“Today, I yelled at you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just playing like a normal 3 year old would…but I yelled at you. I told you to stop…to be quiet…to just listen to me. You spilled your water. It was an accident…but I yelled. I told you be to careful…to pay attention…to just sit still.”
“It’s the first time my son has taken off his church button-up and replaced it on his hanger. No, it’s not perfect. Yes, it’s still disheveled. But he was trying to do the right thing…completely unprompted. So often, we walk right by our children’s best efforts.”
“‘Go ahead, I’ll watch the kids.’ The woman walks off, alone. She’ll be back soon, and anyway, her mother loves time with the grandkids. She’ll get a kick of watching the 3-year-old go up and down the tiny plastic slide. After the play space, they’ll do a little more shopping and grab lunch at the Food Court. Mostly, they’ll talk. It’s a common scene. But it makes a lump rise in my throat. I used to do this sort of thing, before my mom got too sick.”
“No matter how hard I worked, how dedicated I was, or how much effort I put into my classroom, I was still considered ‘just a teacher.’ My parents did not raise a quitter.”
“The other day one of my son’s friends, who has been spending a lot of time at our house, called him ‘Rich Boy.’ At the time, my son really didn’t have much to say about it, but at bedtime something was on his mind that he needed help sorting out. ‘Mommy, why was Charlie calling me Rich Boy?’ I felt tears begin to sting my eyes and clenched my toes to will them back into place.”
“As soon as I woke, I immediately went looking for my husband. I don’t know how, but I knew something was terribly wrong. I searched room-by-room and when I got to the office, I saw it. A note on the desk. I remember screaming in my backyard, crying to the 911 operator. ‘Can you tell me about his erratic behavior?’ I watched the blood on my hands go down the sink as I tried my best to answer questions. Guilt washed over me.”
“Nothing readies you for when your 8 year old has completely lost control; for when his behavior disorders become so powerful his brain is no longer acting as a part of his body but has now waged war on it. But today–thank God, today–I kept it together.”
“We jumped in the car to run some evening errands. ‘Stay there. We are sending help,’ she said urgently. The thing that defined our relationship was snack wrappers. It’s embarrassing to admit how much of our daily interaction revolved around me telling him to, ‘pick them up!’ It is always the unimportant decisions that change lives.”
“Sometimes my teenager’s 6ft-tall stature and deep voice and shadow of a mustache and size 13 shoes trick me into thinking he might not need me so much anymore. Everything seems to be changing, but there is one thing that will never change…I will ALWAYS be his mom.”
Since her soldier husband wasn’t expected to return home from Kuwait for another few weeks, Cydney began typing up a text message for him with an update about their newborn twins. Meanwhile, she had no idea someone very special had just walked into the hospital room.
