Finding Ninee » Sharing our parenting and special needs stories with heart and humor.

Forgiveness

Today was less than perfect in the way that first-world, middle-class probably-autism visiting an over-crowded human cesspool quickly becomes less than perfect is.  Robert and I decided to run some much-needed errands in an attempt to find new Nikes for Tucker’s ginormous extra-wide stinky loved feet.  Robert suggested we go to an outlet mall. I stupidly agreed.

I suppose we should have been clued into the fact that the day would suck when immediately after parking, we avoided witnessing an honest-to-God-in-real-life fist fight.  Hello, high-school flashbacks and drunk people.  They were fighting over a parking spot.  Really.

Anyway, we made it to Nike, found the only pair of 10C-wides in the bunch that weren’t ass-ugly, and made it to the check-out line after 1,000 struggles with rescuing Tucker from hiding in clothing racks. I told Robert that Tucker and I would meet him outside.  I then texted him that we’d be in Banana Republic.  He never got the text.

For the next 40 minutes, I dealt with Tucker wanting to treat every single clothing rack as an “all-clean car wash” rack.  He hid inside them, it was hard to see him…and my anxiety reached heart-attack proportions.  He hid behind racks of clothes in an over-crowded store over and over and over.  And over again.  Adding to my depression that previously-my-sized Banana Republic pants are no longer my size, store patrons were becoming increasingly annoyed when flipping through a rack of on-sale blouses led to finding my enthusiastic boy moving said blouses around from the other direction.

It meant that we left the store, (me) still annoyed that Robert hadn’t yet come to our rescue, and that Tucker wanted to play with the landscaped rocks.  See the leaves.  Experience the wonder that I so often write about.  It also meant that I was sweaty and annoyed and done with the day.

It meant that I yelled at my son.  It meant that I made him cry.  Me.  My baby’s biggest advocate, the person who tells him all the time that he is my favorite person on the planet was so annoyed, so done, so pissed off…that I yelled at him.  Harshly.  “Stop it!”  I made him cry.

I felt terrible about it and pulled him to a quiet corner, cupped his tear-stained cheeks in my hands, asked for eye-contact and apologized.  Eight times.  I don’t know whether he got it or not.

Forgiveness.  

To this moment, seven hours later, I feel horrible, guilt-ridden and awful.  I yelled at my son.  I am an asshole.

And yet.

He’s already forgiven me.  My sweet little baby was able to remember “Aye! Matey!” and be a pirate.  He was able to smile and laugh and giggle with me.  He forgave me.

Tonight, after Robert read to him and we came back to our room for back-tickles, Tucker looked into my eyes, smiled, and without words, forgave me again.  I received redemption through his innocent smile.  He reminded me that life, with all of its imperfect moments, is full of perfect moments.  That the imperfect ones are forgiven.  That the perfect ones mean more overall.  My little boy smiled at me tonight.

He forgave me and made me whole again.

I count that as a perfect moment.


by Kristi Campbell

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  • Kathy Radigan - I so feel your frustration and pain. There have been times, usually when I’m as fried as my kids where I have yelled, I hate it because I always feel I’m older and should know better, but I am human. I am also always amazed how quickly my children forget my transgression and we move on. Big stores and crowds are never happy places for me or my kids!!! Glad you were both able to put it behind you. Your son is a total cutie!!! So nice to find your site.May 27, 2013 – 12:53 amReplyCancel

  • Melissa - Just wrote something similar this last week. All the stupid frustrations and dealing with the real world, and I wind up taking it out on my kids, who were doing nothing but the same thing they do every day. I apologize a lot as well, and within minutes, they are back, bouncing and happy and wanting to play with me. It’s a heartbreaking balancing act.May 27, 2013 – 1:44 amReplyCancel

