car, and sit in the pew all through sacrament meeting.

He struggled just like I am right now.

But it's a season.

--------

I try SO hard to not spend my time wishing that my kids were older. It's a waste of time, and it's really unfair. One day my kids will wake up on Sunday, put on their clothes, strap themselves into the car, and sit in the pew during church without wanting to frantically run away. One day I'll be able to take my kid to the doctors without them trying to open the door and run back into the car. One day I won't need snacks upon snacks just so that I can have 5 minutes of quiet time. One day I'll be able to take a shower in the morning while they're awake and making themselves breakfast.

But one day I'll wake up and my kids won't be in the house anymore. One will be on a mission, while one is off at college. One day I'll get a call about how one wants to propose to his girlfriend, and I'll get another call about how my other one is expecting a baby.

And you know what I'll want right then? You know what I'll BEG Heavenly Father for knowing full well that it's impossible? I will BEG for my boys to be little again. I will BEG to chase them around the church. I will BEG for the cuddles they give me when they're tired because they didn't nap. I will BEG for these days right here. I'll beg for the days that I hope go by fast. I'll beg for the days that I end up just crying because it's too much.

And it is. It's a lot. My kid isn't talking, but one day he will. My kids scream when I make them sit down in the pew at church, but one day they won't. My kids won't let me take a shower, but one day they'll be taking their own showers.

It's a season, and before I know it- we'll be in the next one.

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