"I'm just so happy to be home."
I saw so much hope today. It was so sweet to have him back. He responded to my concern for his misty eyes with, "I'm just so happy to be home." He was moved to tears at the sight of his whole family at the table together - just doing homework. We were finally all back together.
I wish I could say this was a familiar feeling, but last time was not like this. There was raging & threats. The aggression and violence were out of town. It was hours - not days - before he was right back in the hospital. Even after two additional hospitalizations that month we weren't exactly excited about him coming home. He was barely able to control his body. I was filled with fear and anxiety. I was ready for the in-home therapy to start. I felt afraid and unsure. He was coming home, but none of us were ready.
Today, I couldn't stop smiling. I was filled with joy over the contrast. My heart was hopeful as my son - who NEVER connects the dots - was linking together his triggers and his coping skills at our discharge meeting. He was coming up with a safety plan all on his own. He was owning his future. He cut out sugar himself over the weekend after we shared with him our concern of him struggling with it. We didn't restrict his diet for him, we let him decide since they let the kids order their own food. He is thinking things through and considering what may happen. He's connecting the dots on his own.
I mostly HATE medications. I wrote all about this last week, but my hate is not as extreme these days. A new, big, scary pill (seriously this thing is huge) is changing my kids' life. He is on more medication each day than I ever thought I would support, but he is functioning as I always knew he could.
Today he was expressing himself. He was owning his choices. He didn't stress at his consequences. He played with legos by himself in his room for almost an hour - usually 10 minutes in his room sends him into an anxious panic. He closed his own door! Hopefully someday he won't need the help. There may be a future with less or possibly no meds. But today, I need to accept that the difference in him is remarkable. I am seeing my son at a new level of his potential - and it is worth it.
There were more hugs in this home tonight. A few extra kisses, too. We enjoyed his welcome home dinner and cupcakes. The other kids shared how much they missed him all week. He got caught up on their most memorable dreams. A few stories of theirs included how he scared them or how they were worried about him. All valuable things to say to someone you love who had to go away to a behavioral health (psychiatric) hospital. They shared and expressed their genuine care for him.
When she got home from school and saw her big brother at the door, my sweet 7 year old grabbed a sticker she had apparently been carrying around all week for him. I didn't even know where she got it from, but she had it ready.
Apparently (upon further investigation) she picked it out for him at the doctors office on Saturday. I told her he had to get his flu shot at the hospital since he missed our family appointment (they book months out!). There was a sticker she wanted him to have and she wasn't sure if he'd get one at the hospital when he got his shot. Instead of asking, she took matters into her own hands. She said the nurse said it was ok. (Heart melting.)
When I asked him to take the sticker (from his sister) off of his shirt before putting it in the laundry tonight, I assumed he threw it away. Stickers in the laundry are the worst - so I heard him take it off and was relieved. The sticker was Winnie the Pooh and he isn't a huge fan. I didn't think much of it. After I read to him, I tucked him in.
As I was walking out I saw he had moved it to his shirt for tomorrow. His clothes all neatly in a pile with the sticker right on top. He had kept the sticker that was so precious - not because it was cool, but because it was from his sister. What a precious memory I will always cherish.
Then, one of the five year olds sent down socks that have a wolf on them. Daddy was instructed to bring them downstairs. Our oldest's favorite animal is on those socks (he's seriously wolf obsessed). He wants his brother to have those socks because he likes them. He considered how our oldest is staying home from school to ease into day treatment tomorrow. He thought of his brother's outfit for tomorrow and wanted to make sure he had these socks. Taking care of his big brother was a priority to him. Even if to me it is just a pair of socks. This is love.
The way my kids love each other never ceases to amaze me. Yes. They are normal siblings. You wouldn't know they didn't all grow up together if they all had matching skin. They tattle and yell at each other. They get in fights and tease each other. They do incredibly mean things.
But, when it counts - they step up for each other. They take the blame (annoying, but sweet). They think of each other. They cry over the other missing something fun or delicious. They save stickers. They set out socks for each other. Their love is simple. It is pure. Their love runs deep.
So, I'm filled with hope for our future. For kids who feel. Kids who think of others. For compassion. Kindness. Gentleness. Empathy. From across a handful of diagnoses, I have seen my children show love today. While I'm sure they'll be back at it tomorrow, I choose to stop and appreciate this moment.
