Your adolescent son or daughter disappears down the hall punching the wall and slamming their bedroom door.  You’re Tween just grunts and walks away, or your younger child has a complete temper tantrum every time you say “no.”  Parenting a child who seems to have ”anger overload,” — and who doesn’t want to talk, problem solve, or communicate in any way – can feel hopeless.  Their rage, their lashing-out behavior, their indifference, and their melt downs leave you shell shocked.  You wonder, “If I can’t communicate with my child, how are we supposed to ever resolve anything?”

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My story is wrought with lonely pieces; shards of glass that wound deep within.  A life changed forever, in the blink of an eye.  I realize that many parents live this same life, constantly hurting and always wondering what they could have done differently.  Our reality is unique, abruptly altered by the tragedy of extreme circumstances.  What once worked to rear our children, to love or to discipline our children, is now, for a time, inexplicably useless.  Just as our world has been turned upside down, our children’s lives are twisted and formed into unknown entities that no one understands easily how to navigate.  And it feels as though no one, absolutely no one, can comprehend how difficult life truly becomes.

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I should be thankful that E’s hearing is so good that he is able to pick up our grown-up conversations. However, we’ve reached a point where we have to almost whisper in each other’s ear or come up with code words. This is because E has become really nosy all of a sudden.

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Editor’s Note: Today’s guest blog post comes from Adrian at Adrian’s Crazy Life, where she blogs about parenting, decluttering, finances and is “always going 90 miles with her hair on fire, and loving every minute of it.” Adrian has three sons, ages 30, 22 and 13.

Raising three boys can be exhausting, particularly when your kids are always arguing, fighting, and seem to be intent on just driving each other crazy.  It’s hard on the parents, it’s hard on the furniture, and it’s definitely hard on the kids, too.

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I am convinced there is a guilt hormone that no one has discovered yet.  Soon after my daughter was born, I noticed this growing sense of guilt, horror and fear. The first time I gave my daughter a bath in the little blue plastic tub for infants, I was petrified. I had to have my husband stand right there in case she needed to be rescued. This tiny fragile being was terrifying to me. She was so vulnerable and it was all so new. After her apparent survival, I started to feel a bit better.  I thought maybe they were right — babies really might be tougher than they seem. But then came the vaccinations, the croup, bloody knees, grades, friends and what seemed like a stream of childhood crises.

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I’m sure most of us can remember our senior year of high school: perhaps you went through the stress of SAT and ACT testing, the anxiety of sending off college applications (and waiting for the letters to come back), and, the grand finale of high school – the prom. I realize the grand finale of high school is actually graduation but most people focus on “The Prom” as being the ceremony that signals the end of their high school career.

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I am an imperfect mom. I get it wrong sometimes a lot of times.  There are moments (days) when I’m not consistent, times when I’m too exhausted to follow through on a consequence. Instances when I realize that I haven’t listened very well to what my son is trying to tell me, or when I’ve gotten too involved in his problems and placed them on my own shoulders.

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Editor’s Note: Today’s blog comes from Darah Zeledon, mother of five and former Parent Blogger for EP – and the author of the new book Girl with the Crooked Smile…Stuck in a Moment and the Pearls of Wisdom That Pulled Her Through It. Congratulations to Darah from all of us at EP on this new journey!

When we’re out of our element and uncomfortable, we grow.  Squirming around in unfamiliar surroundings, our stomachs beset with “jitters,” we’re forced to invoke courage and creativity in order to feel “at ease.” Our minds expand and spirits stretch with each life experience we struggle to make part of us, to call our own.

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