  • Misty @ Meet the Cottons - i have a philosophy about shopping trips. they take lots and lots of practice. i often expect my kiddos to mirror me when we go into a store, they are five and six so i’m completely unrealistic, right? but, i think that we have to be stern with our kids and let them know what our expectations are so they will not be that wild kid running through the store. something that works pretty well for us is going over the rules before we get out of the car. no running, no jumping, no screaming, yada yada yada. we also usually add “we’re not here to get toys today” because my kids always think it’s toy time when we get to a store. it can’t be easy for a child to stand still in a store while you shop for clothes or groceries, all the while knowing that there is a toy department hiding somewhere near by. and every store has toys these days! and i’m probably harder on my kids than most, because i’m not giving them a free pass for bad behavior because of their age or developmental delay. i am a big believer that all things take practice, and that has to include correct behavior in public, right? sometimes, i feel like i spend entire shopping trips saying no and stop. but, i hope that eventually, i won’t have to remind my kids to behave, it’ll just happen naturally. when all else fails, they go into a cart!May 27, 2013 – 7:38 amReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - Oh don’t beat yourself up for this Kristi. Trust me you such a great mother and we all just have our moments and you aren’t alone. That said, I learned that taking two kids clothes shopping can truly be just a downright horror show. I either go knowing what I want and make it quick and in and out with them or I let Kevin babysit, while I go by myself, because it is a lot less stressful this way. Great linkup and I am so going to add one of my posts. Thanks and Happy Memorial Day today!! 🙂May 27, 2013 – 7:50 amReplyCancel

  • The Sadder But Wiser Girl - We all have those moments when it’s too much and we lose it. It’s all part of parenting. Parenting a special needs child is hard, and lord knows though we try like crazy that we are not perfect! Who wants to be perfect anyway, how boring… He’s already moved on-he knows that his mommy loves him very much.May 27, 2013 – 9:55 amReplyCancel

  • Lori Lavender Luz - Oh, gosh, there’s nothing that can turn a mom into a maniac quite as fast as the fear of having lost her child. Be gentle with yourself — once your body gets amped up like that it takes superhuman strength — or at least 10 minutes (or a cocktail) to bring it down again to reasonableness.

    Add into that a fist fight and the hell that is an outlet mall (on a 3-day weekend, no less) and you have the perfect ingredients for a mama meltdown.

    And still, you find a perfect moment from the ashes :-). That is the mark of a mindful person, a good mom. So happy to have you in this month’s Perfect Moment Monday celebration.

    (Kudos to Tucker for his part in the perfection!)May 27, 2013 – 1:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Joy - You are not a good mom because you never yell at your kid but because you do sometimes but realise it was wrong immediately, apologise and feel bad about it. Hugs!!May 27, 2013 – 4:24 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - You described that guilt-ridden, painful feeling that a mom (or dad) feels after we lose our shit with our kids…oh how I hate myself after, how I can’t believe my child will forgive me, but they do, because they love us and know how much we love them and even though they were upset with us at the time, they do understand why we yelled. We yell because we DO love them so much…if it were someone else’s kid who was hiding in the clothing racks (and by the way, my son did that ALL the time), then we wouldn’t care as much. Our own kids push our buttons so much more, because we care about them so so much. I think I just used the word “much” way too many times, but anyway, I hope I got my point across (2nd glass of memorial day wine is to blame…)May 27, 2013 – 8:52 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Emily,
    We do we do we do love them so so so much. And it simply unforgettably sucks ass when we lose our shit. I still feel badly and it’s been more than 24 hours. Stupid me, here, still apologizing to a boy who does not have the language to understand. I suppose the up-side is that I endured a super-boring game of “fetch” where I was the dog and had to (over and over and over and over and over again) fetch the ball, pant like a dog, have my hands just so – like paws, I suppose – to have Tucker pat me on the head and say “good boy.” I didn’t even bother telling him that I’m a girl. Because hello, imaginative play.May 27, 2013 – 9:43 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Joy,
    Thank you. Hugs (big ones) right back.May 27, 2013 – 9:44 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Lori,
    Thank you for recognizing the perfect moment in the ashes of despair and grief. That means a lot. A lot.May 27, 2013 – 9:45 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Sadder Sarah,
    Too true – we are not perfect. I wish we were, though.May 27, 2013 – 9:49 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - I’m going to combine now (again hating non-nested comments)…
    —
    Janine,
    So glad you’re linking up! I’m behind but will get to it now.
    —–
    Misty,
    I get so so so sick of saying “STOP” (which is Tucker’s word of the month as we’re trying to get him to express when it’s too much, too loud, etc. We usually resort to the cart as well. This trip, there were no carts. A lesson for sure.
    —-
    Melissa,
    I read your post and loved it. You are wise and brilliant.
    ——–
    Kathy,
    Speaking of older…you do know that I am 44 with a 3 year old right? I, too, should be wiser than I am. I’m not. Thanks huge for sharing.May 27, 2013 – 9:52 pmReplyCancel

