Skip to main content

Memories Over Meltdowns

Yesterday was rough. As a teacher, I also double as an August stay-at-home mother. Most days are manageable. Most days are fine.

Yesterday started out better than fine. We arrived early for therapy, so we stopped for breakfast together. The girls were sweet, happy, and giggly. It one of those precious moments where everything just clicked, and I took some wonderful photos as they ate breakfast.

To my remorse and embarrassment, however, the day ended with my own personal screaming meltdown.

Loowan had occupational therapy yesterday, and I had to bring Siikwan along. She doesn't usually come to Loowan's sessions, but on the rare occasion she does, we've spoken thoroughly about the rules:
1. It’s Loowan’s therapy, not Siikwan’s.
2. Siikwan is only allowed to participate at the sole direction of the therapist. Otherwise, she has to wait on the side, watch, or play on her tablet.

The first part went fine. Siikwan got to play in the sandbox with Loowan, color, and even play with the fun foam on the mirror.

Then came the last 15 minutes. Loowan wanted to build a seesaw. She was struggling, not asking for help, but trying to work out solutions for herself.

It was torture for Siikwan. To her credit, we hadn't been able to give her Ritalin that morning. We missed the window, so I knew it could be a challenging day. Those 15 minutes were hell for Siikwan as she waited to be allowed to help. They were also hell for me as I desperately tried to physically hold her back, whispering reassurances that Loowan could do it on her own.

We finished and made our way to the car. I didn't speak for almost 10 minutes. When I finally did, the volcano of frustration erupted from me so forcefully that I was sure I was having an out-of-body experience.
It was one of my worst moments. I beat myself up for it all day.

Now, a day later, I'm a bit more forgiving of myself because I know that:
- I'm human, and humans make mistakes.
- I apologized, hugged, and kissed her as soon as we got home.
- Putting her in a position like that, unmedicated, was setting her up to fail. She shouldn't be punished for wanting to be a kid and help her sister.

There are roughly two more weeks of summer vacation left. Here's hoping for memories over meltdowns.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

There's Nothing Wrong Here

Two summers ago, our newly grown family was traveling to visit relatives and friends in the States. Siikwan, our oldest, was five, and our little one, Loowan, was just a year old. ​Thanks to another war breaking out back home, we were stuck in America for much longer than anticipated, even missing the start of the school year—Siikwan’s first year of elementary school, first grade. ​Sleeping in one room with my family for weeks on end, I began to notice things about Loowan that had previously slipped past me in the rush of daily life. All summer long, people kept making comments: "What's wrong with her? She doesn't look at me." ​All. Summer. Long. ​It was only then that I realized she was giving eye contact exclusively to me. That realization, coupled with a sudden speech regression, was enough to make two things crystal clear: 1. ​There is nothing fucking wrong with her. (Who says that to a parent?) 2. ​There might be something here I'm not yet seeing. ​When we fi...
Post a Comment
Read more

High Masking, High Functioning

While our journey with Loowan was about finding the right early intervention therapies, our experience with Siikwan sent us down a completely different rabbit hole: one paved with research gaps, subtle signs, and a word we hadn't fully understood until we were living it: masking . If you look at the history of autism research, the vast majority of it has focused on boys. Because of this, classic diagnostic criteria, and what most people picture when they think of autism, are often tailored to how neurodivergence manifests in young males. Very little is widely known or discussed about how it presents in girls, particularly between the ages of 5 and 8. And during those crucial years, our sparkling gem of a girl was becoming an expert masker. Masking is essentially the exhausting act of learning, copying, and performing neurotypical social behaviors to fit in or camouflage internal distress. At school, Siikwan could mostly hold it together, observe her peers, and mirror what was ex...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Village, The Progress, and The Big Step Ahead

Fast forward to today. Both of our girls have been diagnosed on the spectrum, but their paths look entirely different. Loowan is now a year and a half into her diagnosis, and we spent the early days throwing ourselves into finding as many of the appropriate therapies as we could. When you first get a diagnosis, it can feel like you’re handed a vast map without a compass. You’re trying to navigate system approvals, therapy schedules, and endless appointments while just wanting to help your child connect with the world around her. Looking back now, we have seen tremendous growth. Specifically through our work with her speech therapist. I genuinely cannot say enough good things about this woman. Finding a professional who doesn't just "do their job," but deeply understands your child's inner world, changes everything for a family. (If you live in Gush Etzion and are looking for early intervention speech therapy, send me a message... boy do I have a recommendation for you...
Post a Comment
Read more