WG must know something that I don't know about myself. Because at one point in the middle of Sissy's 9 hour standoff (she's currently outside finishing the task it got too dark for her to finish yesterday - and refusing - and getting more disciplines - ad infinitum, ad nauseum, ibid.) I flopped down on the sofa and picked up the quilting (in point, so I could be doing something while I surreptitiously spied on Sissy out the back door to be sure she didn't beat on Grace again) I discovered WG. In true WG fashion, she had spread out a cache of her belongings on the area rug in the living room. She was diligently doing stuff. You know, 6 year old stuff. Engaging herself in a blissful world of imagination with stuffed lions, markers and notebooks. Seriously, this kid is amazing and truth be told, she's just an ordinary, every day kid. Not a genius, not a whiz, not a savant, just plain old WG and that in and of itself makes her amazing.
Seeing me on the sofa, she got up and brought me the notebook and says, "hey mom, listen to this, I wrote a poem!" and she proceeded to sing to a fabricated tune, the following verses:
Love By WG to Mom
I love you.
I like me.
I like you.
I like me.
I love you.
I like you in my family.
I love you.
I like me.
I love you so much.
My readership is up. By about 50%. Is it because people are angry that I'm being honest and they want to see just how far I'll go, if my parenting is abusive so they can report me? Or is because I'm being honest in a way that so many other parents are afraid to be honest, that my readers have BTDT and like me, have met the end of their rope with their traumatized children and then what? It's the end of the rope. Where do you go from there? What do you DO?!?
Not everyone I blog with or who reads my blog has a WG that writes love poems. Instead of farming out Sissy to other homes, maybe I should farm out WG so she can be a light for other anguished moms of traumatized RADishes. Maybe WG should come to Orlando with me. She could use the respite too. Because after all, she's the kid sister that isn't getting any love from her big sister.
Sissy got in the van this morning as we went on our way to church and antagonized and lied and manipulated and pestered us the whole way because she saw WG rub her feet on the back of the seat so Sissy just had to do it too, only Sissy outweighs WG by 100% and shook the whole van at the traffic light. I said, "stop shaking the van Sissy" and she said, "It was WG!" and somewhere in that argument about who did what and blaming everyone but herself Sissy said, "And anyway, how could I have shook the van just by rubbing my feet on a seat?!" AAAUUGGHH!!!!
Then as icing on the cake, just as we turned into the parking lot said, "Dad, when are you going to give me back my yo-yo?" Every fiber of my being wanted to jump out of the moving vehicle because the thoughts in my mind were inappropriate and I was afraid of my response. Instead I slinked down and buried my head in my hands.
Seriously? SERIOUSLY?! She wants her YO-YO!?!? And we should give it to her because ... why? Because she has blitzed our brains, our compassion, our empathy, our understanding, our love, our patience and our good nature and given NOTHING to us in return except more grief and headache, tears and frustration? Yeah. Yup. Absolutely. Give the kid her gosh dern yo-yo back. Please. If it means she'll leave us alone, give it to her.
Yes, Christ loves us unconditionally, yes, His blood covers our sins. BUT ... He gives us free will, He says it's our CHOICE to do his commandments. And although Christ asks us to do as He would, to love in like kind, NEVER does it say we have to do it to perfection. We are just to have an attitude and a desire to pursue His higher ways. That's all He asks us of. Point of fact, that's all I'm asking of Sissy. It does not mean I'm not loving her, that I'm withholding grace and mercy, that I'm constipated in my emotion toward her just as she is physically and emotionally constipated, refusing to let go and let God.
So if my readership is up because it's voyeuristic and you're hoping I'll fail, guess what? I already have. Parenting severely traumatized children in a home environment and expecting them to understand and embrace unconditional love of Christ and humans is a set up for failure. I hereby absolve myself of guilt, wrong doing and my imperfection and inability to bestow compassion, grace, mercy and unconditional love on my traumatized, mentally and emotionally impaired daughter EXACTLY as Christ does. Because He's not expecting that from me. He only wants a heart turned toward Him. He's asking for Love poems. He wants me to be glad that I am part of His family. He wants me to like and love myself because He likes and loves me. And I do. Every.Single.Moment.Of.Every.Day.
Once again, Wonder Girl knows something that I didn't know about myself. Thank you God for the WG's of the world. Thank you God that I'm a WG. Thank you God for all the other WG RAD mommies whose hearts are breaking today and every day we try to love our children according to your will. Thank you God for knowing our hearts and giving us new mercies and grace just as you ask us to give it to our ill babies. Thank you God for reminding the WGs on this planet that you will return the years the locusts have eaten and that our rewards will be many. Thank you God for helping WG mommies keep their sanity when even the therapists and psychiatrists are grasping at straws but mental health says these children need to be in home environments. But mostly, thank you God for loving this WG RAD mommy just as I am.