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

My Kid Forgave Me

You know “the look.” I think everybody does. Sometimes, it’s privately shared with a friend when somebody says something to remind you of a personal dialogue.

It’s shared with a spouse, hoping to convey “get me out of here” or “stop being such an ass.”

It can be shared with a sibling, when a particular eyebrow placement is able to say the words “For the love of God, here she goes again,” or “I love this story!” or, “um…did Dad actually just say that?” and even “…you’re a douche and I can still beat you up if I need to, weeniebutt.”

The look conveys thoughts. Messages.

Import, even.

Special needs moms share the look – a savoir when trapped between other moms, when somebody innocently suggests that “all kids do that,” or says “what’s wrong with him?”

It serves as an “I’m not alone” thank you when a friend is there to buffer the hurt that comes from Super Mom giving the look – the one that’s full of judgment and ickiness because my child isn’t behaving to her standards.

Disappointed Face Cartoon

The look can be many things, good and bad, and spans many relationships. It extends itself selflessly between friendships, parenthood, marriage, co-workers, and to our children at times.

It can come from our children. The look from our kids can mean “help me,” or it can mean “did you just hear me fart because that’s funny!”

Or, it could mean “Why don’t you understand, mom?”

It sucks when it says “Why don’t you understand my words, Mom, because you, above everybody, understand my words…”

It sucks when it says,

“Help me.”

Tucker gave me a look like that this week. It was full of disappointment and frustration and was due to my inability to properly interpret his request. Of course there have been many moments when Tucker has said something and I don’t understand him. They suck. But, on this particular day, and during this particular request, it was the first time in which my little boy looked at me with anger, hurt, and – dare I say it – defeat.

Defeat.

I had NO idea what Tucker was saying, and he knew it. He’s known it before, but, this time, he knew it, and felt badly about it.

He was watching TV while I made breakfast, and a commercial came on for a show. I couldn’t see what he was talking about when he said “want this!” So I turned off the stove, went to the TV and asked what it was. By the time I got there, the commercial was over and Disney Jr. was onto the next commercial – Mickey.

Me: “You want Mickey?”

Tucker: “NO! I want this!”

“This” wasn’t on any longer (!) obviously so I asked him to help me know what “this” was.

Tucker: “Chascht Opft!”

Me: “Blast off?”

Tucker: “Not Bchascht Oft, Chascht Opft!!!”

Me: “Chase off?”

Tucker: “NO chashe ofpt, chascht optf!!!”

Me: “Show me? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

Tucker: “No say sorry! You no do it!” (because “sorry” is reserved when you hurt your friends, obviously)

Me: (thinking)

Tucker (insert TheLook, and the defeat, and my heartbreak): “I can’t do it. You do it. You say. You try.”

And then, he put his fingers to his lips the way he knows when trying to say “phone” for the “F” in it (that only works for “phone”).  And tried to help me do the same. With my fingers, on my lips, so that I might “say it.”

It broke my heart. My baby told me that it was too hard to say what he wanted to say. He told me that his words were too hard and that I should try. As if he thought I knew what he wanted and simply wouldn’t give it to him because he couldn’t say it, and, that if I could say it, maybe he could just say YES and would get to watch whatever Disney Jr. show it was that he wanted to watch…

I had no idea.

Fuck.

I didn’t think that day would  come just yet.

And maybe, it hasn’t. Because if there’s one thing about kids – all kids – to include typically developing kids, special needs kids, autism kids, delayed kids, kids (!), it’s that they’re totally resilient. More so than you. More so than me. More than all of us. Kids forgive. They forget, and they move on.

What a lesson, huh?

Kids move on.

While Tucker was sad, and I was more sad that, for the first time, he exhibited the cognizance that maybe words come hard for him, he moved on. He moved on before I did. In fact, he moved on right away and I still feel unbelievably sad about the fact that he knew.

I didn’t expect him to realize that “he can’t.” Because most of the time, he doesn’t. Most of the time, when he’s inappropriate, or awkward, or whatever, he doesn’t notice. Doesn’t mind.

