2 + 2 = Hope
The things that have landed at our feet as parents over the past year have been heavy. Too heavy.
My oldest child has struggled this entire year academically. I wouldn’t necessarily tip the scales in his favor on that being ALL pandemic/learning environment, but it certainly has exasperated the situation.
He’s 16. He has ADHD. He’s fairly unmotivated to function unless it has anything to do with NBA2K or Door Dash. That’s just where we’re at right now. This too shall pass.
As my social child, I’ve worried about him differently. I saw him pull away from things fairly early on that he loved, like soccer. I’ve worried about his emotional wellbeing constantly.
Academically there has always been a need to push him a bit harder than he pushes himself, but that comes with the territory of being a parent, so I don’t pay much mind to that piece of the puzzle.
As the months have progressed, it has become more and more evident that he isn’t thriving academically. The inability to be in school is having an impact on him that isn’t the same as his brother. The distractions are bigger. The gaps are wider. The consistent declination in his progress is becoming more and more obvious and harder to compensate for as time goes on. And the concern that if we don’t find some middle ground we’re headed nowhere good is becoming more and more overwhelming.
Our connectivity to his guidance counselor has been ongoing. She is an immeasurable resource and SUPPORT to us as well as Ty. She has shown up for all of us at a time when everyone is constantly spread too thin. We’ve made plans and watched progress. We’ve discussed options and given him tools and resources to help him bridge the gaps.
Long story short, we show up. Every day, all day. And yes, like you, we are completely exhausted.
Like all of us who are trying to figure out how to navigate this land mine we are tiptoeing through with this pandemic, we make sure that our kids have every opportunity to succeed, even in this imperfect environment they are trying to do it in. Not overachieve, succeed. Learn. Grow. Be okay.
The bar is fairly low for success right now, but if we could maybe get it high enough to limbo under instead of barely step over it, that would be great.
It wasn’t working for Ty. No matter what we tried to tweak, everything was pointing to the fact that he needed to be in school four days. And since he is on an ed plan, that request is possible for us.
Now, here’s the thing…
This year, this ONE YEAR, has wreaked havoc. Hard, altering havoc. The slide I’ve watched my kids take into isolated comfort has kept me awake way too many nights to count. Will they be able to acclimate back effectively? Will they rise above this at their ages and be able to communicate face to face without incident? Will they be able to reconnect as human beings again. The worries list is infinite right now as a parent, but to watch the impact of what one year has undone in our kids is mind blowing.
We had a conversation with Ty before the holidays about him going back into school four days. He bucked. Because the thought of actually going to school four days a week now feels like climbing Everest. How is that even possible? Kids go to school, that’s just what they do. It’s their social life. It’s where they learn so much more than academics. It’s where they figure things out about themselves and their world and their peers and how to grow up to become who they become. Good, bad or indifferent, kids NEED school in all its parts.
We gave him a few weeks to make some changes we would help him with and then we would have to make a call. We got to report cards last week and the decision was obvious. The request was formally made and we told him such.
This time his reaction wasn’t the same. He got very sullen and sad. As if he was conceding to something. He didn’t flex. He didn’t handle it the way he handles things he doesn’t want to do. He retreated inward. And Ty Brillon does many things, but retreating inward isn’t one of them. He’s wired to act out not in, and if I didn’t know that about him because I’m his mother, I’ve had an extraordinarily educated and well respected neuropsychologist explain such to me in detail.
This week was his first week back in four days. He’s Cohort A, so Monday and Tuesday are his two days in school. Today when I picked him up I asked how his day was and his reaction left me without words.
“It’s not even that bad. Ya know what’s cool mom? I get to see people now I haven’t seen in a year. I got to see Jack today, which was so great.”
I felt the tears well up in my eyes and demanded they stay in their ducts even though they tried fighting their way out.
We had a beautiful conversation on the ride home from school about how much easier his life is going to be by being in school now. He recognized things that he doesn’t have to worry about any more. Things I don’t even understand are challenging for him.
It felt like he could see a light at the end of a tunnel for the first time, and I’m not even sure he realized he was in the tunnel to begin with.
Every single day of this school year has been hard for him. As I’ve said, some of that is a Ty issue. But there are so many parts that aren’t.
Today I watched some of those burdens literally fall away for him. It broke my heart and gave me hope at the same time.
Our kids are struggling. Hard. In ways we have absolutely no idea. The bigs and the littles all the same. The reach of this pandemic is deep, and our kids deserve for us to dig in on their behalf. We are all working too hard. We are all being asked and expected to carry a heavier load than is manageable. There is absolutely no disputing that.
But today, I watched my son thrive for the first time in a year. Not because he brought home good grades or was the first to finish every assignment. Just simply because today was the first day in a year I saw hope in his eyes.
As we all do what we believe is in the best interests of our children, please remember that they don’t know how to do all of this even more so than we don’t know how to do all of this. They all need something different. And tonight, I hope you take a little time to think about what yours need. Not just academically, but to be whole human beings.
