Dear Banner,
I vividly remember when you were 2, 3, and 4 weeks old - in the throes of early motherhood when I had not a CLUE what I was doing, when life was flipped upside down and backwards all at the same time. Night was day; day was night. What I used to do fast became slow and laborious with a new little guy in our lives. Leaving the house took longer than the trip out. And worry was taken to a whole new level. My brain was always on and completely exhausted, my body hurt, my mind raced, and you were just ... you. In some ways, things are very much the same as that time: life with you is always new, and you definitely keep my mind busy with answering questions, worrying about you still, and trying to figure out parenting with you, my firstborn. I've come to learn that this will never change.
One of the greatest things that is different from that time, though, is time itself. I remember wishing away the days until you were 6, 7, 8-weeks old and then 4-, 5-, 6-months-old. That's when I was told reflux would get better. That's when I was told crying would subside. That's when I was told the risk of SIDS would greatly diminish. And time seemed to creep by, as my frustration and anxiety continued while all the questions and "
experiments" never seemed to have an ending or conclusions. Yet, now, time seems to speed up and won't slow no matter how much I want it to. Older women always told me to cherish those early days, as they would fly all too quickly. They were right in some ways and wrong in others. I do NOT miss the spit-up and the mid-night wakings and the not knowing what was wrong with my crying infant. But, I do miss the snuggles and the firsts. Those were the days when I learned to become not only A mom, but YOUR mom. I do cherish that. Learning you was hard because I didn't trust myself, and I put too much time and energy into figuring you out, when I just needed to BE with you. Your brothers helped me learn some of these lessons, too, as I got more and more relaxed with each of them. They probably also made me a better mom to YOU, because I learned not to sweat the small stuff and that you would turn out just fine if I would just BE with you.
At SEVEN years old, we are still very much on a journey of discovering who you are and what you need, but you have the ability now to share and talk and let us know what's going on in your head. You are beyond inquisitive. Your questions never stop. You ask the most amazing questions. Your head is always thinking of a gazillion things, and you are not at all afraid to ask about something that's puzzling you. Often times, your questions center around things that are most anxiety-provoking for you: bad guys, tornadoes, storms, fires. Other times, you ask about homelessness, the universe, death, illness, Nazis, wars. Recently, I posted this random assortment of questions you had asked within 24 hours: "Are all planets round? What does conquer mean? Are worm holes real? Do people torture people, and what does that mean to torture someone? Are there really such things as black holes? Can you break a muscle? Is it rare to get growing pains as a grown up? When the world ends, will all galaxies disappear? If we have to brush our teeth to keep them clean, how do the bones inside our bodies get clean? Did you ask all these kinds of questions as a kid?"
I bet I did, but not to the level of intelligence that you seem to have! You're definitely a gifted thinker. You've been in the PACE program for over a year now, and you excel at academics. You have awesome ideas and just seem to "get" the world of literature, math, social studies, and science like I never did so early on. I love that you love to learn. You like to research whatever you are into, and you want answers to everything! You are not shy at the library - to ask the librarians about helping you find books about the Titanic sinking, about World War II, about the newest I Survived... books. It's hard to know how to guide you when I'm just not sure how much you need to know about some of these topics at only first grade! Your reading level and curiosity are far beyond your emotional ability to let it live in your head at this early age, so I grapple with how to handle your quest for understanding of these complex topics.
It's been hard to remember this year that you were only 6 years old. Your emotional needs and social immaturity can sometimes surprise us - and we have to remind ourselves that you are only 6 - now 7 - and perhaps we're are expecting too much of you. But, cognitively and verbally, you are so advanced that we forget sometimes you need to be explicitly taught how to respond to others, why certain rules apply, how to interact more kindly with your brothers. Most of the issues we experience and are working on are greatly due to ADHD, a diagnosis we confirmed back in August. The story leading to that diagnosis is a whole other post I've been working on, but for now, I'll just say it's something I always suspected, and when you started saying pretty insightful yet concerning things about your own thinking and functioning, we decided to pursue further testing. You took the news of your diagnosis exceptionally well, although the conversation at Cici's was quite humorous given that Daddy probably has ADHD as well! I think I was the only one "there" that night! The discussion itself proved how very real your diagnosis is! But, once we started reading books about kids with ADHD and getting you some help, you realized what you were experiencing isn't uncommon for kids with ADHD and that you aren't alone.
