Mommy Meltdown

When you look up meltdown in the dictionary, at least the one I have on hand, it is listed as a noun referring to what happens in a nuclear power plant when the fuel in a reactor melts the core and the shielding.

In my house, however, it is used to refer to the irrational, unpredictable and often uncontrollable reaction Jackson has to changes in schedule or expectations (transitioning between activities mostly), and objects or people that scare him (the most recent being stuffed owls at the nature center). Any parent of a child on the spectrum knows exactly what I'm talking about.

There's one other type of meltdown in our house, though. One I don't like to talk about or admit to. That would be the Mommy Meltdown. This is my irrational, unpredictable and often uncontrollable reaction to the events of the day or my expectations for the future. It occurs most often in the quiet of the night when the house is still and I should be sleeping like everyone else. It is often in this stillness that I struggle to calm my mind and my heart. There might be one particular thing that sets me off, but more often than not it is a combination of things resulting in me feeling overwhelmed and inadequate. That's when the tears seem to explode out of me, and I put the Holy Spirit to work translating all my sobs into prayers. If I were to attempt a translation, it would usually be that I can't. I just can't do it. I'm not strong enough. I'm not organized enough. I'm not patient enough. I get frustrated and overwhelmed too easily. Jackson isn't getting what he needs. My other children aren't getting what they need. I'm not enough, and I can't be the mother I want to be.

Now, if I were able to articulate how those prayers usually get answered, I would say that God agrees with me. I'm not strong, organized or patient. I am easily frustrated and overwhelmed. I'm not enough, and I can't give my children everything they need. Now if God just left it there, I think this post would be basically pointless. But, here's the thing. I'm not enough, but God is. He's enough for me and my kids, and he never gets tired, frustrated or overwhelmed. He is strong, organized and infinitely patient, and He offers grace and help for the asking.

There's a transaction that takes place in this meltdown process, a transaction between me and God. I trade my frustration for His peace, my weakness for His strength. I give Him my mess, and He gives me back a blessing. I tell Him I can't keep going, and He tells me it's ok, He'll just carry me for a while.

I wish I could say then I fall asleep and wake up to perfection, but I think that would be missing the point. I've learned a powerful lesson through these mommy meltdowns. I'm not perfect, and I don't have to be. God's love for me and pleasure in me has nothing to do with my performance. He wants to help me do everything He has given me to do, and I don't have to do one thing alone. He's all I need.

It would be nice to learn this lesson well enough never to meltdown again, but I guess it's going to be a work in progress. I'll have to glean a little wisdom from Jackson and his meltdowns. Growth is sometimes slow but always happening. With each day, therapy and incident will come new levels of tolerance and understanding. We'll just have to grow together.