2 hours in an airport.

I'm in an airplane right now. It's still insane to me that I can be online in an airplane 10,000 feet in the air.  I'm on my way to Orlando for a conference for 3 days. Until this morning I was ridiculously excited to spend 3 glorious nights alone in my own hotel room- eating, sleeping, exercising  reading, and learning on my own schedule.  Even my type A personality has worn tired of the strict schedule the Wood family is required to keep. Le sigh.

Anyway, this morning I started to get anxious. I'm not a big fan of flying in the first place; I;m not terrified I just don't really enjoy it.  I'm sad to be away from my baby who is days away from taking his first steps and no longer nurses. I told Matt that if he stands up and tries to walk I wanted him pushed down immediately. I was joking. Mostly. I will be pretty bummed if I happen to miss his first steps, though.

Even more than all of that is Levi. My sweet, spunky, spirited, beautiful Levi.  Sigh.  I get so nervous when I have to leave him. I'm not really sure why since I'm not really much better at calming his meltdowns these days, but I'm always sort of waiting for a phone call from home. And when the phone does ring from home, I always fear I will hear the tell-tale screams in the background.  I just. I worry.

So I found myself sitting in a practically empty airport 2 hours before my flight was to take off.  Apparently Wednesday @ 2pm isn't a hugely popular time to fly in January... who knew?  I picked up my Kindle and started reading a book I had downloaded earlier this week in anticipation of my quiet time.  The book is a conversation between two mothers, one younger and one older, about mothering in community, about the guilt and frustrations that can come along with mothering. And more importantly, about some hope for the future.  And then, BAM. I'm in tears. I did my best to quietly wipe my tears before anyone could see, but each page brought new waves of emotions.

When I hit the chapter about "Out of the Box" children I couldn't contain it any longer.  They were talking about me. About my first-born.  And it stung.  Whatever labels might be placed on Levi someday, I'm realizing that my first job is to love him and parent him with the Grace that I desire. The grace we all receive from God.

One of the author's says, "May times we heard the words, 'You aren't spanking your children enough!' And yet my darling little Nathan, who we later found had ADHD and OCD, always responded to me when I was gentle, loving, and filling his cup. He needed patience, and he needed me to like him, and believe in him."  Ouch.

How often am I not showing my child that, through all of his behaviors, I love him and like him?  That I am on his team.

Everyone has ideas about how Matt & I should "handle" Levi and his behaviors.  Some have even suggested that most of his behavior probably just has to do with "us" since he doesn't meltdown during x, y, or z.  I try to respond kindly to those suggestions, to remember that others don't live with him, that Levi feels comfortable melting down with us, that we are generally the ones that are bringing him to challenging situations. Anyway, no matter how well intentioned they are, we don't always feel encouragement or community from friends and family when it comes to that sort of stuff. Having a kid who's "out of the box" can, in fact be really isolating.  It can be lonely in this section of motherhood, and reading about someone else's experience with similar emotions was really liberating and validating.

No matter what evaluations, doctors, or tests say, Levi needs to know that Matt & I are happy with him. That we are proud to be his parents. That we are on his team.  Because you know what? Sometimes this world is actually really scary and overwhelming, and when you're 3 and things feel out of control all the time?  How else might you respond?

For the moment our life with Levi is filled with skinny jeans, lots of squeezing, a good schedule, solid sleep that we can't mess with, lots of preparation for new things, and the occasional meltdown that leaves me curled up in a ball and crying. But it's also filled with laughter at his antics, the joy that comes from hearing him laugh, awe at his natural musical and athletic talent, and a heart that bursts with love for my first born.  And you know what, that is all okay.  This is where we are right now.

As much as all of this thinking makes me want to go home and squeeze him until he makes me let go, I know the next few days away will be good for me. And hopefully good for Levi, and Matt, and Jonah as they enjoy a few days of "bro" time.  Deep breath.