What a beautiful end to such a horrible week.
I wish I could say this was a familiar feeling, but last time was not like this. There was raging & threats. The aggression and violence were out of town. It was hours - not days - before he was right back in the hospital. Even after two additional hospitalizations that month we weren't exactly excited about him coming home. He was barely able to control his body. I was filled with fear and anxiety. I was ready for the in-home therapy to start. I felt afraid and unsure. He was coming home, but none of us were ready.
Today, I couldn't stop smiling. I was filled with joy over the contrast. My heart was hopeful as my son - who NEVER connects the dots - was linking together his triggers and his coping skills at our discharge meeting. He was coming up with a safety plan all on his own. He was owning his future. He cut out sugar himself over the weekend after we shared with him our concern of him struggling with it. We didn't restrict his diet for him, we let him decide since they let the kids order their own food. He is thinking things through and considering what may happen. He's connecting the dots on his own.
I mostly HATE medications. I wrote all about this last week, but my hate is not as extreme these days. A new, big, scary pill (seriously this thing is huge) is changing my kids' life. He is on more medication each day than I ever thought I would support, but he is functioning as I always knew he could.
Today he was expressing himself. He was owning his choices. He didn't stress at his consequences. He played with legos by himself in his room for almost an hour - usually 10 minutes in his room sends him into an anxious panic. He closed his own door! Hopefully someday he won't need the help. There may be a future with less or possibly no meds. But today, I need to accept that the difference in him is remarkable. I am seeing my son at a new level of his potential - and it is worth it.
There were more hugs in this home tonight. A few extra kisses, too. We enjoyed his welcome home dinner and cupcakes. The other kids shared how much they missed him all week. He got caught up on their most memorable dreams. A few stories of theirs included how he scared them or how they were worried about him. All valuable things to say to someone you love who had to go away to a behavioral health (psychiatric) hospital. They shared and expressed their genuine care for him.
When she got home from school and saw her big brother at the door, my sweet 7 year old grabbed a sticker she had apparently been carrying around all week for him. I didn't even know where she got it from, but she had it ready.
Apparently (upon further investigation) she picked it out for him at the doctors office on Saturday. I told her he had to get his flu shot at the hospital since he missed our family appointment (they book months out!). There was a sticker she wanted him to have and she wasn't sure if he'd get one at the hospital when he got his shot. Instead of asking, she took matters into her own hands. She said the nurse said it was ok. (Heart melting.)
When I asked him to take the sticker (from his sister) off of his shirt before putting it in the laundry tonight, I assumed he threw it away. Stickers in the laundry are the worst - so I heard him take it off and was relieved. The sticker was Winnie the Pooh and he isn't a huge fan. I didn't think much of it. After I read to him, I tucked him in.
As I was walking out I saw he had moved it to his shirt for tomorrow. His clothes all neatly in a pile with the sticker right on top. He had kept the sticker that was so precious - not because it was cool, but because it was from his sister. What a precious memory I will always cherish.
Then, one of the five year olds sent down socks that have a wolf on them. Daddy was instructed to bring them downstairs. Our oldest's favorite animal is on those socks (he's seriously wolf obsessed). He wants his brother to have those socks because he likes them. He considered how our oldest is staying home from school to ease into day treatment tomorrow. He thought of his brother's outfit for tomorrow and wanted to make sure he had these socks. Taking care of his big brother was a priority to him. Even if to me it is just a pair of socks. This is love.
The way my kids love each other never ceases to amaze me. Yes. They are normal siblings. You wouldn't know they didn't all grow up together if they all had matching skin. They tattle and yell at each other. They get in fights and tease each other. They do incredibly mean things.
But, when it counts - they step up for each other. They take the blame (annoying, but sweet). They think of each other. They cry over the other missing something fun or delicious. They save stickers. They set out socks for each other. Their love is simple. It is pure. Their love runs deep.
So, I'm filled with hope for our future. For kids who feel. Kids who think of others. For compassion. Kindness. Gentleness. Empathy. From across a handful of diagnoses, I have seen my children show love today. While I'm sure they'll be back at it tomorrow, I choose to stop and appreciate this moment.
What a beautiful end to such a horrible week.
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