Expecting too much.

Last night we went to dinner. It was William’s birthday and things hadn’t really gone to plan.

On holidays, with seven kids, who am I kidding?

Things never go to plan.

Things never really go to plan when it comes to Will either.

I wanted to watch the sunrise. It was raining.

It poured all day

All day.

I wanted to watch the sunset and the rain became torrential.

The weather pretty much matched my mood.

Dark, angry, clouded.

So, dinner seemed like a good idea, get out of the villa, nice lighting, good atmosphere.

I was still in an amazingly cranky mood though and in hindsight, I should have seen that as a marker.

Dinner was okay, disorganised (7 kids – it always is) and rushed (again with the 7 kids).

Everyone was on their best behaviour, except for Mal.

Mal acted just like…well… Mal.

Developmentally delayed, autistic tendencies, Mal. At his  finest.

For months I had tried to teach him to take a mouthful of food, place his fork on his plate, hands in his lap and chew with his mouth shut

and he was doing it too.

At home

but one thing I have learnt in the time that Mal has been living with us is that when you take him out of his normal environment, things go curly very quickly.

He looked like a lion going in for the kill. He made loud slurping and chewing noises and I was sure that every single one of the patrons could see every  masticated mouthful, plus his lunch and possibly breakfast, still sitting in his belly, waiting for digestion. His mouth was that open

and I was tense.

I could see people in their chairs pulling faces and whispering, pointing at Mal. I could hear their comments.

I was upset and embarrassed.

For him but, in truth mostly for me.

Not one of my finer moments.

Usually I am accepting that Mal is who he is.

He doesn’t care about manners or expectations. He doesn’t worry what other people think of him or of situations he finds himself.

Mal is just Mal. Innocent and open.

The kids didn’t care. Dave wasn’t worried. It was just me and a handful of ignorant people who were openly disgusted.

On the walk back I felt awhole lot of things.

Anger that the night had gone badly, yes but mostly angry at myself for letting people’s prejudices get to me and for feeling upset with Mal and having too high expectations.

I also felt resentment. I’m not sure if I should write that here. I can understand if you all want to lynch me but if I’m being honest, I was feeling resentful that Mal was unable to act ‘normal’ for just this one night – one that was special for me.

This morning, I see things differently

and I can see Mal for the sweet boy he is.

My expectations this morning are more in line with reality and it feels much better.

Mal is keeping his distance from me today and that’s okay.

If I were Mal, I would be upset with me too.

Bringing up seven kids has led to in depth knowledge of asthma, autism, fetal alcohol syndrome and drug induced developmental delay, immune deficiency and autoimmune disease, ectodermal dysplasia, neonatal death and cardiac defect. Despite all of that, I didn't know I was about to start the ride of my life with the illness of my youngest daughter, Ivy.

TiffandIvy

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