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Now I need serious talking to about my easy child
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 642143" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>I'm sorry to be coming in late, MWM. Company at my house for the duration. Now having coffee and catching up. I am happy this turned out well for Jumper. </p><p></p><p>Maybe because I hadn't been involved at the beginning, your thread taught me something very good to know. I could feel the heart-to-heart of the way you feel about your child...and I realized those are the feelings, that is the intensity of feeling, normal moms feel. It is normal, perfectly acceptable, for us to feel as we do about our difficult children; it is what a mom who loves her children does. It is when the child is troubled that our normal concerns for our children turn into some endlessly turning treadmill of unremitting, inescapable escapades. </p><p></p><p>But we love them, just the same.</p><p></p><p>We hurt for them, just the same.</p><p></p><p>We are normal.</p><p></p><p>I am normal.</p><p></p><p>I have been in such pain, for so long, that I sometimes feel like there must be something wrong with me. Why I cannot turn away without feeling guilty that I haven't helped, or haven't helped enough, why I never seem able to think about my kids with the same bright pleasure I see in their faces when other moms think about their kids...sometimes, I wonder what is wrong with <em>me. </em>It seems there must be something the matter with <em>my </em>brain.</p><p></p><p>But that isn't true.</p><p></p><p>Just as you mother Jumper, so we all are mothering our children, difficult child or not, too.</p><p></p><p>It is so important for us to remember that. I forget sometimes, and that is when I blame myself for what has happened, or for not being able to see, in the family husband and I created, anything that looks like even like the ghost of normal. My children and grands are scattered all over the country. Literally, there is no way I could afford to bring them all home for Christmas. It's been something like six years since the faces around my table at Christmas have been the faces of those who look like me, of those who have that special feel of family.</p><p></p><p>I learned last week that one of my grandchildren is five feet tall, already. </p><p></p><p>It was like a dagger in my heart, to mark the past two years in that unrecoverable, time forever lost way.</p><p></p><p>So this was such a nice thread for me to read.</p><p></p><p>I am so happy everything turned out well for Jumper. I remember her break up with this boy.</p><p>I like it that she does not run away from things.</p><p></p><p>I love the way your love your kids.</p><p></p><p>Reading stories like this one about Jumper highlight how truly rotten it is to parent difficult child children. Our hearts truly are in our mouths, our mother love is right there, out in the open for every child...but our difficult children invariably choose the wrong path and break our hearts and over time, our spirits.</p><p></p><p>It is easy to forget that, sometimes. We really do have a hard road. If I look at it this way, I am strong, courageous even, in the face of something so awful that is happening, that is still happening, to my child, whatever her age.</p><p></p><p>How awful to add guilt because it hurts me, or to pile on a serving of self judgment to the living horror of what has already happened, of everything that's already been lost.</p><p></p><p>There is a photographer on Facebook: Humans of New York. I think that is where I saw this. Anyway, there is a one hundred year old woman interviewed. Some children and her husband are long dead. She says: "That's alright. He was a good husband. He's gone, now. But he was a good husband and we were happy."</p><p></p><p>Something like that.</p><p> </p><p>That interview made quite an impression on me.</p><p></p><p>What we do here ~ raising and loving and sometimes, losing, such intensely troubled human beings ~ is an astronomically pain filled thing.</p><p></p><p>But look at us, making it.</p><p></p><p>Loving them, learning again to love ourselves, to give ourselves full credit for what it is to do what we do.</p><p></p><p>We are amazing mothers, amazing fathers.</p><p></p><p>We need never to forget that.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 642143, member: 17461"] I'm sorry to be coming in late, MWM. Company at my house for the duration. Now having coffee and catching up. I am happy this turned out well for Jumper. Maybe because I hadn't been involved at the beginning, your thread taught me something very good to know. I could feel the heart-to-heart of the way you feel about your child...and I realized those are the feelings, that is the intensity of feeling, normal moms feel. It is normal, perfectly acceptable, for us to feel as we do about our difficult children; it is what a mom who loves her children does. It is when the child is troubled that our normal concerns for our children turn into some endlessly turning treadmill of unremitting, inescapable escapades. But we love them, just the same. We hurt for them, just the same. We are normal. I am normal. I have been in such pain, for so long, that I sometimes feel like there must be something wrong with me. Why I cannot turn away without feeling guilty that I haven't helped, or haven't helped enough, why I never seem able to think about my kids with the same bright pleasure I see in their faces when other moms think about their kids...sometimes, I wonder what is wrong with [I]me. [/I]It seems there must be something the matter with [I]my [/I]brain. But that isn't true. Just as you mother Jumper, so we all are mothering our children, difficult child or not, too. It is so important for us to remember that. I forget sometimes, and that is when I blame myself for what has happened, or for not being able to see, in the family husband and I created, anything that looks like even like the ghost of normal. My children and grands are scattered all over the country. Literally, there is no way I could afford to bring them all home for Christmas. It's been something like six years since the faces around my table at Christmas have been the faces of those who look like me, of those who have that special feel of family. I learned last week that one of my grandchildren is five feet tall, already. It was like a dagger in my heart, to mark the past two years in that unrecoverable, time forever lost way. So this was such a nice thread for me to read. I am so happy everything turned out well for Jumper. I remember her break up with this boy. I like it that she does not run away from things. I love the way your love your kids. Reading stories like this one about Jumper highlight how truly rotten it is to parent difficult child children. Our hearts truly are in our mouths, our mother love is right there, out in the open for every child...but our difficult children invariably choose the wrong path and break our hearts and over time, our spirits. It is easy to forget that, sometimes. We really do have a hard road. If I look at it this way, I am strong, courageous even, in the face of something so awful that is happening, that is still happening, to my child, whatever her age. How awful to add guilt because it hurts me, or to pile on a serving of self judgment to the living horror of what has already happened, of everything that's already been lost. There is a photographer on Facebook: Humans of New York. I think that is where I saw this. Anyway, there is a one hundred year old woman interviewed. Some children and her husband are long dead. She says: "That's alright. He was a good husband. He's gone, now. But he was a good husband and we were happy." Something like that. That interview made quite an impression on me. What we do here ~ raising and loving and sometimes, losing, such intensely troubled human beings ~ is an astronomically pain filled thing. But look at us, making it. Loving them, learning again to love ourselves, to give ourselves full credit for what it is to do what we do. We are amazing mothers, amazing fathers. We need never to forget that. Cedar . [/QUOTE]
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