Saturday was a good day.
The heat wasn’t quite so all encompassing and overwhelming. It rained….a lot. I had a friend in town and we had lunch and then got to go see a movie.
But that isn’t why I am saying it was good.
Matthew had a good day. All day. He has been home for 9 months, and Saturday was the first day that was good from beginning to end.
You know how when the power goes out in the summertime and suddenly your AC turns off and the compressor outside shuts down and everything is so very quiet? You didn’t realize how noisy everything around you was until it all stopped? It was kind of like that.
I know things around here are better than they were when Matthew first came home, however, we haven’t reached a consistently good place. I guess I didn’t realize how far we were from GOOD. From PEACEFUL. From not walking around as if your own home is full of landmines…..until we had a really good day. A tantrum-free day. A day where he tells me okay when I say it’s time for lunch. A day that I continuously brace myself emotionally and physically for battles that do not occur. You know, a good day.
I don’t want to make it sound like we have been wallowing in complete misery for 9 months (although all of us, for many different reasons, DID wallow in misery for the first couple of months). We go along every day doing fine for the most part, and to the outside world, it looks like some typical 3-year old antics and normal family dynamics. But we know better, and we know the wounds and the hurts and the insecurities and the control issues that we are facing. There is continuous improvement. And we have had good times, happy times, lots of fun. But those times are always tempered by the hard times. And, of course, I know that his mix of emotions and reactions is valid and to be expected. But to all of the people who say to me, it has only been nine months….., I would like to scream back with every fiber of my being, IT HAS BEEN NINE MONTHS!!!!!
The bad news is that he has been home 9 months and we have had one really good day. The bad news is that for 2 solid days after that day, he defied me on each and every thing that came out of my mouth. The bad news is that he didn’t get a book before naptime today because he hit me….because a train fell off the table and he was having trouble processing exactly what to do about that.
The good news is that he had a good day. A really good day, and it gave me a glimpse. A glimpse of how life might be. WILL BE….one day. A day when I don’t grind my teeth, swallow my anger, lose my patience, tiptoe into his room wondering how he will greet me, and when the emotional barometer of our entire family doesn’t depend on his mood. A day when I simply take joy in being his mother. I know we will get there one day, and THAT will be a great day.