You know what happened? My kid forgave me.

Swiftly. And without regret. Without repercussions, without “fine, I’ll move on but you didn’t ‘get’ me.” He just moved on. To laugh, to play and to love me, he forgave me. 

Most people I know (including myself) would have held a grudge. 

When I’m hurt by friends, parents, siblings, or my spouse, it takes me a while to move on. How awful would it be if my own son took a while to move on or told me that he needed some time to “process” or to “get over” the fact that he relied on me to understand his words? But nope. He moved on. Rapidly and without regret, and without judgment.

He moved on. And I was still his favorite and he still got mad at me for other new things and didn’t bring the old thing up. Imagine that. Imagine being angry with your spouse, and not having anything else play into it.

Imagine feeling hurt, betrayed, and misunderstood and then, just moving on. That’s what Tucker did. What a lesson huh?

child forgiveness

And that, my friends, is what I’m thankful for this week. Because this is one lesson from my son that I think I need to relearn. That all of us need to relearn.

It’s been three days, and I still feel sad that I did not know what he was trying to say.

It’s been three days, and all Tucker knows is that we’ve shared pizza, hugs, tickles, laughter, some discipline, a bounce house, five playgrounds, a couch fort, and the best of the best of goodnights and goodmornings.

He knows that AllOfTheThings were mostly full of good.

And that we were, too.

My thankful and my wish for this week is that we learn something from the resilience of our children.

 

Ten Things of ThankfulYour hosts: A Fly on our (Chicken Coop) Wall, Amycake and the Dude, Considerings, Finding Ninee, Getting Literal, I Want Backsies, Mother of Imperfection, Rewritten, Thankful Me, The Wakefield Doctrine



  • Linda Atwell - Out One Ear - Oh Kristi: I hated it when mother’s of typical kids said, “all kids do that!” No. They. Don’t. Not in the same way. My son didn’t do things the same way. I could reason with him. I could communicate better with him. Of course I love this whole piece, but I was sad for the part when your son was unable to communicate. Broke my heart. But then I especially loved the part where you shared how we hold grudges and that hit home for me right now. Sometimes I get mad and I tend to be a grudge holder. I love what children teach us. What you teach us. Thank you.March 31, 2014 – 2:35 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Linda,
      It really is annoying when people say “all kids do that,” isn’t it? Because they DON’T. I mean maybe they do a little, but like you said, it’s very different. And yeah, I have a tendency to hold grudges a little as well and want to not. It’s just not really worth it and if my son can be generous enough to forget that I disappointed him almost right away -what an awesome thing, huh?March 31, 2014 – 3:02 pmReplyCancel

  • Janine Huldie - I am so thankful for our kids’ resilience and ability to forgive, because there have been times here when I do something to upset or annoy them (like making them go to bed after a long day) and they truly get angry at me from these things, but I truly doesn’t take them long to forgive and forget. And then they always come back and hug me and tell me they love me. So trust me, you aren’t alone in this and I too know the feeling here at times, too.March 31, 2014 – 7:48 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I’m so thankful for kids’ resilience too Janine. So much. I love that they’re so easy in forgiveness and I want to be more like that myself. 😀March 31, 2014 – 3:07 pmReplyCancel

  • clark - (I will write) Good Post (but that is not what I would say but) none of the other standard things apply… (wait! alright, I’m going to go with)

    I can identify with how you feel…

    (hey, thanks… not sure the form of the thing that would be represented by this thanks, but screw it)

    hey thanks…March 31, 2014 – 7:57 amReplyCancel

  • Sarah - I’m having a hard time believing in that resilience right now. Maybe because I’m not feeling particularly resilient. This was a wonderful story and lesson I will ponder this week.March 31, 2014 – 9:13 amReplyCancel

