what is my problem,anyway

I am wallowing. I need to stop. I can come up with all sorts of reasons my attitude is in the potty. All of them valid-to a degree.
I have more grief than I can share. The Rest of the World has written off Youngest. The Rest of the World cannot understand our persistence in trying to reach our son. Heck,the Rest of the World cannot even understand why we persist in calling him our son. The only person who truely understands is my husband and even he is not able to proccess any more than he already is. We add to each other’s pain when we talk about Youngest;so we try and keep such discussions to a minimum.
But the grief remains.
My three at home are good kids. They really and truely are. They have always brought more joy than any problems we incurred while raising them. That is why reality is hard to deal with. We want them to become independent thinking adults with all of the joys and pain that brings. Because of someone else’s choices,their brains were mis-wired before birth which makes becoming independent,thinking adults very,very difficult for them. Maybe even impossible. But they look normal. They superficially sound normal. They have made such strides,so many advances,have come so much farther than we were originally led to believe they would that it is hard to fathom they are stuck in early adolescence and late childhood.
how do we make peace with this? How do we respect them as adults,but still parent them as children? Can we? Should we? are we reacting appropriately to them where they are,or are we creating a self-fulfilling prophecy preventing further growth? Hard to tell. Impossible sometimes to tell.
Special needs parental angst.
Life style changes always bring anxiety. Even positive life changes,purposely chosen life changes bring anxiety. When those changes trend against popular culture the anxiety increases. Not that most of our choices haven’t trended against popular trends. The have and they do. Still, the neigh sayers have more power over my moods than I wish.
My life isn’t even all that sacrificial. Not when Christ is the example. When He is the example, I fall far,far short of any true sacrifice for others.
What I am doing is wallowing is self pity and middle aged angst. Angst was not attractive when I was sixteen. It is even less attractive at fifty.
I have five grandbabies who are more than reason to have put up with their parent’s shenanigans growing up.
Four of them are coming for two days tomorrow. The fifth was cleared from any chance of having cancer on Christmas Eve. (Although there is something going on,it isn’t life threatening). These are reasons to rejoice. No one loves you quite the way a grandchild does. I can honestly say their parents are doing a fine job raising them. They are loved and secure.
My life has rarely been boring. It has rarely been status quo. It isn’t about me anyway. That is what I am forgetting. My life is supposed to reflect Christ. Somehow wallowing is self pity and angst is not what I recall Christ spending his time doing. I need to remember that and get myself back in gear.
It is time to start fresh.
It is time to accept what is-and what isn’t.
It is time to move forward.
I need to listen to me.

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About lenell

Wife to a very patient man and mom to 8 interesting kids via birth,marriage and adoption. Grandma to nearly 5,nearly perfect grandchildren.
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One Response to what is my problem,anyway

  1. Jeanne Holt says:

    So glad to hear that your grandson has been cleared.

    Praying, sincerely, that your new year will bring true peace and joy.

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