It started with a donut and ended with a broken heart.
E, our oldest, has a LOT of food restrictions.
I have blogged several times in the past about what the "diet" entails and why we chose to try it and the results we have gotten. In case you missed that though, in a nutshell ...
- no artificial anythings, (dyes, sweetners)
- no preservatives,
- no pesticides,
- and more recently limited grains/dairy.
Pretty much adhering to it has been the hardest, most satisfying accomplishment of my parenthood thus far. When we stick to it 100% then that child can accomplish amazing things. When we slip up, which happens, then we see what we call "the fog" set in and when "the fog" sets in then my pre-schooler can get more done than E. She struggles understanding simple things and is more emotional than a pregnant woman. We deal with outbursts that usually end in some form of violence and 24/48 hours of non-stop crying! We all suffer. Before the diet change we were considering medicating for that reason alone - of course it was hard to see E suffer but it was harder watching the entire family suffer along the emotional roller coaster of her life. Since the change our family has grown closer by leaps and bounds. It's because of all this that I am so darn strict, controlling, of what she gets a hold of. Because children are sinners ... and as sinners we all want to eat that forbidden fruit no matter the ugly consequences.
Sundays are hard. We go to a Southern Baptist church in the South. Pretty much that translates to large helpings of sugary food around every corner on every Sunday morning. E has had a lot of experience with telling people "no thank-you". Her pediatrician explained to her last year that these restrictions were not optional any longer and were allergies and she would need to start explaining to people what she was allergic to. We encourage her to tell what she wants. If that's just "I am allergic to sugar" then thats great, if she feels the need to say, "I have a form of autism aggravated by those foods", then good for her. If she would prefer, "If I eat that then I will turn into a horn-bearing creature that will torment those around me for days and my mother will force you to take me home with you!" then even better!! We want her to obey the rules but still remain comfortable in the setting.
Back to Sunday ...
She can now go off by herself to her class. She loves the independence. My class is just right down the hall. As I was walking to my class I caught a glimpse of her sitting alone, almost hiding in the back corner of her class. I wanted to just go in and remind her that she was suppose to start trying to join the group. That's when I saw the panicked look on her face and the tears streaming down her cheeks as she shoved the last of a donut in her mouth. I could have been mad ... but I wasn't. I just wanted to hold her in that moment because I realized she acted impulsively and even before she was done with the action she felt bad for doing it. When she saw me she burst into wails that drew the attention of the adults in the room. I took her into the hallway and she instantly started telling me she felt so bad for the decision and she already knew how she was going to feel and ended with a, "I promise when I feel bad tomorrow I will control it". If only it were that easy.
Yesterday was HELL. She cried over simple addition (she's been multiplying for weeks). She slapped, punched, yelled, snatched ... all the while I feebly attempted to remind her of her promise. But there was no use. She knew her thinking was foggy and she knew exactly why and I have never seen a child regret a decision so much. She couldn't taste the donut anymore ... the temporary "feel good" of the sin was gone, leaving behind the ugliness of it. The only consolation when this happens is that maybe she will learn this lesson at 8 and not 18. The consequences of instant gratifications last longer than an instant.
This morning when she woke up and sat reading calmly in her bed, I realized the "other" E was back. (My grandfather use to say there were 2 "E's", the good and the bad) The morning was so smooth and she was even able to finish school by lunch, a rarity. After lunch she brought me a book called, "Different Like Me". She got it from the library recently and it is about other famous people who had autism traits. She wanted to tell me something about Isaac Newton but instead she ended up telling me about how happy and sad she was that she had Aspergers. She let me in like she never has before. She said she felt special because she could do so many things kids her age couldn't and that made her happy, but she was sad because no matter how hard she tried those girls in her Sunday School class would never be her friends, they would never understand her. She let me know she didn't think there was a place she'd "fit in". She cried. I cried. A good calming cry - nothing like the raging storm of the day before.
After we talked and reconciled all that happened - I saw a more confident, content, calmed E emerge.
It was a simple reminder that when our bad choices put us in a dark place that hope is always around the corner. God can take us from that ugly place and emerge us better people if we allow Him to. Staying in that place of regret is where the harm lies.
It almost made me glad for the donut ... almost.
No comments:
Post a Comment