Sheryl: An angel in your life...

The past year was by far the most taxing I've ever experienced...managing the huge demands of being a new parent of a toddler with special needs and a first year therapist, with the constant pull of being a full time graduate student.  The moment of celebration has finally arrived, however, and that year is in the past tense now and much has been accomplished:

• Graduate School For Sheryl:  Check.  
• Professional Internship for Sheryl:  Check.
• Sheryl Hired Upon Graduation:  Check.  
• Alex Selling NY Apartment Building:  Check
• Offer Accepted on Land in Port Townsend:  Check.
• Kai Walking, Running and Even Talking:  Check!

In this, my first pause since starting graduate school and having a son in 2008/2009, I find myself in a reflective space.  Recently, my dear friend asked me to reflect in writing on how being a mom has transformed me, so I thought I'd use this space as an opportunity to do just that.  In truth, there is not one cell in my body, one thought process in my mind, one quantuum in my soul or spirit that has not been completely remade over the past three years. Now for those of you who may have just experienced an internal moan, let me comfort you by offering that I will allow my mentor Inigo Montoya to guide my writing with these words: "Let me Explain.  No that is too much.  Let me Sum Up."

Prior to Kai, I was a master at crafting a mirage of limitlessness by simply setting my sled dog free accomplishing whatever I wished by sacrificing sleep, sanity and self .  However, the very first night I arrived home to a cranky and needy Kai after a draining 12 hour day at work, I realized this strategy was no longer going to cut it.  All of my training and experience in the fully immersed, flat out way of living had nothing to offer me because this pace of living required time to completely shut down and rejuvenate.  It hit me that this quiet time wasn't going to come for at least 18 years so I needed a new pace. This realization has permeated every aspect of my living: from being a mom, to a life partner and a therapist.  And as I begin to accept my own limits and take less responsibility for everything, I notice that those around me take on more, perform better, shine brighter. It is up to me to turn down clients when I have too many, to go home after 10 hours of work, to ask a friend for help with Kai if I need a break.  I realize I was great at taking responsibility for everything in my life except for creating the boundaries I most needed to thrive.  Hence, my new life:  20 hours of work, a part time nanny to help care for Kai, and time scheduled for writing and creating, my most nourishing practices. And Voila! A life rescued from mere surviving and transformed into thriving.  Learn I Have Limits: Check.

Most recently, I've come to see that my son is teaching me about another blind spot.  Ever since Kai was born everyone has said to us: "What a blessing Kai will be.  There is no one as sweet as Down's kids.  You'll be forever grateful, you've got an angel in your life."  I'm not kidding, from nurses and doctors to therapists and teachers.  It seems everyone is in agreement:  Kai is an angel we've been blessed to live with.  Well, with this kind of PR its no wonder that I fell into idealizing my own son.  Particularly given my own tendency toward idealization.  I began expecting everyone he interacted with to reinforce this glowing perception by joining the chorus of adorers.

And it was pretty unanimous until Kai got his first teeth at 14 months.  The he began experimenting with biting, at first only with me, then Alex and soon the world at large.  I can still feel the coursing anxiety I experienced when Kai bit his first child in a random coffee shop somewhere in Seattle (location permanently erased from memory).  I can remember the mom's insane reaction:  "What is your child? An animal of some kind?"  And while I initially nearly took her out with one swipe of my mama bear claw, once I was in my car I sobbed uncontrollably for at least an hour crawling home through horrible traffic, pouring rain and with a screaming Kai in the back.


Many times I've flashed back to that horrible experience wondering just what it was that wounded me so deeply.  There are many answers to this complex question, but for the purposes of this exploration I will focus on the one most relevant.  Since that incident, despite my own skilled hypervigilance, Kai has bitten other kids numerous times with a range of responses from parents from sad and shocked to supportive and understanding.  At my more tired times, I avoid gatherings with other kids as I simply cannot manage the amount of energy it takes to keep everyone safe.  I am always deeply touched by those moms who know Kai's tendency toward biting and help me be on the lookout so I don't feel so alone.  I have examined my own responses deeply enough to understand that I feel shame about Kai's biting, not that I can't stop him but that he bites at all.  And I trace this back to the process of idealization I described earlier, both about Kai and my own tendency toward idealization.

As Kai has entered full blown two year oldness, I began reading some books around supporting the testing and tempering that comes with this stage .  The best one's among them recognized the valid feelings underneath these experiences.  They helped me wake up from the dream of Kai to the reality of Kai.  Right there in front of me sat the answer: I was denying half of who Kai was for the sake of my own addiction to idealizaiton, and truly, our culture's as well.  From the moment of his birth, the expectation of angelic demeanor was placed on Kai and I dutifully carried the banner for him.  My view of Kai allowed for no aggression, frustration, or unkind behavior.  His biting became a symbol of everything Not Angel in him.  Hence, the shame. Shame, simply put, is the feeling of "I am no good." If left unchecked, my own sense of shame when Kai bit others would have soon transferred to him leaving him with that nagging feeling so many of us carry that we are not good enough.  Awaking to this insight has shifted my interactions with Kai 180 degrees.  Daily I catch myself hosting some expectation of the perfect for Kai and I challenge it every time I catch it and broaden myself to allow my son to be who he is in the moment:  frustrated, mad, raging mad or simply feeling aggressive.  The more I support him to experience his authentic feelings, the more I believe he will learn to manage these feelings without acting out or in, as so many older kids do.

Having a child is the most humbling experience I know.  And it is deeply transforming me in ways formerly unattainable despite the endless soul searching that has characterized my life.  I realize now I that I AM blessed with an angel in my life through Kai, I just needed to remember that sometimes angels take on terrible and terrifying forms.