I’m like those athletes who claim they are retiring but just want a better contract or cannot handle actual real life so they keep going back to football or golf or reality television.
I am going to write even though those submissions people did not give me a fat contract. I will write here for you. For free. Or maybe I will write here for me. For free. so actually I’m not like Tom Brady.
This past week I was very busy vacationing. Being a granny is divinely delicious. And, I was mothering Mim. Thanksgiving holiday which I like to call Turkey Day was a lovely break from school and work…
I have been reading a lot about trauma informed parenting and Pathological Demand Avoidance to become more aware or more empathetic or a better equipped human to live with Mim. Neurodivergent- the whole idea of living with or educating a class of children who are not neurotypical is astonishing. Mind blowing. Beautiful and beautiful. The majesty of the brain. I can barely wrap my head around it. The balance required of the person who is neurodivergent and the balance required of the parent of the neurodivergent child in a world set up for neurotypical people is unsettling. I am like the tiny pieces of paper tags that Mim hides under her pillow for when the pica becomes intense- torn up.
Scenario 1. Mim at Thanksgiving- completely disregulated. Cussed multiple people instead of calling them by name. Stayed in the guest room king size bed under her favorite blanket. She was miserable. The food all looked different than a usual dinner. The people were everywhere. The baby was the star of the show. Multiple conversations happened simultaneously. She threw everything in the guest room- contents of suitcases, contents of shopping bags, dumped the new bubbles I bought to blow for baby Charlie and scribbled on some books. She slammed doors and repeatedly told me to get out. I paced between the dinner guests and the guest room. I ate my favorite cheese wafers and cocoons. Recipes below. I did not have turkey or casseroles but I didn’t want any. Mim came out of the guest room appearing on edge but attempting to join exactly when my sister counted off heads. 1. 2. 3. 1. 2. 3. 1. 2. 3. and etc. She announced all 1s go clean the kitchen for ten minutes. and then the 2s would take over for their ten minutes until the 3s wrapped things up. Could have been a good idea proposed by the mother of four teens and early twenties people. Mim was a 3. She cursed my sister and went back to the guest room while slamming and one punch to my left breast. Mim is left handed.
Keys- *she couldn’t regulate herself for a holiday meal *demands were placed and she went into flight or fight mode *she was confused by the counting off and thought this could be a complicated game which is one of her fears but instead it was a demand which is a non-negotiable for her *cleaning was not the problem- she hated the demand coming in a strange form from her aunt *what does it feel like to be in an extended family that is all white when you are not white? *what does it feel like to have a birth mom who is dead and a birth dad whose current whereabouts are unknown? *Mim got a text from her birth aunt and she was caught off guard by that but happy *trauma runs deep *she told multiple people that her dad is her ex-dad because he is with his girlfriend and her family *abandonment runs deep whether it is real or believed *Mim eats best in her bed while watching strange YouTube videos of people eating and chewing loudly although she hates if she hears someone at our dinner table chewing or a dog licking *since we ate at 3:00 she was probably over hungry and unable to want to eat *people who are neurodivergent have less ability to monitor the feelings of their own body such as hunger, thirst, fatigue *People who are neurodivergent like routines and predictability- Thanksgiving food and time of the meal was neither routine or predictable.
Solution- If judged by most sane people would look like spoiling, failure, horrible parenting, giving in, and worse than trash. I finally got her in the car which is usually a safe zone for the two of us. She calms down as we drive. I took her to the only place open- a Parker’s gas station. I insisted she sit in the car and I went in and bought her pistachios, Gatorade and Nutella with pretzels which are all things she usually has in her lunchbox for school. (If she had gone into the store, all the choices would have revved her up and that was too risky. Insisting that she stay in the car was risky too because it sounded like a demand and demands are not our friend.)We drove to the park on the water where the rest of the family was waiting for us. I was supposed to be taking my niece’s senior photos and any family photos at golden hour. Mim and I were late because I needed to drive until at least half a Gatorade and 10 bites of food were ingested. Mim went through her apology litany, we parked and caught up to everyone. The pink sky had just vanished. I took photos of family minus the dreamy light of sunset. Mim refused to get in the photos of my children. I chose not to care. I made her feel wanted and I begged a bit but I told her one of our mantras- she is in control of her body and if she doesn’t want to be in a photo, she doesn’t have to.
Momoirist 