Deciding what to DO about the ADHD has been a complicated part of our year. Do we medicate? Do we trust the feedback - or lack thereof - from teachers? Do we need to do a sleep study too? Do we think the medication is working? Do we take you off of it when you aren't eating and are losing weight? Does the medication really help at all or are we imagining things? What needs to change at home to accommodate your needs? We know this journey dealing with ADHD is not going to be easy, and it's going to continue to throw all of us some curve balls, but as I told you the night we discussed your diagnosis, you are not alone and we are here to do whatever we can to help you.
So, you've been visiting with a psychologist, as have we. You are really working on controlling your impulsivity, and we are really working on controlling our frustrations. We are focusing on redirecting you and teaching you better ways of responding to others. We are constantly working on remembering that you have a true, real medical disability, even if it is so very invisible. It plays tricks on us, Banner, because we see you as a highly functioning kid with such great skills in so many ways. You are one cool, funny, sweet, smart, caring, compassionate, thoughtful kid! It's hard to remember not to yell at you when you are more interested in the clouds during a soccer game as the ball is approaching you. It's hard not to rush you in the morning when we have asked no less than 10 times to brush your teeth already - when you are busy fiddling with any random crumb or knick-knack you find! It's hard not to feel an intense annoyance when homework that should take you 10 minutes takes an hour because you write one letter and then forget what you were writing or start examining the eraser or pick at the pencil lead. Staying on topic, staying on task, finishing a chore, completing a request can be a big challenge for you. You'll often forget what we asked or think you did it, but you didn't. Sometimes you twist what you heard - either purposefully or not. You say things without thinking of how it will affect others - mostly towards Quinn, but sometimes friends. You once told me in a loud voice while your play date was in the room that you wished your friend would go away to the middle of the ocean and never come back. The social aspect of this disorder is huge, and it cannot be overlooked simply because you don't have to work hard in school.
Like I said before, you are currently doing very well in school. You don't really have to pay much attention at this point, which is why I worry about you. You have work pile up sometimes, because you aren't finishing what you need to. You miss out on other activities because you didn't finish the work. And, one day the material will get more challenging, and it won't come as easy for you. You will need to work hard and pay attention. So, we march on - trying to help you figure out what will work. But, in the meantime, you are a charming little thing who can weasel his way out of trouble, who will bring me notes home from school that say, "I love you, Mom!" who will draw a rainbow and give it to me when you get home from school, who will want to spend any free time with cousins or at Grandma's house, who will show appreciation and gratitude at the most random moments. (Just a couple weeks ago, you climbed in my bed at 11:15pm and said, "Mommy, do you know what I like more than any gift I get each year on my birthday? A party. Thanks for letting me have a party every year."
And, speaking of party... we celebrated your big day this past Friday. It was a great time and the easiest party I've ever planned! We went to Free Play for your video game themed party, complete with the Nintendo control cake of your choosing. There's nothing you like more than free screen time. Lately, you are into Minecraft, Lego Dimensions, and you sneak Roblox if I'm not watching you (I don't like that game and that you can chat with others we don't know). You could watch other gamers on YouTube all day if I'd let you - which I don't! In fact, this summer Daddy and I have banned hand-held screens (no iPhones, no iPads), and you have to earn your Xbox time with various chores we have added to a chart for you. You have done VERY well with this system so far. You are motivated to complete these tasks (which includes 20 minutes of reading/handwriting each day, clearing the kitchen table, putting shoes away, getting dressed and ready for the day, taking care of your "zone" each day, and completing two randomly selected chore wheel chores). You and Quinn are working hard to get your free time, and so far we are all winning!