  • Kenya G. Johnson - Side note, I remember when the liberally size 6 at Ann Taylor Loft stopped fitting me 🙁 Now I don’t like going there anymore.

    So glad your day ended well. I think kids are so resilient. Don’t beat yourself up for having a normal mommy moment – which do seem to happen when dad is taking too long doing whatever it is they are doing.May 27, 2013 – 9:56 pmReplyCancel

  • Dani Ryan - I love how honest you are. We all reach our breaking point. I know I do. We make mistakes. We learn from them. And then we move on.

    You’re a fabulous mother, my friend. I hope you know that. And losing your crap now and then doesn’t make you any less fabulous. It makes you human.

    xoxoMay 27, 2013 – 10:10 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Kenya,
    I remember the size 6 at Ann Taylor, too! (with much fondness because f them). Kids are amazingly resilient but I also wonder whether I’m scaring him forever…thanks for the reassurance that it’s actually his DAD’s fault (not that you said that but um helloooo).May 27, 2013 – 10:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Dani,
    Thank you for the reminder that losing our crap (said more nicely than I’d have said) is human. I appreciate it.May 27, 2013 – 10:35 pmReplyCancel

  • Jean - Well. Outlet mall, first of all.

    Second, we cannot ever be perfect and the yell moments happen and our kids have to see them. WE have to see your moments too as your fellow parents in this community we have made online. You shared in a graceful way and I appreciate that.May 27, 2013 – 10:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Terrye - Collin and I had one of those days today. Every time he’s eat something, he’d stuff SO much into his face that he’d gag. I yelled, he cried and spewed food everywhere. And, yes, later I sat him on my lap and apologized and hugged him and he smiled. He reminds me so much of a puppy.May 27, 2013 – 10:38 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Terrye,
    UGH to the stuffing food. I’m so sorry you had one of those days today. Their smiles are our redemption and puppies? Awww….hugs friend. Huge ones.May 27, 2013 – 10:58 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Jean,
    Yes, outlet mall. I should have made my husband take him alone, but fear that he’d not have returned home with my baby. Ugh to that. We do have moment. I thank you for reminding me.May 27, 2013 – 10:59 pmReplyCancel

  • Deb @ Urban Moo Cow - Beautiful, my dear. We’ve all been there. It has nothing to do with autism or outlet malls and everything to do with the human condition. We forgive you. Not that it matters, but we do. That’s the royal “we”. 😉May 27, 2013 – 11:20 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Aw, Deb…thank you. Thank you thank you thank you. I love the royal “we.” So much.May 27, 2013 – 11:24 pmReplyCancel

  • Menopausalmother - This is so heart-achingly beautiful! We always feel like lousy parents when we lose our tempers in frustration and yell at our kids–I have been through this many times over the years and spent plenty of time crying in the bathroom because I thought surely I was the worst mother in the world. But your sweet boy won’t remember any of it–he will only remember the love, the hugs and the smiles you always give him. Honestly–my kids no longer remember the bad stuff–just the love and the good times we had. It will be the same for you, too!May 27, 2013 – 11:58 pmReplyCancel

  • Mombo - awww, bless you so much, Kristi – bless you
    <3May 28, 2013 – 12:02 amReplyCancel

  • MJm - Hello there my friend.

    I just want you to know that you truly are a wonderful person…with such a beautiful heart…and honestly this world would be such a better place if more people thought and acted like you do.

    I’m sure your son knows…just as we all do…that you’re not a mean person and was just experiencing a moment of weakness and frustration and that is why things played out as they did.

    We all have our moments where we snap…and act out in anger it’s just human nature…but it’s what we do afterwards that makes us who we are.

