Some days parenting a child with special needs is difficult. Most days I can handle the 4th time she has spilled her cup. Most days I can handle her high sensory needs as she crumbles her food and drops it on the floor. Most days I can handle her impulsiveness and distraction. Most days I can handle her jumping into dirt/rocks and mashing herself into anything messy. Most days I can handle her extreme emotions. Most days I can handle her overstimulation. Most days I can handle her limited sense of danger and the fact that she needs constant supervision. Most days I can handle having to hold her hand for stability. Most days I can handle teaching her to play appropriately with her toys. Most days I can cheer her on and encourage her ride her bike. Most days I can handle that all our savings have gone to pay for therapy for Elizabeth and our home renovations have halted.
But I also have days where I hate what prematurity has done to Elizabeth and our family. Some days I can't handle cleaning up another spill. Some days I tell Elizabeth that at almost 4 years old she should stop and look for cars and begrudge not being able to take my eyes off her for a second. Some days I snap at her for digging herself into dirt and pebbles. Some days I roll my eyes when she breaks down in tears over something that is not important. Some days I hate that I have to stay with her for a class to keep her safe and encourage her to pay attention. Some days I just want her to go off and play and not have to worry about if she playing appropriately. Some days I want things to be easier. Some days I hate myself for snapping at her because it is not her fault that she does these things. Some days it is my fault that she is getting into things because I have not worked enough on her sensory/proprioceptive activities causing her to seek input. Some days I look at our unfinished home and want to scream. On most days I look longingly at other parents and wonder how it must be to not have to worry about how your child walks, talks, hears and plays. Some days I hate myself for feeling these angry thoughts. Some days as her mother I feel despaired, Elizabeth knows these days because she usually asks 'Mama are you happy?', I of course tell her I am so happy because I have her. We are so blessed to have her but some days it is a lot for me to handle.