And it all began with buttons...

Today has been a really tough parenting day.  Sad thing is, I was with Tristan for about 75 minutes in total today.  Ugh. See.... I'm learning more and more daily about Tristan - maybe it would be more appropriate to say - I get more confused on how to parent my... well, very particular child.

Tristan has never been a snuggly baby.  He has always and continues to only want affection on his terms. I on the other hand... I'm snuggly.  So over the years I have had to teach myself that it's not about ME and what I need... it's about what Tristan needs.  I get my cuddles at night and kisses at bedtime.  I play games and race to say who can love the other one more.  It's how I get MY needs met while hopefully meeting his.

As he got older, I realized... the child is VERY clear on what he does and doesn't like. He hates collars, he hates jeans and he DESPISES buttons.  Fine, so be it.  I adore jeans but who am I to say.  This really seemed all well and good... until of course, school picture day, Christmas, Easter... it's basically why you never, ever see him in "dress clothes" - I literally had to fake cry my eyes out two years ago on Halloween to get him to wear the Yankees uniform - no, NOT because it was a Yankees uniform but because it had ... (insert creepy music)... buttons. 

So, we have coped, nothing I buy him has buttons. He doesn't love (but can tolerate) zippers - it's the only way we survive winter.  Heck at Primrose they used to have to zipper his coat on backwards or he would rip it off regardless of how cold it was.  So, it's proven - he's making progress!


Next year at school he has to wear a uniform. (ugly too)

Lovely.  Buttons, buttons and more buttons.  Oh and happy day... there is a collar too.  yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah *SIGH*.  We've been taking him to Occupational Therapy for a few months.  He's loved it, he's loved Linda, he's done well.  Not really adjusting to buttons, but just adjusting.

One thing I noticed about 6 - 8 months ago was Tristan couldn't name any letter other than T.  Good one to start with I suppose.... but zilch.  I spoke to his teacher and she said she noticed if she asked him (while holding up a letter) what letter is this? He couldn't answer.  BUT, if she laid 5 letters down and said "show me the "A"" - he could.  So she "passed" him. I mean it's Pre-K 3...

It's hard for me.  I am VERY competitive.  I watch as my friends kids bust out letters, and heck one of them is reading.  Children younger than Tristan can make all of their sounds and they can write their names.  Tristan - cannot. I am very aware of how horrid I am/sound for judging my child.  Terrible, terrible thing to do... but I constantly second guess myself... and blame ME. Not him.. ME.  I don't by any means think he isn't smart, I think he is VERY smart and VERY witty... but should I be practicing with him, is he watching too much TV, is he in the right school, does he need help, is he just a "normal" 4 year old.... all of those things cross my mind.  Do we push more?  Do we just allow him to be little? I mean, I'm aware that he will know how to spell his name by the time he's 20.. I'm just... well... worried.

Fast forward a few months... he is slowly learning his letters but still struggles in a big way.  He is watching this Leap Frog Letter Factor video and it helps him. He loves it, learning his sounds and doing much better than before.  I remind myself it just takes time.

Fast forward to early Spring.  We signed T up for soccer with Cooper... his little BFF.  Purple Crush here we come!!  We go, he falls down, major - MAJOR ordeal for him. He won't practice.  Throws and absolute shit fit, all out war with Holt, then me, then Holt, kicking, screaming, ya know... typical 4 year old stuff.  We calm him down, we go home - all is fine after a chat, some kisses, we work it out.  He REFUSED to ever step foot on the soccer field again. EVER.  I mean he would go kick on the side field, but to play, no way.  I coaxed him out once, all was going well... promised ice cream after, the ref accidentally tripped him.  HE WAS TERRIFIED... bawling, freaking out.  he ran to us, we calmed him and took him home.  Never played again, refused.  HE LOVES SOCCER.  Wants to play in our back yard, plays indoor with his other buddy Grayson, loves it.  REFUSES to play outside. He tells me he ONLY wants to play if Grayson plays or he will ONLY play with me.

As luck would have it, Grayson wants to play on his T-Ball team and I told him I would coach.  There are 4 other kids in his class that want to play - hurraaaaay - he will know so many kids.  We go to practice, all is great, they run around - play... awesome.  We get to the game the next Sat... he sees his uniform.  Oh sweet Jesus... it has buttons.  I RIP the buttons off and tell him he can wear it now.  no way, no how... that puppy is scarred.  Refuses to play.  I take him and the shirt home, sew that stupid shirt up to look like a normal shirt.  We take it to Occupational Therapy and Linda (his counselor) takes it and talks to him about it.  He says, I know I have to wear that to baseball and Mommy fixed it.  Well, this past Saturday we get to baseball - no go.  he refuses to wear the shirt and refuses to play. 

ALL PARENTAL EYES are on me. 

Mike "What kind of Mom are you!?"

Wanda wonders "What have you done to that child!?"

Monica "MY child would NEVER do THAT"

Betty  "Why don't you beat his behind?"

Sadly... I have been all of those people.. looking over at some poor stressed out parent wondering why they can't control, fix or resolve the situation.  Shame on me.  It's not always behavioral - and even when it is... people are doing the best that they can.

I feel them judging me and trust me... I get the "huh, wonder what his deal is" by more than one mom (FRIENDS even).  Thank God Grayson's mom (Tracy) used to be an OT... she always makes me feel sane and normal... and she prays for me.  Can you see her halo?  mom of three.. jealous... because I don't think I could actually parent three.  I wish I could have.

After more and more talking with her... she reminds me not to PUSH, he has some sensory stuff that he's working through and we (nor he) know how to do that. It takes time.  It takes some help.

oh the hilarity of this photo... this was ANOTHER day he MELTED down.  K3 Circus

read here.

