Elias scratched Olive above her eye tonight. And pulled her hair. All over whose turn it was to do the USA puzzle next. He just grabbed her face with his almost-man hands, with me only a few feet away sitting alongside them on the floor. I had to grab my son and pull him off her, and then scoop up my crying little girl.
“I’m scared Mommy!”
“I know sweetie, I know.”
Me too.
What if I wasn’t right there? What if he actually got one of his nails in her eye instead of above it? What if...?
Oh these questions could kill me.
Kill. Me.
I walked Olive away from Elias, to her room. I sat down on her bed, her legs straddling my waist as our noses almost touched. “You know Olive, your brother loves you. I’m sorry he doesn’t always use his words and that he sometimes hurts you.”
“Whats this?” Olive grabbed the chord to my Taft sweatshirt and put it in her mouth. She leaned back, pulling it further out one side, already moving on.
Over it.
This is her life. The younger sister of an unpredictably aggressive brother. A big brother who plays near her one moment and hurts her the next. And because it's all she knows, she is less fazed by it than I am.
Or so it seems.
“I wish I didn’t do that,” Elias said to his Dad when they discussed what happened. And this time, I believe him. I believe he felt a tinge of remorse and he wasn’t saying this just because his puzzle was now out of reach.
When I walked out with Olive, I asked him if he had anything to say. He leaned against me and put his arms around my neck. “Sorry Mom.”
“Bud, its OK to be angry with your sister. You can be frustrated and mad. But Elias, look at your hands.” I hold his hands in mine and he looks down. “They are strong. And when you use them to grab or squeeze or hit it hurts. I know you may not think it hurts but it does.” He leans into me again. “Who do you think you need to say sorry to?”
Olive has been standing behind my back, and she steps forward on cue. She looks right at her brother with a look that says I know I've been wronged and I'm waiting for you to make it right. Elias looks up from the ground, “I’m sorry Olive.”
Me too. And if I could shield you, Sweetie, I would.
But the sweet irony of parenthood, is being utterly responsible for beings that are completely beyond your control.
Very challenging but I am still clinging to the progress here. Seems to me he wasn't showing this kind of remorse and insight until just recently. Even if its glacial its still forward! Hang in there and keep on writing it out! Maybe hockey season soon too?
Posted by: Kate | 01/08/2013 at 05:01 AM
Karen, thank you, your work experience gives me hope that you might just be right. That someday we will look back and remember the days when he was a grabbing squeezing threat to his sister.
Kate, yes, he is making progress and I see it too. There are times when they play well together and I can leave them alone in a room for a second without sheer terror at what may happen. After this incident Elias started to use his hands to try to get her to do something but pulled them back and used his words. I was right there to praise him like crazy. And hockey has started up again, I have a double-header on Sunday night so I know I'll have some extra frustration to fuel me even faster towards the net. Thanks!
Posted by: Christy | 01/08/2013 at 07:14 AM
Christy,
I just wanted to tell you what a good job I think you and Nick are doing with Elias and Olive. I can only imagine how difficult managing their needs and wants must be, but you do it, day in and day out! Parenting, in general, can be a thankless job, and with a special boy like Elias that's probably even more true. I am grateful that you share your joys and challenges here - I always enjoy reading your posts and they give me lots to think about in my own parenting style (I have a 12-year-old girl and an 18-month-old boy). So I just want to say, "Keep up the great work!" And thank you.
Posted by: Kristen H | 01/08/2013 at 03:55 PM
Remember what delays mean. My daughter is 16 now and a lot of her skills (her academic skills are all below grade 2) are way below her age. If you think of him as a preschooler and adjust your expectations accordingly that might help? And even NT siblings hurt each other both by accident and on purpose. My 20 and 23 year old sons still wrestle very hard occasionally leaving bruises and scratches, they live in different cities now too.
I admire your candor and honesty about how life is for you with Elias.
Posted by: s.e. | 01/09/2013 at 04:36 PM
I am with those whoposted above who say they see progress---so do I, big progress. Two steps forward, one step back, and you willget there, in twice the time, but who cares?? Also, Christy, you need to visit www.literarymama.com and look under calls of rsubmissions. They're looking for parents of children with disabilities to write about their lives. I hope you don't think me presumptuous, but there is so much you have tosay--please consider submitting something. Best,
D
Posted by: danielle in zurich | 01/09/2013 at 11:48 PM
Kristen, thank you so much for your kind words, it really helps, especially on days when i feel like all I'm doing is acting as a referee for my kids. s.e., I need this reminder always, that he is really not 8 but more like a toddler when it comes to his emotions and handling conflict. And yes, I remember kicking my big brother as hard as I could in the balls and I have no idea what we were fighting about but I remember seeing him cry and realizing I had more power than I thought. And D, thank you for letting me know about the call for submissions. I do want to publish beyond my blog and work towards a book someday so I appreciate your encouragement!
Posted by: Christy | 01/14/2013 at 11:20 AM