Rubber, Lead or Crystal

Many years ago, when my life was getting stressful and I felt I had too many things to juggle, my sister taught me about rubber, lead and crystal balls.  Some things are like rubber balls. If you drop them, they bounce back and you can take care of them another time. Other things are lead.  When lead balls drop, they stay down. They were not necessary to begin with.  The last are crystal. These are the important items, ones you need to deal with. When crystal drops, it breaks.  The hard part is the recognition. 

Deal with the rubber tomorrow, don't worry about the lead, and take care of the crystal. 

This was good advice and I used it often. 

Now add the X factor to the equation.  The rubber balls are things I thought I had taken care of: IEP's, meds, or crazy behaviors.  They keep coming back again and again. The lead balls are just plain heavy, weighing on my heart and my mind. When dropped, they always land on my foot.  Ouch.  The crystal ball is the one that looks into the future.  My crystal ball is murky, hazy, unclear.  I have no idea what the future holds. 

Enter the positive spin:  Everytime a rubber ball comes back, I get to make it better.  I learn from it, grow from it, and hopefully get a better result. The lead balls are like lifting weights.  It makes you stronger in the end.  And finally crystal.  Just like a crystal chadelier or wine glass, it can be truly beautiful when hit just right by the light.     

Learn what I can, let it make me stronger, and find the beauty.

The sparkling brilliance of my daughter with a future too bright to see.

                                                                                                      photo credit

No Shame In Tears

Last week I was reading (Time, I think) that crying is the bodies natural reset button.  I have been doing a lot of 'resetting' over the last 6 months: any place, any time, accept home.  My daughter is incredibly empathic and she falls apart if she sees me cry. Without a single word or look her radar picks up on my emotions, "Mom, why are you sad?". I have no way to explain it to a 7 year old.  I am her rock.  I have to be.  So I 'reset' in my car or at work in my office in those spare moments when I am alone. Then I get embarrassed and maybe a little ashamed, trying to fix my makeup before someone walks in.  Quite frankly, I am tired of the tears, but I know I can't stop it.  So here is my plan: get some waterproof mascara and say "bring it on".  I have no shame in my tears and I will explain to my daughter that I cry because I love.

The diagnosis came in October and it was rough, but it is not like we didn't know something was wrong.  Partly I was relieved to finally know what the real deal was - and that there was a physical reason behind everything that was going on. We attended our first symposium on October 30, and it was like going down a checklist of all the issues we were having. Here was the answer, and here also was the beginning of more questions, I dove right in and read every book I could find in the library, and scoured the internet for information.  I read the factual, scientific reports, and I read the first hand accounts of other families dealing with Fragile X. I couldn't stop the emotions: worry, fear, anger, jealousy,etc. I still feel overwhelmed some days and I am still working on acceptance. Like the tide, it ebbs and flows with good days and bad, but I am her rock, and I will not erode.