simply "Do the next thing"

Part Three in the "Extended Family Beach Vacation" series. You can read part one here.  And part two here.


Today is Wednesday. We leave on Saturday morning for our big family trip to Florida. You know I am more than a little worried about pretty much every facet of this trip. Actually, I think the word "worried" is an understatement. Let's review the facts:

• We have never been on a trip longer than two days since we became a family of four. That's three years of weekend trips only. Three years of mostly unsuccessful weekend trips.
• Our little RADish thrives on routines. And even then the chaos is lurking right around the corner.
• Both of the boys pretty much have absolutely no ability to entertain themselves in any way.
• I am really really tired of riding in the front seat while my body is twisted around tot he back so that I can hold on to one kid to stop him from hurting the other kid. I am seriously too old for that.
• We have never successfully navigated a night at a hotel as a family of four. Although I have a friend who was just mentioning some sort of "noise violation" she may have received on a recent hotel stay, thanks to her kids, so maybe our overnights haven't been so bad...
• We seem to travel with an entire zoo of stuffed animals. This is not really a problem, I just find it really really annoying.

So we have planned, and then planned again, and then threw out the plan and started over with all the planning. We have thought through every possible scenario. "What if a zombie apocalypse comes and we can't get the youngest on board with running away as fast as we can?"  Oh yeah, we have a plan for that.

Which brings me back to today. It is now Wednesday. We leave on Saturday. My desire to take this trip rises and falls with the moods and behaviors of my youngest son. Earlier in the week? Dreading the trip. Last night I deposited my beloved children into their father's hands while I got my hair done and shopped for beach toys. Alone. So today the dread is lifting. Excitement is starting to build. Maybe we can do this. After all, we have:

• rented a car with three rows, so that the RADish can freak out all he wants without being able to actually touch anyone.
• loaded two iPads with games and movies and thrown out all rules about electronics in the car. these iPads will be turned on before we even leave the driveway.
• also thrown out all rules about eating in the car. snacks, snacks, and more snacks. if he is eating, maybe he won't be screaming.
• purchased large, round, totally dangerous longer lasting suckers. hopefully these will serve a dual purpose- both in keeping mouths quiet and in providing the sucking motion that helps my youngest regain regulation. unfortunately, once he is dis regulated it is very hard to bring him back, and he refuses to take the needed "sensory breaks" to keep his system regulated. I'm hoping to trick him into this with the suckers.
• put a plan in place for bedtime in the hotel, on our way to Florida and back. a cocktail for me in the hotel lobby while I play games with my oldest son and wait for the "he's asleep" text to arrive from my sweet husband.
• thrown out all my planning for fun on the way. I have given up and not purchased little treats to be lovingly handed out at certain points of the trip- 50 miles, when we count 10 red cars... these games, while fun, always end badly and my husband has pleaded with me to not put too much planning into making this trip fun. our new motto?

 "Let's just get through this!"

 

 

 

I am confident that once we get to our destination we will encounter a whole new set of challenges. And we will take it one day, one hour, one minute at a time. We will simply do the next thing. A very good friend of mine recently used that phrase when describing a difficult time in her life. And I agree. We will make memories that will last a lifetime, and my little guy will have so much fun. He will dig in the sand, swim in the ocean, ride on a boat, eat ice cream.... Hopefully spending an entire week with his extended family will allow the love we all have for him to seep into his battered little soul.

 

 

Yesterday I watched my youngest son wind himself up while the dishwasher repairman was in our kitchen. He was hyper active with excitement, jumping around and generally getting in the way. After a few comments from the repairman my momma bear kicked in and I found myself fiercely protecting this child of mine. This same child who drives me to the edge of sanity on a regular basis. This same child who forces me out of the house every single night at bedtime. Who at times rages so hard he lashes out at me, physically. Who, when angry, follows me around the house, purposely trying to upset me so that I turn on him, proving to him that he is right about love and filling the room with the negativity he is so comfortable around. I can cry, scream at my husband, wake up in the middle of the night worrying, leave my bed to join him in his, because while he is sleeping I have the rare opportunity to just "be" with him, without him getting so hyper he pulls away. Yes, I have earned the right to all of these actions and feelings. But no one outside of our small circle has those rights. And especially not a repairman passing through our kitchen.

 

 

Every time I feel these protective feelings kick in I am flooded with peace and the knowledge that I can do this. I can get through today. I can get us all through two days on the road. I can enjoy a week with family on a beautiful beach. I can do it, one day, one hour, one minute at a time. I can just do the next thing. 

 

 



The Extended Family Vacation- part one

This post is the first in a short series on taking our little RADish on an extended family vacation. A two day road trip, a large house full of kids, a dangerous ocean.... what could go wrong?



Next month we are heading to the beach. Me and the boys will be loading up the car and starting out on the longest car trip we have attempted since our youngest joined our family. Both boys have been campaigning heavily to fly, and they might be on to something. But we are going to drive it. A real family vacation, a road trip.

