"Letting go" is NOT in my vocabulary

I've come to the realization that I can't let go.  I have certain expectations of how I like things to be, and when it doesn't go my way, I am pouting on the inside like a 2 year old.  I am not sure how to move beyond this, but it is wreaking havoc on my ability to be happy, the ability to be content with the way life can get all screwy, and generally the ability to go with the flow.

I find it best to not have any preconceived notions about anything. I try not to have a visual in my head of an experience that we are about to embark on, so I don't get disappointed.  This can be as simple as running into the grocery store to pick up a needed item for dinner to something big like seeing a live performance.  The problem is, I am a very optimistic person.  I look for the best in every situation and have high hopes that we will all have a grand time and the day will flow smoothly.   You can imagine that when reality slaps me in the face, I am probably disappointed and kicking & screaming on the inside more than the average person.

Ian has the kind of personality that he wants to please his father and me.  If he sees either of us getting the least bit critical or disappointed with his actions, Ian will quickly get in line and do his best to conform.  I know this isn't completely normal or healthy for him to be like, but G-d love him that he makes my life so much easier.

Sam, however, could care less about pleasing Jeff and me.  She has it set in her head how an event or situation will go down, and there is no changing that.  If she doesn't want to get in the car to head home after preschool, then she won't.  Plain and simple, she does what she wants to do.  No amount of reasoning or demanding a certain compliance from her is going to change her intent.  While I do my best to "manage" the moment and get on with our day as quickly as possible, it is usually near impossible.  By the time we (Sam and I) are back on the move, I am ridiculously mentally exhausted and feel like laying down on the ground in the fetal position or hiding under a rock.  Not possible for this mom who is needed and required to show up at about 10 different spots throughout the day.

I recently finished reading a book (fiction) about these two women; one was a writer and the other was a mom to a severely autistic child, who unfortunately died from a seizure.  The woman who was a writer was channeling the voice of the child who passed away.  She was writing the book in his voice -- considering he was non-verbal his whole life, finding out what he was thinking was a huge blessing for the mom.   The book was a bit slow-going and not something that I even recommend friends read, but was interesting to me.

Somehow, reading from the viewpoint of the autistic boy gave me greater understanding to Samantha.  Please don't get me wrong, in no way do I think Sam suffers from autism or anywhere on the spectrum. But, much of the rigidity in her actions and the ability to be flexible when she has it in her head to be anything but, rang all too true when getting a glimpse inside this boy's head in the book.

Fortunately, at some point Sam does stop the tantrum/meltdown; not as soon as I'd like, but eventually she does give up.  And, fortunately, Sam's outbursts are getting a little farther spaced apart.  And, an even bigger fortunately, she only acts like this for me and Jeff.  But, when the temper tantrums do come, its a doozy.

So, here I am at a crossroads.  I realize Sam is going to be like Sam.  There is no changing it any time soon and I just need to accept this is the way she is.   But, now I realize I have a very hard time letting go.  I need to be more flexible and not hold so strongly to my sky-is-blue-all-is-right-with-the-world vision I have most times.  In the end, I only get depressed and disappointed when it doesn't turn out. 

Case in point:  We were in Philadelphia two weekends ago.  We were able to complete the rest of the checklist of items I wanted the kids to see (Betsy Ross' House, Liberty Bell, and National Constitution Center).   At our last stop, I thought it would be nice to get a group picture of the whole family together.  Sam was stuck drawing on some little piece of paper she was carrying around and refused to look up to get the photo taken.  It really got to me.  I only needed her to look up for 5 seconds!  No amount of pleading was getting her to comply.  Meanwhile the rest of the family is getting very antsy and is losing patience.  Not to mention the nice worker taking the photo was more than ready to go back to his post.  I couldn't let this moment go!  I really wanted her to look up for the photo.  She refused.  It bothered me (and still does) so much more than it should have.  I know this.  Why can't I let it go!?!?!?

I am positively convinced we all would be looking up and smiling for the camera if Sam wasn't fixated on her drawing and I wasn't in the process of making a big deal out of it.

Here is our 2nd shot with me still trying to convince Sam to look up.

This is just one of many examples. I am already feeling very overwhelmed by the day to day, and this self-imposed added absurdity needs to stop.  We are not perfect.  We will never be. So what if she isn't looking at the camera, right?  This is who we are.  Why can't I go be okay with that!?!?!

This is my rant for the day.  More like beating myself up then having anything to do with Sam.  The incidence with Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, CT was a major wake-up call for me.  I am trying very hard to let the trivial things roll off my back, not need everything to be perfect and enjoy the moment more.  I know there are 26 families right now that would be absolutely fine with less than perfect.