The 2 headed Monster

I’m not bi-polar or manic depressive… although sometimes I feel that way. 

Mothers – picture this.  You wake up.  Babies are sleeping, and you make yourself a nice big cup of coffee.   You sip it leisurely as you catch up on your blog reading list for the morning.  You smile and feel completely blessed as you hear a soft conversation come from the children's’ bedroom.  You let them out and….


Everyone starts screaming for something different for breakfast.  They speak to you like you are a maid, not a mother.  You are given demands as one pulls another’s hair.  They wonder over to your freshly folded laundry and rip the towels down off their pile.  They tell you they want to help.  They scream and wake your youngest baby up.  They throw food on the floor and your house is demolished in less than 5 minutes. 

Bye. Bye. Tranquil morning.  Hello nightmarish day.  Feel a little rollercoaster coming on?

That light switch is constantly being turned on and off in my world.

My friend came into my room today and saw this:


She is also my friend on Facebook and knows that I spent almost this entire weekend force feeding a child that didn’t want to eat and couldn’t handle the volume of calories necessary for growth and nutrition.  In fact, last night we did something we’ve never done… we used the “pump” during the day.


She looked at my letter to my students and said, “How did that work out for you?”  I said, “Great!”  …. silence … She said, “Really?”

She saw what many people don’t.  The public persona versus the private worrier.  The *switch* that can occur on a moment’s notice.  The 2 heads of special needs.  I switch between feeling blessed and feeling frustrated. 

This morning I felt frustrated. Hours of phone calls with no answers.  A disagreement between doctors and pharmacists and a distrust of things that are not shown/explained to me will do that.  I don’t blindly follow.  I want explanations.  There is a discrepancy between the medicine dosage the doctor prescribed and the dosage we’ve been getting.  It is somewhere between 7 times too much and 7 times too little.  And somewhere in the middle is what Alexander needs. (Frustrated)

During my planning period I walked down to see the twins as they finished Preschool.  *switch*  They were all smiles and giggles.  They reminded me of why I fight so hard for my children.  They made me laugh as they showed me their latest project. (Blessed)

Later this afternoon, I called home to check on Alexander’s day.  *switch*  He’s eaten absolutely nothing.  sigh.  What happened to my little boy who ate pancakes?  Where are you? Slipping in and out of the land of “oral?” (Frustrated)

I take another phone call.   *switch*  Alexander’s been accepted into a “preschool” program.  It will be one morning a week and is integrated with kids with special needs and kids without.  I’m thrilled that he will get all that stimulation.  (Blessed)

On the way home… the feeling of exhaustion sets in. *switch*  The antihistamines make me tired and I’ve spent the day smiling.  I find myself reflective… not happy or frustrated.

I take a few minutes to re-charge at home and *switch* The blessings flow back into my heart.  My husband is healthy.  My children are all home.  Alexander is well cared for by his nurse.  The kids are wound up and running wild.  All is right with the world.  (Blessed)


Are you getting the picture yet?  Sometimes it doesn’t happen as quickly… sometimes the *switch* happens from moment to moment.  I decided to lay it all out on the line because I believe I am not alone.  If you ever talk or read something written by someone impacted by special needs… look closely… find the *switch*
It might seem like they fluctuate.  I’m fairly good at hiding the frustrating moments, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have them.  I just wanted to put a voice to all those who *switch* as life leads them… not the other way around.

Once again, I’m pouring my heart out with Shell :