Little Battles.

There are things that I question about myself. Mostly my sanity. Also my devotion as a mother while I work one full time job and branch out into other hobbies that seem to over take me... photography and writing.

But I feel there are little battles to be won and with each one I lose sleep in my excitement... which is why my husband is out of town and I have work in the morning, while I clean up photos from a weekend location search to take mini-sessions of holiday photos for my friends and feel positively thrilled to have had such an amazing day with the kids... Colin helped me put the laundry from the washing machine into the dryer, Claire taught the boys how to clean up an entire room when they were done with their toys and Adam came home a different person after spending his second full day at his new school, the Montessori, which revived him. He picked up the twins' art work when I had forgotten (two scarecrows made of construction paper on paper plates), and positively RAVED about how impressed he was, and proud of them, and how well they did at school. When I told him what a great big brother he was, he told me "no, they are amazing."

Incredible. My three year old speaks more positively and encouragingly than most of the adults I associate myself with on a daily basis.

But that is also why I'm wondering why I'm still up and writing this post when I have work in the morning, and the kids will surely be up by 6am. It's a good thing there's three 12 oz. Red Bulls in the fridge just waiting for me.

Adam had been having trouble in school, as I had mentioned. He was in a good school, with good teachers, good facilities and a progressive curriculum for 3-4 year olds. He was the youngest in the class but was still struggling with being bored... but also with the amount of stimulation, movement, excitement, yelling... and we moved him to a Montessori, hoping that his age wouldn't restrict him from what he was able to learn and that the ability to drive himself would be the best motivator of all. We also needed a place that was calm. Purposeful. Guiding and Kind. It's Day Two. He couldn't sleep tonight because he was so excited to go back tomorrow.

There are many things about the twins that I am anxious to share, but for Adam, I want to celebrate a victory. Adam is loving, positive, ambitious, independent, kind, intelligent and observant, among many things. He has always seen the world differently than others, in a positive way. I admire him. His emergence into this world made me feel less small... less powerless... less insignificant. He came in knowing he had force and was going to use it to be a leader. I decided to follow his lead.

But that doesn't mean that he is always content. Or easy. Or fearless. He struggles with anxiety, chips away at the edges when he knows he can play the "game" and get his way... some people call that manipulation. It is, but it's also a game to him, not some malevolent ruse to accomplish whatever he wants at whatever cost. He needs the stimulation to keep his mind moving, and is devistated when he goes too far, for in the core of him, he wants us all to be pleased.

He came home from school today absolutely... balanced. Ignited. Forward thinking and creative. But most of all, pleased with himself. Stimulated to the point of perfect contentment and ready to have conversations that could go somewhere. Validated in his intelligence... and also not so overstimulated so much by colors, noise and crowding that he was just done with all human interaction and wanted to be left alone. I can imagine the struggle of being under stimulated so much that you crave something interesting to think about... but so overstimulated that you don't want someone to talk to you.

I counted at least 15 new vocabulary words just in the 2 hours after bringing him home. His ability to express himself matured by at least a year. He told me a story today about how he really wanted to play castles and trains with two boys, and tried to join them. It is not rare for Adam to be social, but to join classmates willingly is a new territory with him. But when he joined them, they told him no. The teacher told him "only two." I asked if he was sad about that, and he said yes. I told him I was sorry. I felt so sad for him.

He rubbed my arm. "It's not your fault, Mommy. It was my fault."

As the story progressed, he got to play castles and trains a little bit later on. His maturity astounds me.

He asked me about my day. I told him I said good-bye to him, said good-bye to Daddy before he went to Florida for work, dropped off the twins at their school and then went to work, where I talked to people, had meetings, went to the grocery store at lunch for milk and bananas and then took it back home. Then went back to work and had more meetings, and typed on my computer and came back to pick him up.

"I'm so proud of you, Mommy!"

He sat calmly at dinner and laughed with the twins, asked me questions and fed Caley without any help, said "please," "thank you," and "I love you so much," which are not rare at all... but are usually said in between massive meltdowns and frustration and testing of boundaries. I would not say that those things are over, but the truth of the matter is, he got what he needed, finally, today. And that to me is worth celebrating.

Adam is not a difficult child, to me. I get him. I follow his logic. But that doesn't mean we don't struggle daily to get what we both need out of each other, or that I am a perfect parent to him. Today, even solo, I felt like I had a "win," but the truth is, it was his success. We finally got him into a place, today, that made him superiorly happy. It was his victory.

Smile, Mommy. "Click."

 

Pretending. Or mad that I wanted to take a picture in that spot.

He reminds me that we're only as small and powerless as we feel.

 

They all woke up today very early, anxious to get out the door, so to kill time we tried to take them to breakfast. The twins had already eaten their bananas (someone hang us if we don't have milk or bananas in the house... we literally go through a gallon of milk a day), but Adam has never turned down a donut before.

We pulled up at the best donut store in town, and he said... "I don't want donuts! I want to go to school!" We were speechless.

Whether or not this happens on a daily basis or not, I'm not sure it matters. For now we conquered one of life's little battles... and we're always making progress.