    Thanks for sharing a part of your life with us…and for helping us see that we too may need to ask for forgiveness from someone we have hurt…you kick donkey.May 28, 2013 – 12:24 amReplyCancel

  • Diane - The fact that you felt such wrenching pain from this says all I need to know. It tells me that you are a loving, caring Mom. Who just happens to be HUMAN. With all the failings that go along with that designation. 🙂
    I’ll fall back on my favourite quote (That I just shared with someone a day or so ago – was it you?):
    Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says, “I’ll try again tomorrow.May 28, 2013 – 12:39 amReplyCancel

  • Yvonne - Kristi,as most people have already said, there’s not a mother who hasn’t yelled at one time or other. We are all human and things trigger us.

    Guilt is really counter-productive. We punish ourselves with it in the hope it will stop us punishing our children by repeating our “bad” behaviour. But punishment just does not work. I can still remember how guilty I felt the first time I yelled at my older daughter. She was two and wouldn’t put her shoes on, we were running late (always a trigger for me, especially since I expected a sarcastic comment from the person we were about to visit.) She cried, I hated myself and vowed never again. Sadly, that self-hatred erupted in yelling many more times.

    Since then I’ve learned self-compassion – and guess what – nowadays our house is much, much calmer. I have loving relationships with both my daughters who are now in their teens. We’ve discussed those early days and my daughters, like your son, have forgiven me for not being perfect.Self-forgiveness isn’t always easy, but perhaps you could decide you’ve been punished enough?May 28, 2013 – 6:49 amReplyCancel

  • nothingbythebook - As a few of the others have said–they always forgive us long before we forgive ourselves. I actually think this is one of the key parents to “gently” parent or attachment parent–or whatever label you want to give it: it’s not so much about them and how they turn out… it’s about the people we want to be. Who we are.

    Often, when I’ve had a yell moment… an hour, two later, I don’t even remember what made me angry. But I remember how I reacted and I feel like crap…May 28, 2013 – 10:13 amReplyCancel

  • Stephanie @ Mommy, for real. - This is beautiful, friend. I could relate to it so very much, and I have yelled at my kids before too, and it always feels horrible. But it happens. It’s life. Part of being a good parent, in my opinion, is allowing our kids to see that we are human. We make mistakes in front of them, and we apologize. We are helping them navigate the world of emotions.

    I also feel your depression about the size 4s not fitting anymore. I think, at the very moment you were at Banana Republic, I had cast my size 4 shorts onto the floor. I could fit in them, barely, but talk about a wedgie. Not OK.
    Anyway, I digress. This post was so vivid and honest, and I really, really loved it. And shared it… xoMay 28, 2013 – 10:18 amReplyCancel

  • mama lola - oh mama, so been there. my blog is full of stories and tales of the struggles in mothering that i have felt. i too carry the heavy load that is mother’s guilt for hours, sometimes days after something has happened. my kids, bounce back so quickly and move on. it is truly amazing watching them.

    all the best. and just remember you are not alone in this.May 28, 2013 – 11:25 amReplyCancel

  • Sylvia - I’ll bet there isn’t one parent that hasn’t done that at least a few times in their lives! Even great parents like you! I personally have been there and done that many, many times over multiplied by nine! (I have nine kids) I always feel guilty for weeks and if I think back to times even over 30 years ago, (my oldest is 36) I can still feel guilty for days about it! Funny thing is my kids never remember those incidents!
    Don’t worry!May 28, 2013 – 11:32 amReplyCancel

  • Alexa (Kat Biggie) - I wish I could say that I never yell at my children, but I find myself doing it too often. I’ve tried so hard to be the calm and rational mother, but there are just so moments, when I am at the end of my rope, and I just yell. And then I hate myself. And I wish I hadn’t done it. But I am so thankful that they ARE so forgiving!May 28, 2013 – 12:23 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerri - Wait a minute, for a moment in time you were a ‘normal’ mother frustrated with her son having a typical pain in the ass moment in a mall like all, make that most, “normal” 3YO boys hide in the clothes rack and make little terrors of themselves….and you are beating yourself up?