  • Kimberly - Oh I love you and Tucker. This is such an important lesson for all of us. Kids forgive and we should do the same. Life is too short for stupid things. I’m sorry though that you had a difficult time in understanding him. You both understand love and share it immensely. It takes time to learn one another and to have patience. That is what Tucker is telling all of us…patience and forgiveness. xoMarch 31, 2014 – 9:20 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - And my lovely Kimberly, I love you and Chunky! Here’s to patience and forgiveness. More of it, for all of us. I think we can drink to that, even.March 31, 2014 – 5:15 pmReplyCancel

  • Kerith Stull - I totally get that frustration with interacting with Brielle, almost every time she signs something to me. Yes, she’s a fairly fluent signer. BUT… she has fine motor issues that make her signing “Brielle signs” that are difficult to interpret, even for an “experienced communication partner” – aka Mom. Because Tucker forgave you for not understanding (and even if he hadn’t), show yourself a little forgiveness, too!March 31, 2014 – 9:32 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Kerith! And I love your title of “experienced communication partner!!”March 31, 2014 – 7:56 pmReplyCancel

  • Kristi - Kids are resilient, and kids do forgive freely. I hope you catch that commercial soon, though, for your own peace of mind. Two of my children had trouble with speech, and I could relate to your dismay (and Tucker’s frustration) over words without shared meaning. It took me weeks to figure out “Mimi annanas, pshew!” was Mumford the Magician’s, “Ala peanut butter sandwiches!”March 31, 2014 – 10:30 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks, Kristi, it helps to know that other parents had a hard time deciphering their kids’ words. Usually, when other people can’t understand Tucker, I know what he wants. Not that time though and I just felt so badly for him! Poor kid.
      And how adorable that Mumford the Magician’s is peanut butter sandwiches!March 31, 2014 – 8:07 pmReplyCancel

  • Emily - I am a big grudge holder. Huge. It’s bad, I know. As for resilient kids, I couldn’t agree more. Aside from one kid going through the challenge of his life, I’ve got another who just got cut from a sports team he was so hoping to make. He deserved to make the team and was better than many of the other players but politics (yes politics!) got in the way and kept him from getting selected. I thought he’d be crushed forever but he was laughing and “over it” the next day, which is more than I can say for myself. I’m still stewing about it!! So glad you learned this lesson – it’s a great one…March 31, 2014 – 10:33 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Emily, I am too, in some ways. It depends on the situation really, but even when I’m good about it, I’m not as good as Tucker is about it. That sucks that one of the dudes wasn’t chosen to play because of politics! I’d probably hold a grudge over that one too.March 31, 2014 – 8:12 pmReplyCancel

  • zoe - resilience is a spectacular thing and I suspect something Tucker has had all along… don’t forget though that he also has a new found awareness…. I used to with my kid hate those times because they usually showed up like this one as an awareness of a limitation (his or mine) but the great thing about it was that it translated to other awarenesses of his surroundings and things he wasn’t previously registering… lovely post- Sorry for the heartache though.March 31, 2014 – 10:35 amReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - That’s true, Zoe, that he has a new awareness…thanks for the reminder of that and thanks for getting it!March 31, 2014 – 8:20 pmReplyCancel

  • Considerer - Oh no! I hate that you felt this way – you don’t suck. The situation sucks. Tucker knowing he can’t make the words he needs and that you can’t either – that sucks, but YOU DON’T. I promise; look at the wonderful, gorgeous rest of the weekend you gave him.

    LOOK AT YOU CHANGING THE FREAKIN WORLD FOR YOUR BOY.

    You. Don’t. Suck.

    And if ANYONE dares to give you that ‘look’ – the one like you do, or like he does, tell me and I’ll come and pound on them when I’m over there. Start me a vendetta list – I will thump them ALL.

