I wasn't going to publish this until tomorrow, but I'm awake and tomorrow may go to Hades in a handbasket, so.....
.....the return of the nuclear meltdown......sigh.......
It happened over our old nemesis, spelling. Those of you who have been with us for the long haul probably remember many a meltdown over this particular topic. TK has never been, and still is not, a good speller. It may be due to dysgraphia, or maybe her birth parents were missing the spelling gene, but whatever the reason, her spelling is A-B-Y-S-M-A-L. I can flit about unconcerned about this for a while, then we start talking about "regular" (i.e., public) middle school and something in me freaks envisioning the papers that look like a mass murder occurred on them with all the red ink. Yes, the enemy of handling trauma - FEAR! What if my kid flunks middle school? What if everyone makes fun of her because she can't spell? What if she feels like a failure and my years of tears and anguish and trauma healing are undone? How will she get into college?
Yep, F-E-A-R. Everytime I let it run my brain I send TK off the deep end. So yeah, the nuclear meltdown - totally my fault. (But seriously, it is JUST a spelling list!)
To recap the fun that was (not) had in the trauma house tonight....
TK is now playing volleyball, so for every two words she gets correct she gets to do two serves. (I can't go on the trampoline right now because of a post-concussion issue, which is causing no small amount of stress because "I can only do spelling on the trampoline, Mom!") But I digress, as usual.
TK does a few warm up serves. One bounces off the garage into the rosebush and TK freaks that her new volleyball may be losing air from the thorns. I tell her it's fine and call out the first word. TK (who spelled it perfectly yesterday), blithely says, "I don't know and I don't care." Well, if you want to get this Trauma Mama fired up, "I don't care" is the best firestarter in town. I handed her the paper and walked inside. Of course she followed me, screaming, "I want to do spelling!! Just tell me how to spell it!!" I told her I wasn't going to participate if she wasn't going to even try and kept walking. She ran in past me, shredded her list and yelled, "So who cares if I can't spell! I'll just be stupid forever and you can be embarrassed by me. I'll just watch TV all day and get fat. Is that what you want?" This was followed by a slammed bedroom door and hysterical sobbing.
No, I did NOT take the high road. I just didn't want to (welcome to the real world of trauma parenting). I continued making the cake I had started and counted to about 17 zillion in my head. Somewhere about 16 zillion I chilled out, but I still had no desire to go in TK's room. I had a long talk with myself and finally relented and took that *%& high road. I went into TK's room, totally faking it (but hey, give me credit for trying). I told her even if she got fat I would still love her (addressing her non sequitir seemed the safest starting place). She told me she felt like I was saying she was lazy because I said she wouldn't even try. I apologized for making her feel that way. (Luckily my years of trauma mama'ing kicked in automatically, because my rational brain was still annoyed about the spelling thing. Thank goodness for trauma mama muscle memory!) After a few (okay, 40) minutes we were smiling and she was telling me about the book she was reading.
In some ways I had forgotten how exhausting it was to tamp down your own frustration and anger and be in that trauma moment with your TK. And I am so grateful that I have been allowed to forget that, even if only temporarily. There was a really long stretch where I could not forget because I was doing it every day.
The biggest grace in all this.....after talking, my sweet TK says, very softly, "I'm really sorry, Mom. It's just too much for me. Can we talk about how to solve it tomorrow?"
Grab the grace when your TK tosses it your way, Trauma Mamas. Savor it and keep it tucked in your heart for those days when you "just don't want to." It's okay to not want to, and it's okay to "just not" sometimes. Give yourselves the grace of a pass sometimes. Know you are always being the best Trauma Mama you can. Some days you'll be world class, some days.....not so much. But you are healing your TK every day, even on the not good ones, because your love never wavers.
Be strong, Trauma Mamas.
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