begonias and the little agonies

sunshine and little buds and flowers are everywhere and i'm feeling lucky. i'm feeling blessed.  because last year-this season was so bad. so hard. so dark, even in it's springness.  an old friend is in a dark dark place today- with her little child who is suffering.  he has similar challenges to zoe in some ways- but right now his are eating him up-and his family- who suffers along with him.  i've not been down their exact path- but i know that place of hopelessness and fear- where they have been living for months- that place of utter exhaustion and confusion and guilt and anger.  the crawling to Jesus.  i remember so well.  and i will be back to that place many times again i'm sure- because life brings us all there at some point or another, especially those with special kids.

when i first started "being home" i had all sorts of expectations for myself.  to suddenly jump into the ultimate mommy role.  part of this was genuinely soul felt and desired, and part was a type A personality thing.  i remember last june in the evening, after a really long and hard day with zoe, i had decided to lug the three kids to the market to buy food for dinner and the appropriate makings for “rainbow cake” which i’d convinced myself i needed to do as a project to be a good stay at home happy mom (inspired by meg duerksen :).  and i needed some white wine- for sanity.  the boys were in the cart – the special spaceship cart with steering wheels- and i had a list- and zoe had her mind calling to her over and over.  she was just in that sticky place of no return.  overwhelmed by the amount of stuff, the background noises, she couldn't stop asking for everything, and i mean everything in site, and in a very panicked voice.  at first i got annoyed.  then i ran into a neighbor and remembered my manors and calmed down.  i  managed to get through fruits and vegetables and the bakery with only an extra avocado and some peaches.  (she doesn't even like avocados!) in the flower section- zoe presented  me with an 18$ small bamboo plant with a dangling mini-disco ball and a dead teacup arrangement for 8$.  i had myself together, ooed and ahhed over them and explained while she had great taste :), we didn’t need any plants.  next came the large lily plant- again, complements but please put it back-
"daddy hates lilies"
" why?"
"they smell like funerals."

 then came the sunflowers- i could feel my blood pressure rise- really- i now believe you can feel that depite my medical trainings belief otherwise.  finally, i saw some begonias for $3.99.

“ zoë ", i said, “ you may pick out one of those begonias in any color and we can get that”. 

on one hand feeling relief that we’d satisfied some unquenchable idea, but also let down that i’d given in and
we still hadn’t gotten to the part of the supermarket with aisles!  with begonia in tow, she wanted CapriSun juice boxes, (we have apple ones from Trader Joes at home).  then some random Mexican sauce- (she doesn’t like Mexican food).  each time i said no was met by a dramatic exclamation of how unfair it all was and how i was mean and then followed by many whinny "but why???'s" 

 then we approached the dreaded cereal aisle- which i’m convinced is put there to test all parents with children under 18.

"no you can’t get cookie crips, or frosted flakes, or lucky charms or sugar smacks or anything else that is not on the list!!!!!!"

 i had had it.  seriously, i wanted to rip that begonia out of her sweaty little hands and wring her neck!  she knew i was mad. she held the begonia up and literally hid behind it in the wine aisle – i’m sure a sure sign of likely parental misconduct- especially in the alcohol section. 

 finally we arrived at the fish counter.  i was trying to buy tilapia when she noticed the lobsters in the tank. 

“excuse me sir? are these lobsters happy or mad?”  oh here it comes...

 “well, probably mad, because they’d rather be in the ocean.” 

“ well then I think you are a mean man- a mean, mean man! keeping these lobsters in this tank!”  she shouted.  people were now staring.

anger was now replaced by that shame.  that embarrassment.  

it was 95 degrees outside- 110 inside me. we drove home and i put on Noggin- crack for kids- had a glass of wine and made dinner.  i allowed myself to feel deeply sorry for myself – when no one was looking except the dog. her obsessiveness was worsening. her sticky thoughts were overtaking her.  it seemed that everywhere we went - she couldn't handle it.  and i couldn't handle her.

after dinner and clean up and bath time and bed time and much help from Mike,  i sat outside on the phone with one of my best girlfriends and the warm evening hugged me. she reminded me of who i am, of who zoe is, with her differently wired brain, she acknowledged the struggle, and she forgave me. i was at peace- even in this day, even with this girl, even with myself- who i can never escape from.  

zoe came outside after her shower, she said she was sorry, she said perhaps if i sing to her in the market to remind her to not ask for things it would help.  i forgave her.  i asked her to forgive me for forgetting, and yelling, and not understanding her.  it’s OK mommy, and she sang her favorite Billy Bragg song, “at the top of the stairs the lights on..” 

this is Life.   beautiful begonias beside the little agonies.