Me, smiling. Clark (headless), hugging me.

For all that Clark finds a challenge, there a few things he does better than anyone I know.

He returns to center.  He forgives me.  And I wish I didn’t have to know how good he is at these two things.

It’s already painful enough to watch your kid hurt at other people’s hands, much less your own. To see him go through friendless years with no birthday parties or sleepovers, no pick up ball games in the park, no casual drop-in’s to play Xbox.

Or to see him hurt himself. It is excruciating to hear him say, “Mom, it’s just so hard to be me. If you could just feel what it is like inside me, you’d see. It’s really confusing, it’s really fast.” Of course, he’d say this at the same time he protested that he didn’t want to take his meds because they made him feel like someone else. But, still, I ache for him, and I think I almost understand.

So, yes, I am angry at the people who overlook his awesomeness, who see only the negative.

But I am most angry at myself.

To read on, visit {a mom’s view of ADHD}.  I pour out my heart in: Sometimes I Cry.

Have a safe and happy weekend,

Pamelot

p.s. Screen shots of some wonderful stories and comments on Twitter and Facebook.  And don’t miss the great commenters over on {a mom’s view of ADHD}.  Sometimes the comments are better than my post!

 

 

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