Little Steps: Day 80 – Change is in the Air

I had my bimonthly therapy session yesterday.

Some days, I know exactly what issues I need to talk thru.

Others, I dont know where to start.

And on rare occasions, I walk with an extra pep in my step on my way in.

Floating a little on the confidence that I am doing alright. With no pressing issues I want to talk thru.

Or perhaps a topic I decided 3 minutes beforehand I wanted to throw out in to the universe and see what boomerangs back.

My therapist calls me back.

I sit down.

He asks how I am doing.

I tell him surface level emotions. I’m fine. I have done x,y,z this week. Blah blah blah. No depth will be had today!

And then we have the routine back and forth banter and proceed with surface level dialogue.

He says something.

And then a garbled word salad comes spewing out of my mouth. Half backwards. Partly incoherent.

Tears start welling.

Where. Did. That. Come. From?

We not only went below surface, but I went bungee jumping off a 100ft tall bridge and the cord snapped the second before I hit peak depth, causing me to free fall faster than the speed of light, breaking thru the surface of the water leaving zero trace, as my external body plummeted a thousand leagues below.

It is these rare days that can change a journey, bring light to the dark, shift thoughts, causing ripples that needed to be felt.

It is these rare days that cause you to stop in your tracks, making you go crazy as you scramble to figure out what the universe is trying to tell you.

And why.

What life lesson do I need to learn?

What life lesson is the universe telling me I need to pay close attention to?

I have learned along my journey to the summit, that things happen for a reason. That if I am experiencing something seismic that rattles my entire world, then maybe – just maybe – I should pay close attention.

Because maybe – just maybe – something is about to happen today, tomorrow, next week, that will change everything.

In one way or another, change is happening.

In one way or another, I need to open my eyes.

In one way or another, only I can decide how to respond.

E has been having some pretty awful days at school lately.

As in, throwing chairs, destroying other kids works, unshelving books, tipping over chairs, screaming, running off, blocking doors, standing on top of or underneath tables.

The list goes on.


Basically, if she did not have an IEP, and if that IEP did not include the verbiage that says she cannot be suspended, let’s just says she would most definitely be suspended. For the rest of the year.

It sucks.

It freaking sucks.

For all parties involved.

Especially her. And especially me. Because judgments will be had and comments on my parenting will be carelessly thrown about.

Last year, when she was in kindergarten, I developed PTSD from a couple of triggering events. One event that would trigger my PTSD, would be whenever my phone rang.

Then 1st grade started. It started off well. And then hit a wall. And then it evened out again.

Spring break came and went.

And now my PTSD is back in full force.

The phone rings. Restricted.

I have to answer. That means the principal is calling from his personal phone and is with E and is unable to get to a school phone.

Hi Mr. Principal.

She’s upset? Have you tried x,y,z?

Oh Ok. How about w?

Didnt work?

Let’s go back to A.

*on speaker now*

Hi E! It’s ok. Your brain is on overload. And that is ok. But we need to have a safe body.

She screams she wants to go home.

I know you do baby. School is hard. Your brain is tired. Your body is tired. Etc etc.

*5 minutes pass. I have failed this hostage negotiation.*

Mr. Principal let’s me know I am off speaker. We discuss next steps.

He hangs up.

He attempts the final steps.

90% of the time, my phone rings a little bit later.

Restricted. I subconsciously stop breathing. My body starts emitting sweat and tears.

I answer.

Mr. Principal let’s me know that A) things have escalated and she needs to be picked up or B) things seem to have quieted down.

Today, option A was the grand prize winner.

I can no longer have my mom pick her up. Last time she went – last week – she was in a tizzy which caused me to spin out of control, which led me to taking it out on the school. And in the end…my mom had half the facts, which caused me to have a quarter of the facts, which meant the school was blindsided.

So I have to leave work early. Yet again.

I let him know it is a 30 min drive. He sighs.

I rush to get to school.

I park in the same spot. I walk the same route. I enter the same door. I see her Speech Therapist waiting. I take a deep breath. I round the corner. I enter the principals office.

I cry.

Tears made a flying leap over the step where they well up and just went straight to crocodile tears, dousing the floor around me.

She is hurting. And I have no idea how to help her.


But then I remember that I just went bungee jumping off a 100ft bridge and ended 1000 leagues under the sea because the universe was telling me change was in the air.

You see, my therapist knew I was hurting. That I was tired. He didnt say anything, until my free fall ended in a crash landing at the bottom of the ocean, softened by rainbow coral full of sea anemones.

Our topic yesterday that snapped my bungee cord? It took 3 years but I finally had it all figured out. How to relieve meltdowns quickly. What her triggers were. And what she needed to keep her body and mind regulated.

If a school staff member needed help, I easily provided an reliable and vetted solution.

And I endured 6.5 years of people judging all of my parenting skills and not believing me when I say E is not neurotypical.

Every judgement led to another ounce of guilt, another pound of shame.

And I held it all in.

I figured her out! I got this. People can judge. And they will. Because we live this life. Not them.

And then 2 or 3 months ago, something switched in her. And everything I finally figured out after 3 years – we had to throw straight out the window of a plane as it was in a nose down spiral to the ground. The engines exploded. The yoke broke.

And I am back to feeling like this is my first day ever riding in an airplane and my mind just hit the freeze button.

I guess this is how it all ends. In a fiery ball of explosion.

E had a storm during her birthday party this weekend. I will spare you all of the details. But at one point, she was on the ground, banging her head in to the wall.

Something I had never seen.

I was on skates. I had no phone. I could not leave her. She would have run. I would have lost her. I could not get the attention of my family.

A group of teenage girls were sitting and staring and making fun of E. I told them to please knock it off.

My husband finally came. I had our friend go and grab him. He dragged E back to our table. With full resistance. But it was the only way. Her trying to get away. His hand locked on to her arm. This is our life.

Outsiders stare.

Yesterday, my therapist told me it was OK to let it go. That it was OK to not let the judgments of others hold me hostage.

Because I love my kids. I love E.

He told me it hurts worse, because I love E.

He reminded me, that I already know the answers. I just have to open myself to the answers.

Today, I realized that this is the change the universe is trying to show me.

How we move forward from today’s events, is going to change everything.

And it is up to me, to decide how we let this change affect our lives.

I don’t know what change is in the air. But I am welcoming it with open arms.

I know what I need to do. I know what we need to do.

And the first step is to let the judgments from people on the outside…go.

The second step, is to figure out how to survive the final 7 days of school.

The third step, is to look at my calendar and figure out how to run a mini homeschool experiment this summer.

The remaining steps….will be dedicated to bonding with my kids, collecting the puzzles pieces, and calmly stitching the pieces together, seeing how much this new puzzle has changed from the last.

I have long been a believer in things happening for a reason. A believer in fate. A believer in serendipity.

I walked to my therapists office yesterday with a last moment idea about discussing future career options I may be suited for.

I left his office yesterday, with the knowledge that I know the answers I seek.

I just need to acknowledge I am ready.

My summit this week, is seeing change. Understanding change. Being change.

P.s. here are some amazing pics of my kiddos. E turned 7 this week. This birthday also marked her 1st birthday living as her true self.

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