The Worst Transition EVER

We’ve been looking for that perfect house for a while now, one that has enough room for us and our children with some to spare so we can practice hospitality, one with a large kitchen and well laid out rooms, somewhere we can permanently settle and raise our family. Well, we found it, everything I mentioned above and more, but the timing of that decision has proven to be the worst transition to date. 

Our landlord decided he wanted to sell the house we were renting, but closing on the new house kept getting pushed back. We were suddenly faced with moving out before we had somewhere to move to. Big problem for a family of five, but even worse for one with an autistic child. The only solution we could figure out was to stay with family until we were able to close on the new house.

Jackson has been doing better with transitions lately, usually only struggling with the ones any other five year old would struggle with. You know, like leaving the playground to go home get a bath and go to bed. I was hopeful we might get through this afterall.

So, step one was to get packed. Jackson took it relatively well until the late nights and days without naps took their toll on his already struggling system. He eventually broke down into a mess, sitting in his room where his bed used to be crying over and over, “but I don’t want a new house, I want to keep this one.” I couldn’t help but sit and cry with him. 

Step two was to store everything and take only the bare minimum. Trying to figure out what we absolutely had to have proved more difficult for me than for Jackson. As long as he has his blanket, pillow pet and some action figures, he’s good. I found a lesson in his simplicity, but I’ll share that one another time. 

Step three settling into my parents’ three bedroom, two bathroom house where my brother and his wife are also staying. Yes, that means nine people total in a little farm-house and all five of us sleeping in one room. I have to say that while it is a struggle to get children who are used to being tucked in and left to go to sleep on their own to go to sleep together in one room has been a challenge, I have actually enjoyed the closeness. I’ve thought several times that there are families all over the world who do this every night. I can handle it for a couple of weeks, right? While spending time with my parents has been nice and having a farm to roam has been nice as well, I’m seeing more struggle in Jackson. More whining, more fussing, more stemming and lashing out behavior. Less eye contact, less social interaction. More gaming, playing action figures all by himself, more talking back and angry expressions of his feelings. I wish I could say I have a plan all figured out for all this behavior, but this transition is hard on me and the rest of us as well. We’re all more testy and we’re all finding it harder to get along. His younger sister is REALLY struggling with the whole thing. She’s asked to go home a couple of times, and I’ve found myself struggling to know what to say because in the craziness of those moments, I do, too. I think my struggle makes his that much more difficult.

I keep thinking to myself, this too shall pass. It will all soon be a funny story we tell everyone who sees our new house, but that only brings a little comfort in the throws of a five year old’s defiance or a two year old’s testy screams. I can say, though, that once we do get settled into our new home and past all the transition woes, I will be that much more thankful for the rhythm and routine of a peaceful home we can call our own.

Daily Struggle

I’ve often joked with friends and family that I excel in crisis, but I struggle with every day living. In the case of severe crisis, I leap into action intuitively knowing what needs to be done, immediately forgetting grudges or insecurities that might apply in my relationships with those affected. However, in the minor everyday crisis like melt downs and food allergies, I have a tendency to melt down, too. 

I’ve recently read a book with many accounts of suffering and struggle that produced more faith and strength in those afflicted. I couldn’t help but think to myself, “If this is suffering, then I have never suffered, not one moment of my life.” As I finished the 475 pages of this life-changing book, I was reminded of the constant struggle I and my family face with Jackson’s food allergies and autism. 

We don’t come to one meal without thinking, “what about Jackson?” We don’t face any Holiday, family gathering or crowded adventure without thinking, “what about Jackson?” We’ve laid out plans for emotional crises and forged recipes that keep well and satisfy his pallet for those unexpected food emergencies. I have exit strategies for most of the public places we frequent, and I can read a food label like a pro. Even those little things like Kindergarten are approached with IEP’s, service and meal plans, therapy schedules and private versus public options. After thinking about all the ways his condition affects our lives, my ‘joke’ came to mind. Maybe the God of the universe agrees with my silly statement and has sent daily struggles rather than cataclysmic suffering to shape me, to make me more like His Son. 

When the one person you can’t stand but still can’t get away from suffers the loss of a spouse, parent or child (or some other catastrophic event), and somehow all the issues you had with them melt away and you feel led to intervene and help in some way. Well, that’s one thing. When the child God has entrusted to your care freaks out because he’s out of his element and struggling with the changes in his life, and somehow you can’t muster even the slightest amount of compassion because you don’t think you can take anymore whining or fussing. That’s another. 

I’ve been humbled by this minor little revelation, and feel the need to surrender this part of my life to the God who made me and my sweet Jackson. He knows us both better than we know ourselves, and only He knows how to best go about this mother/son relationship. I want so much to accept the struggle and pass this test so I can someday say I’m good in crisis and better at the every day struggle than I ever thought possible. 

Oh, how I long to hear…. 

“Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a few things; I will make you ruler over many. Enter into the joy of the Lord.” Matt 25:23