So, I inform T... there will be no donut after baseball because he didn't PLAY baseball and that was our agreement.  I put my screaming, kicking 4 year old into my car. I can feel my red face and I realize I have drinks for the kiddos that day... so now I have to open my door (with my screaming, kicking, crying child) and bring out the drinks.  Talk about the walk of shame. 

I realized in that moment though, I am not embarrassed OF or BY Tristan.  I am ashamed and sad that I don't know how to help him. I know he isn't TRYING to be this way.  Part of this IS that he is 4. He is little, he is tired.  Part of this is that my little guy has sensory issues and Mommy wants to fix that.  And can't.

Before you thank your lucky stars that you or your child don't have these issues... you may want to think again. On some level we ALL have "a thing".  I made the previous comment to the OT and said "yeah, my boss is totally OCD... he has to have all of his pens, paper, paperclips straight in his drawer, when I get mad at him, I shake the drawer and mess his stuff up when he's mean to me.  My BFF from home is OCD and has to touch all the corners of a table when she walks in a room. Done it for ever and no one really notices it... like our special little secret" - she said "Julie, we ALL have something, most of us just have something that doesn't interfere with our lives."  After talking to her, I realized that one of mine (I'm sure I have MANY) is that I shake my leg... a lot. 

Then, I realize....Holt will have to put his hand on my knee to get me to stop... then, I do. It's like when I'm REALLY listening... I have to move.  Odd, I know.  My thing.  Holt can't stand feet near his pillows.  His thing.  My sis-in-law... her food cannot touch... no way, no how. I have become SO aware of this with people now...I chuckle because we all learn to deal.  T... well, I'm just afraid I'm not doing enough to HELP HIM deal.  There is stuff out there that can help and I'll be dammed if I'm not going to do something about it.  Bought some books today... Holt and I are going back to discussing continuing OT...

Fast forward to tonight...we had indoor soccer.  Tristan has been playing since he was 2.  Same complex, same everything and he loves it.  Grayson and he had a little tiff over the ball and he LOST it.  Fell on the floor, screaming, crying, etc... So I brought him out, we hugged, talked all was fine but he just wanted to watch.  I could tell he was tired so I told him he could just sit and watch and cheer Grayson.  More was going on though,  he was SO sad.  Again, he was VERY tired... but again, I KNOW more was going on.  At 1/2 time, I told him to head on in or we would head home for dinner.  after every game they get this $.50 sticky ball and well, he wanted one and I said if you want to run out there and play for 5 minutes, then you can get one... but if you don't play, you don't get a sticky ball. Been the rule since day 1.  HE LOST IT. I mean swinging at me, screaming, throwing himself around my car, kicking me... it. was. awful.  Took everything in me not to spank his little white behind in that car.  I held it together... finally - and I mean after a full face of sweat and a wet sweaty back.. finally got him in his car seat.  He kicked and screamed, kicked and screamed.  I turned around and popped his leg.  ugh.  I have only spanked Tristan once and in that moment I was SO angry I knew spanking him would be wrong because I was in no place to control how ticked I was.  So I quietly told him to stop yelling, I turned up the music and let him scream the whole way home.  I left him in the car so he could come in on his own.  Made dinner.. he ate on his own. I ate on my own and I scoured the Internet for books to read to help my little boy (and me).  I did whatever it took NOT to cry but I shut down. I ran his bath he screamed "I'm NOT TAKING A BATH" so I walked out... 5 minutes later I hear him in there splashing around.  I go in, get him out, get jammies on... told him to go in his room "I'm NOT going to sleep"... I sat in my bed, praying, begging for answers. I saw a little head pop in, then out... not another peep. He was fast asleep in his room.

I know, I know... he was just tired.  Trust me, there is tired but then there is tired + stuff.  Then there is me. I withheld love from my sweet little boy because I was SO angry and hurt and confused and sad and tired and wanting to cry and rip my hair out and... and ... and!!

I don't pretend to know what to do. I don't know when to spank and when to use my words.  I don't know when to punish and when to talk... I don't know what he does and doesn't really get. I just don't know.  I feel like a terrible parent.  I send him to school and wonder, would I do better teaching him. Should I continue to send him to private school or does it even matter?  I wonder, does he not like to read because I don't like to read?  maybe he doesn't REALLY like sports.  I mean he can hit the heck out of any ball, runs like crazy, amazing at soccer but maybe he doesn't LIKE it... just because you have ability doesn't mean you have desire.  He eats veggies but does he also eat too much gluten?  Do I get him on a dye free diet?  Buy even MORE organic foods?  Should I fight him on his clothing choices or let him just wear t-shirts until school starts and then battle daily?  Is he just flat out spoiled or does he really not know how to deal?  Is he an introvert like me and not like crowds or is it just sensory stuff and needs more confined spaces? Is the brushing technique working or am I giving him a "dry scrub" daily for no reason?

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO?  No?  I didn't think so.

And here I was... sitting here thinking my biggest problem was jeans and buttons.  God help me - lead the way to leading this sweet, blue eyed, blond hair little angel that I can't live without.  I CANNOT do this on my own. 

Off to love on and pray over my little boy............ as my mom always tells me.. it is NEVER easy to be a parent and you will never, ever stop worrying. *Sigh* guess this is just part of it.

I love you more than you could ever imagine Tristan Holt Barber.  I am proud of who you are in this very moment and I want you to know that for every place I mess up... there is a really good intention behind my actions... sometimes I just choose badly.

Love you Nugg, Mommy