    Guess what, you are allowed to have dumbass moments, like almost regretting not having sex with Billy Idol. But you are not allowed to beat yourself up for reprimanding Tucker.

    Just because he may-or-may-not have PPD and the fact that he does have global developmental delay does not mean you stop expecting him to let you shop for a pair of pants.

    The fact that the pants didn’t fit, even more reason to snap.

    But cut yourself a break and pour a glass of wine. Just because you didn’t see the wonder through Tucker’s eyes for a moment does not mean you have to turn in your perfect mommy card.

    I am pretty sure the perfect mommy cards are non-refundable anyways.May 28, 2013 – 12:39 pmReplyCancel

  • Roshni - Really, Kristi?! Coz then, I’m the most horrible person ever. I yell at my boys almost everyday! I believe we are just human and sometimes we make mistakes and yell and sometimes, they ask for it, and they don’t listen to reason, and we get frustrated and we yell.
    It all resolves as long as we show them more love than yelling! I doubt whether this will affect his psyche or give him any doubts about your love for him!May 28, 2013 – 3:20 pmReplyCancel

  • lostintranslation - Oh, I know how that feels! It happens to me too – I just lose it and then I feel so bad afterward (even though I know it happens to a lot of mommies). And yes, I’m also so thankful our kids are so forgiving. Btw, I read a great post on yelling yesterday on handsfreemama.com.May 28, 2013 – 4:47 pmReplyCancel

  • Katia - Oh, I hear you. Your emotion was so beautifully expressed here. I remember leaving a comment on your first “Our Land” post telling a similar story about how I hurt Ben’s feelings and you were very comforting in your response. I think you told me to forgive myself. I encourage you to do the same. Tucker already has.May 28, 2013 – 8:51 pmReplyCancel

  • Jen - Oh do I know that event all too well. Even today, when I told my husband that I took Isaiah to the dr today because things didn’t seem quite right, he said “It’s so weird, you look at him and he seems completely normal, but then you remember, he’s got all this stuff going on.
    It’s so easy to just lash out, but the pain and guilt it leaves behind are not so easily removed. HOWEVER it hurts us more than it hurts them. Because we love them more than we lash out. That is what they know, that is what is so important.
    It’s awesome that you wrote this.May 28, 2013 – 10:54 pmReplyCancel

  • Kimberly - Oh sweets.
    We have all had these parenting moments. All of us. You’re not a bad mom nor an asshole. Believe me.
    Kids do need to be told that what they are doing is wrong so they learn good and bad behaviors.
    In turn, it makes us feel terrible.
    Kids are so loving. He understands forgiveness and more importantly, you taught him the importance of it.
    xoxMay 29, 2013 – 6:11 amReplyCancel

  • Kristi - You guys. I simply adore you adore you adore you. I apologize for not having nested comments so that I can reply to each of you right underneath your messages of encouragement and awesomeness. (also, do you guys CARE that I don’t have nested comments? It makes a back and forth conversation easier but I’m not sure whether you come back here to see if I replied or if you just are cool with me commenting on your blogs.).

    Huge loves to all. And happy Wednesday!May 29, 2013 – 10:20 amReplyCancel

  • Shay - You are so obviously such a loving, wonderful mother. You can’t hold onto this stuff…you’re doing a fantastic job!!May 30, 2013 – 5:03 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Shay,
    You are awesome. Thanks!June 1, 2013 – 9:03 amReplyCancel

  • Stephanie (www.whencrazymeetsexhaustion.com) - You made me cry 🙁 The sheer innocence of children, their ability to forgive AND forget–ahh, they’re just perfection, aren’t they?

    No. They’re not!

    They can also be frustrating patience-suckers and overwhelming. You are NOT an asshole, Mama! We all have our breaking point, and “STOP IT” surely doesn’t make you anything less than an imperfect parent trying her very best.

    Hugs!June 2, 2013 – 9:40 amReplyCancel

  • Kristi Campbell - Stephanie,
    I’m sorry that I made you cry!! What an awesome comment. They truly can be perfection AND they can be frustrating patience-suckers. So. True. Thanks for the hugs!!June 2, 2013 – 4:54 pmReplyCancel

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