Quinn is your buddy and worst enemy rolled into one. He gets on your nerves faster than anyone on the planet, yet he is always a great play mate and helper when you allow it. That boy is so adoring of you, and he just wants your attention. You are just so damn picky about when you give it to him. It's usually all about what is convenient for you. If he can help you find Lego pieces during a play set assembly, he is your guy. But, the minute he wants to help you actually assemble, he is banned from the table as quickly as he was invited. He started sleeping in your bed while Daddy was campaigning this year for US Congress. It was easier for me to put you two to bed together, so we started that and it's continued on because you LOVE having a room mate in there with you. But, if he gets on your side of the bed or won't stop talking, you HATE having him in there. You won't let him pick the song in the car or choose which show to watch or even hold the darn remote... but the minute you need to go upstairs to get something, he's your best pal and you need him to come with you (because you hate going anywhere by yourself, especially upstairs). If he needs you to come with him, forget it. He's on his own. If he went to a party and got a favor, you cry when he won't share... until he does. If YOU go to a party and get a favor, there will be NO sharing whatsoever and he will cry the rest of the afternoon. It's all typical sibling stuff, but man is it draining!
You speak baby-talk to Knox, even though we've asked you not to many times. But, you see him as a creature to help and still celebrate his successes. You pretty much adore him and he adores you. Yet, if he takes your things or won't leave you alone when you are playing a game or watching a show, you are quick to yell at him. "No, Knox!" I'm used to hearing you demand. Usually he is easy to redirect, but you just don't know how much those two little brothers of yours want your undivided attention.
I'm the same as them, Banner. I want your undivided attention. It's hard to get sometimes, but it's true. You are amazing. When we get time together where you are just IN it with me, we thrive. It's when the other minutia of the day gets in the way that the chaos ensues. My most favorite times with you are on our special dates (like Six Flags or Thunderbird skating) or at the very end of the day when you are going to sleep and those sweet thoughts start unrolling. We get to hold hands and just be. We get to snuggle and sing and think of the happiest thoughts. We get to think about whether Fontina will come that night if you've lost a tooth (you're up to 6 gone right now and one loose one up top). We send silly text messages to Grandma or Aunt Kira or ask Siri silly questions. You tell me about someone who bothered you or what you're most looking forward to the next day. You reveal what questions are on your mind or what you are worried about. It's in those moments that we reconnect and get to remember that what's really important is not how many times I asked you to put your shoes away or how long we argued over your handwriting; it's that we are in the moment together, paying attention to each other, loving our time together and knowing we can trust each other to always be there. I just want to BE with you. I have always longed to just BE with you. And when I look back at those early weeks of your life, sometimes I wish I could have a do-over. I would go back and do it right, do it better. I say that with a lump in my throat and tears rolling down my face because I truly wish I could give us both a better start early on. Yet, I know we don't get a do-over. So, I want to make every day with you right the first time. Forgive me, though, my sweet Angel Baby. Every day I'm learning with you, and I'm doing the best I can.
Last night, you spiked a high fever. Yes, you got sick on your birthday after an early morning soccer game, a donut breakfast, a day at the park downtown with a food truck lunch and a snow cone to top it off, a visit to the museum, and then Landry's party at the splash park. You were lethargic and hot and declining cupcakes! You had 103.2 fever, the highest you've ever had. And, thus, worrying began. Some things will never change. No matter where you are, what you do, who you're with, how old you get... I will worry about you. That's my job and my honor - to be the one who will always worry about you. Seven years later, and I still wish I had all the answers, still wish I knew the exact thing to say or do. . . just wish time would slow down for all of that to happen!
Banner Boone, I love you more than you will ever know. And even though you will argue that you love me more, it certainly just can't be possible. I have loved being your mommy, and I'm grateful for this date, June 9th, that brought you to me and made me your mommy. I wish you a very happy birthday! I hope you feel better soon so you can get on with the start of your 8th year with health, happiness, laughter, learning, strength, friendships, fun, and lots of love!
Happy 7th Birthday, Angel Baby!
I love you!
Forever & Always,
Mommy
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| Jillian, Josie, & Evie |
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| Landon, Smith, Banner, Alex |
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| Michelle |
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We read your "I Believe" before you went to sleep.
I tucked you in and whispered, "I will always love you, my six-year-old." |
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I snapped this picture of you - your first night as a 7-year-old.
You can see you are sweating, trying to break that fever. š |
