During a trip to the vet, Britain (at 20 months old) decided to change places with the cat in the cat carrier. Such incidents were routine in “Britain’s World.”
Our 30-year-old son, his cat, and his dog just left after a 20-hour, 43-minute visit. The house echoes in silence as the whirlwind of energy he brought with him dissipates into stillness. My senses register profound emptiness. I take a deep breath, settle before my keyboard, and realize I’ve never given myself enough credit for parenting this amazing creature, who is my antithesis in many ways.
- I am an introvert; he is an extrovert
- I cherish my alone time; he invites friends everywhere (even into the bathroom with him when he was a child)
- I examine the instructions; he intuits where things go and how they work
- I love reading books; he loves playing Ultimate
- I am always cold; he is always hot (except when I was pregnant with him; I was always hot)
- I stroll; he bounces
- I follow a plan; he flies by the seat of his pants
- I’m early; he’s late (except he was born 6 weeks early because he couldn’t wait to get out of such a cramped space)
- I play it safe; he is the poster boy for Balzout
- I save; he spends
- I claim to want more adventure; he claims to want more order
Parenting such a soul from birth to 30 has been the quintessential adventure (be careful what you claim to want). For years, I felt like a failure because nothing I did with him seemed to work out as planned. I couldn’t get him to read a book, sit still, be quiet, do his homework, or remember Mother’s Day.
I thought it was my job to teach him my way of doing things, to pass down my perspectives and values, to mold him into an acceptable human being. I realize now that it was his job to drag me, kicking and screaming, out of my certainty into the Land of Endless Possibilities. He took me from a world of two-dimensional black and white into high def, 3D, full-spectrum color. The experience of being his mother has shaken me to the core and challenged every last thing I thought I knew about myself, life, and the Universe.
When he moved away and left us with an empty nest, a sense of order and calm returned. Life became more predictable, the pace less frantic. There has been more time to reflect on what I learned from him.
So, when he visits and brings with him the ADHD Vortex, every cell of my body begins to vibrate at a higher frequency, and my world turns upside down within the first 30 seconds. Instantaneously my mind and body return to the altered state of Britain’s World.
This morning, as he drove away in a cloud of swirling, joyful energy, eager to meet up with his wife for a week in Cleveland, a tear escaped as I breathed a long sigh. I am so grateful for you, Son, and I love you so very much just the way you are. I also hope we never have to live under the same roof again.
Live long and prosper, Beloved Teacher! And never stop coming to visit.
Coach Barbie Dallmann 