    (Wait, you were talking about forgiveness…drat!)March 31, 2014 – 12:50 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - HAHA to coming to thump them if anybody else gives me the look! And dude, check you out with bolding and italics in a single comment. It’s like a superpower and way cool. And thanks for thinking I’m changing the world for my little guy. If I change just a teeny tiny part of it and one person is more accepting of him, it’s better, right? I mean I want more than one extra person to be nice to him, but you know what I mean. 😀March 31, 2014 – 8:22 pmReplyCancel

      • Considerer - I got skillz

        And you ARE changing it. From where I sit, you’re doing amazingly at it, with HUGE impact on people’s minds and hearts, and it’s incredible, and I still think you’re one of the people who’s the most ‘doing ACTUAL REAL THINGS with her blog’ people I know.

        At all.

        So there.

        (and believe me, I WILL thump them.)March 31, 2014 – 8:29 pmReplyCancel

  • Tamara - I know that Des is developing typically and it’s not quite the same, except that he’s 1.5 and this happens a lot in our house and his whole demeanor changes when I DO get it right. And obviously that happens more and more as we both grow and his words get better and so does my understanding.
    The resilience…that’s magical. It really is.March 31, 2014 – 2:14 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - You know, I didn’t even realize 1.5 year olds were supposed to talk more than mine did??? Dumb me. So hey you’re getting it right. I promise. Plus, you’re freaking awesome. And yeah the resilience, yeah. Magical. Huge big magical.March 31, 2014 – 11:14 pmReplyCancel

  • Natalie M - Your posts really mirror true to me, thanks for sharing. I really relate to you pain at not being able to understand everything. It’s so hard, my little boy gets frustrated when I don’t do what he wants and he can’t communicate that to me, but he soon forgets and like you say moves on. But all we can do is our best and then hopefully it will get easier over time.March 31, 2014 – 3:16 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Natalie, you’re right, it’s hard when we can’t understand them – so hard. But, I think there’s a message there somewhere about them moving on…I want to move on, too!March 31, 2014 – 11:35 pmReplyCancel

  • My twice baked potato - I remember sitting in a puppet show at the local library with my son. He was unimpressed with the marionettes that all the others loved…all but one other boy that was sitting with his mom across from us. Both of our boys were agitated by the noise and the crowd and couldn’t wait for the show to be done. As moms, most likely both special needs moms, we gave each other the look.
    It said so much.March 31, 2014 – 3:44 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Ahh, the look – glad there was another special needs mom there to share it with you! Back when we did more community events, nobody shared the look with me – they just judged. I’m still hurt and sad about it. It was messed up. 🙁
      Here’s to you and all of us who are out here, trying to raise awareness!!!March 31, 2014 – 11:43 pmReplyCancel

  • Dana - I remember reading somewhere that forgiveness is a healing gift we give ourselves, not the person we are forgiving. Kids just seem to know that, and then somehow they forget as they grow. I know that doesn’t lessen your sadness about not understanding Tucker, and I’m sorry for that. Oh, and I don’t think I’ve ever said “All kids do that,” but I know for certain that I will never say it in the future.March 31, 2014 – 7:52 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I like that it’s a gift we give ourselves, and it’s weird, because this post brought up a lot of other stuff for me, that I guess I need to get into in another post, or private writing, of something. When Tucker was tiny, there were so many moms who were just so mean and I’m still angry and hurt and had forgotten all about it until you (thank you) wrote that you weren’t sure you’d said “all kids do that” but won’t. I won’t bore you with my psychobabble about me me me, because the important part is that I appreciate you and your willingness to listen. I know you get it because your son is friends with a boy on the spectrum, but still, I feel like you’d get it anyway, because you’re just awesome. And I thank you for that.March 31, 2014 – 11:55 pmReplyCancel

  • Jennifer Steck - I can’t imagine the frustration of not being able to communicate what you want to say or to see someone we love feel that way, Kristi. Your post made me cry. I don’t know Tucker, other than what you have shared, but I want so badly for him not to ever feel that way again. Thank goodness for his resilience. This won’t be the last time, but he will know that he has a mother who loves and will fight for him.March 31, 2014 – 8:37 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I’m sorry it made you cry. Your post made me cry too so maybe we’re even? I want so badly for him to never feel that way again too…and thank you so much. Here’s to his resilience! xoApril 1, 2014 – 12:01 amReplyCancel