And when we get to the beach, we will find ourselves smack in the middle of my husband's large family. That's right, we are taking our chaos, trauma and behaviors to a large beach house and rolling out the circus for the family. I am seriously considering just packing beach towels and alcohol.

The list of things that we cannot do as a family of trauma has gotten smaller over the past three years. This summer we have gone strawberry picking. My husband took the boys to a loud, hot, crowded NASCAR race. We have been swimming in the crowded pool in our new neighborhood. We have accomplished longer car trips and not lost anyone at large playgrounds. We made it through a cousin's birthday party. We have rolled with the punches too- scrambling to find a full time summer sitter when my little RADish got himself kicked out of daycare and taking lots of deep breaths when behaviors ratchet up. But nothing we have managed to accomplish so far this summer will hold a candle to what we will face come the first week of August.

  The extended family vacation.

 

 

When I tell people that we are heading to the beach, five families, seven kids between the ages of two and eleven, with a high schooler and college kid thrown in to round out the mix, I get a smiling response. "Oh, that will be so much fun!". "What a wonderful opportunity!". And I agree. It should be fun. And it is a nice opportunity, in theory. These well meaning people? They have no idea.

 

After two days on the road we will emerge from the car, toys and books falling out as we open the doors. We will gather the trash- I'm thinking it will mainly be ripped pages of books and broken happy meal toys we will be filling that trash bag with- the garbage of the traumatized. A month of planning and preparing for those two days will still have us dragging ourselves out of the car, two exhausted parents, one cluelessly happy seven year and a sullen five year old with a settle to score.

 

We will then spend the next week in a state of hyper vigilance. While our relatives drink ice tea and spend time making memories, relaxing as their children play, we will be following our youngest son around, working hard to stay one step ahead of him. He will be smiling and happy and we will feel stupid as we keep a watchful eye over absolutely everything he does. We will drag him away from his cousins and his fun before something goes wrong, attempting to offer him sensory breaks, which he will refuse. We will flounder, unsure of our parenting skills on a good day, let alone with so many eyes upon us. We will question- should we let him go back and play? Should we force the break? Eventually my husband and I will let the frustration get the best of us and we will argue.

 

Another time we will forego the sensory break, letting our youngest son continue to play with his cousins. Someone will get hit, or something will get broken. "Boys will be boys", we will hear. "All kids act like that, you should have seen what my son did at his age!".

 

We will spend a lot of time alone, just the four of us, on this trip. It will be great, quality time, fun and maybe, just maybe, a little relaxing. This hiding will come with a price though. Even if it is not happening we will still feel judged. Relatives will try to include us. They will not understand that it is better for our little family to spend some time alone. That we are OK with this. We will feel as though we are letting someone down during most every moment of this trip. Spend too much time with the large group and we may not be doing what is best for our son. Keep him secluded and we may be helping his anxiety, but also appear as though we have something to hide. I am exhausted just thinking about it, and it is still a month away!

 

And then there is the parenting style that we have adopted. So far in this life of ours we have adopted two kids, a puppy, two guinea pigs, a fish or two,  and about a million parenting styles. Parenting a child of trauma with attachment issues  requires a specific set of skills that we are just beginning to learn. Skills that are not in the arsenal of main stream parents. Techniques that find us not punishing as others might think we should. "Why are they letting him get away with that?". Why indeed.

 

 

So why are we going? Why spend a week of precious vacation time, time we need to reserve for doctor's appointments, therapy intensives, self care? With two kids, one with a cleft palate and one with attachment issues, we are booked solid with appointments, all requiring one of us to take time off work. Why drive for two days, amid fighting, while dodging shoes and toys thrown at us from the backseat? Why spend a week in hyper vigilant mode, attempting to anticipate our youngest son's next move? Why take our circus on the road to the beach, adding an ocean of dangerous water to our live circus show?

 

I'll tell you why. Because my oldest son deserves to spend time with his extended family, and he radiates sadness if we don't do things as a family. Because my youngest son loves to play in the sand, and is just beginning to enjoy swimming. Because despite how hard this will be it is a great opportunity to show him, once again, what a family is. How a family feels.  How a family acts. Because I will experience moments of absolute joy as I play in the sand with my son, or as I watch him have a sweet moment with his aunt. Because at the end of the day I hope to be able to tally up more good moments than bad.  Because I am not going to make excuses for my son. I will explain reasons but not give excuses. Because he has a right to share these experiences with his family. Because this is who we are, and there is no reason we can't do this. I might be crazy and over optimistic, but I really think we can do this. Bring on the sun!

 

 

Stay tuned for more posts in the "Extended Family Beach Vacation" series. Topics to include sharing details of our story with family, preparing my RADish for our road trip, and taking essential oils on the road.