Finding meaning and creation through cancer, adoption, and a series of seemingly unconnected strings of life events.

I feel lighter and heavier all at once. In one moment, I am singing in my car. In the next, my mind jets to laying on the living room floor watching my baby breathe. Then to the day before when objects and insults were thrown at me from across the room by the baby who now stands several inches taller than me. And I fall apart. I do not understand how we got from point A to point B. 

I am an intentional parent. It would take you about 30 seconds to figure that out about me. All that trauma and fighting for my life stuff sure makes you take things seriously, especially a task like raising a child someone entrusts to you.

When the books, experts, and articles said don’t cave in to tantrums – I didn’t. When my child wailed and screamed and threw things, I met him emotionally, but did not give him what he wanted. Ever. So why did the behavior continue?  

We are in week one of our family transformation (that terminology sounds more promising than therapy intervention). We have changed very little, but the reactions have been enormous. Simply changing our words to observation from reaction elicited verbal attacks and compliance issues. Shifting our demeanors to intentionally happy caused rages and outbursts.

In an instant, the level of intensity in our home shifted back to where we were four years ago– all because of a shift in perspective and attitude. And I’ve realized the difference between four years ago and now may not have been his progress at all.

Reality can be found in reflection. And through the years, while we had not given into his moods and behaviors, we have doubled down on our efforts to prevent them through accommodations.

Instead of letting him be disappointed in not getting to do something, we had an alternative plan ready to go. Rather than deal with him losing tv for behavior, we gave him the opportunity to earn it back through easy chores. If we knew he wouldn’t like what was served for dinner, another meal was often prepared and waiting.

It was preventative defense. It was survival. And for that, I’m choosing to give myself grace. But in the end, the real world will not be standing at the ready with a hug, a plate of chicken nuggets, and an alternative option for avoiding something you don’t like.

Our priest recently spoke of the common encouragement often offered to children: You are capable of anything. The phrase is meant to be motivational, but the reality is deeper. We ARE capable of anything – good or bad.

Giving my son the choice to choose which capable he will go for and letting him live with the consequences is one of the best gifts I can offer him right now. It’s one of the best gifts I can offer myself and my family too. That doesn’t make it less heavy, but it does shift the burden back to where it should have laid all along.

Our home environment is not harsh. It is a loving home with the small expectation that we treat each other with kindness. Our children want for nothing. To find this environment inhospitable points to a deeply flawed view of reality. And while I will do everything in my power to support my son as he struggles to correct this mindset, I will no longer live as a prisoner of it. That makes this journey to transforming our family life feel oh so much lighter.