  • Angel The Alien - Kids really live in the moment, don’t they. Maybe that is the key to pure forgiveness… they really don’t hang onto their anger or sadness for long. In one moment they may be upset, but the next moment they are blissful because you’re reading them a story or letting them have a Gogurt or something. They don’t dwell on what happened yesterday. Not until they’re a little older, anyway!March 31, 2014 – 9:57 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I think you’re right that kids living in the moment is key to their pure forgiveness. I wish that we could all just hang onto that for longer, and not worry so much about what it means when somebody says something, worry that we made somebody angry, and I so much just want to hang onto that a little longer – for me and for my kid!! Thanks, Angel!April 1, 2014 – 12:18 amReplyCancel

  • Katia - The most beautiful thing I’ve read in days. I feel like we experience and feel things similarly. I would’ve been devastated too. Heck, I am just reading this, but yes, they forgive and move on and it’s us who dwell. I think that it’s because they view these things as isolated incidents in the moment they occur whereas we with our life experience tend to view everything as symbolic of something else, as a tendency, as part of a process. I’ve had moments like that with Ben when I had no idea what he was referring to and I get how devastated your felt especially when he tried to form the word with your lips. You’ve described it beautifully and the pain will go away but this testament of how much you love your son in a post will remain.March 31, 2014 – 10:12 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - I feel like we feel things, and experience them similarly too my sweet friend! I love how you put that they just view things as experiences and that we tend to put them in categories of stuff that comes with other stuff, because I think you’re right. I never really thought about it like that. I like it. And yeah it did suck that he was trying to get me to say whatever it was, but again he moved on and I should too. Thanks, you. xoApril 1, 2014 – 12:28 amReplyCancel

  • Eli@coachdaddy - I think your son saw that you tried. Your best. No forgiveness required.

    It reminds us that sometimes the kids give their best and it doesn’t result in victory. But they tried. Their best.

    No forgiveness required.

    This is a beautiful piece.March 31, 2014 – 10:31 pmReplyCancel

    • Kristi Campbell - Thanks Eli. I appreciate it. Much. He tried. I tried. we lost and moved on. Good life lesson, right?April 1, 2014 – 12:39 amReplyCancel

  • thedoseofreality - Bawling. The way you described it is exactly how this parenting gig feels so much of the time. Man, it is tough. Your sweet Tucker is so lucky to have you on his side, though. You get him, even when you can’t exactly say it.-AshleyApril 1, 2014 – 9:14 amReplyCancel

  • Mike - Wow, this was a good read, Kristi, despite the hurt that you felt for not understanding what Tucker was trying to say and for the frustration that Tucker felt…only temporarily. That part about him telling you not to say “sorry” was amazing in of itself. All kids, including Tucker, are so resilient to so many things especially at a younger age. And despite his frustration in the moment he quickly moved on displaying his incredible unconditional love for you. It will be interesting to see if that was one of those big life moments (of many had and so many more yet to come) for the both of you in future communication or missed-communication. Thank you so much for sharing this with us 🙂April 1, 2014 – 12:41 pmReplyCancel

  • Lady Lilith - I love it when kids try to act all grown up and and big.April 1, 2014 – 3:57 pmReplyCancel

  • Lisa @ Golden Spoons - Sp glad I am finally catching up on some blog reading! This is a beautiful, but heartbreaking story. I am always amazed by the resilience of children. At the end of the day, Tucker knows how much you love him and that is why he is able to forgive so easily. Forgive yourself, too, friend because you are a wonderful mother and Tucker is lucky to have you – even when you don’t understand. (HUGS)April 1, 2014 – 10:18 pmReplyCancel

  • that cynking feeling - Oh, if only I could learn to forgive and forget as quickly as your son.April 2, 2014 – 3:01 pmReplyCancel

Your email is never published or shared. Required fields are marked *

*

*

N e v e r   m i s s   a   n e w   p o s t !