And so begins the writing debrief…

Another extreme event with Summer…

Kris is away with half the family at Wilson’s Promontory at the moment. I’m home with the girls. I come and go this time of year, to be with both parts of the family. We can’t have Summer at Wilson’s Promontory. It’s way too hard. So I have to split my time. Lots of work goes into planning Summer’s care when we are away. Carers and family that help do a great job. And for a while Summer enjoys the holiday and space and attention, but then she also misses family. I suspect she’s anxious about Kris not being around. My best guess.

This morning we had a new carer – second shift with the girls. Summer wanted me, so I helped her most of the time. Sarah was happy to have the new carer. Mostly smooth morning. Being a Sunday, we were getting ready for church. When it was nearly time to go, I gave Summer the appropriate warnings, at reducing intervals, then it was really time to go. She didn’t want to leave the computer. That’s normal. Normal resistance. But we got there in the end. In the car.

I had forgotten to tell our children’s coordinator at church that we would be there, so I knew the special needs room would be locked. That’s OK, I would find someone with a key and all should be well. I hoped. I got Sarah to bring extra toys in case there weren’t any there. And I packed Summer’s favourite toys in a bag. Big mistake!

In the car, just before we arrived at church, Summer opened the bag and saw her favourite toys and cracked it. She was fuming and refusing them and shouting and throwing them. Then she was stomping on them. I said, don’t break them, I can’t fix them. That got her attention for a brief few seconds, then it was back to stomping. I gradually rescued all the toys once we parked, but I got wacked in the process. Thankfully I had had the foresight to park with ample space on Summer’s side between us and the next car, so she couldn’t slam open the door onto the neighbouring car. (Mind you she did try at one point)! At first she decided to stay in the car and lunge for the car horn. Beeeeeeep. Beeeeeep! I stopped her. Then she did it again. A man walked past to get to church and kindly invited her to come inside. She shook her head with her agitated mood. He smiled and continued on. I was grateful for his demeanour!

I tried leaving the car several times, to give her space, but she would return to horn honking. So I just sat in the car quietly and waited. Eventually she got out. I took a breath…

I knew the next steps were risky and I prayed for grace.

She entered the church. We were ten minutes into the singing time. She walked down the middle aisle to the front of the church and stood and looked at me defiantly, questioningly. She knows she’s not allowed on the stage. She stood in the front area. I hopped into an empty pew in the third row and joined in the worship time, with my eyes open most of the time. I hoped that she would settle, as she saw me happy worshipping, and not giving her negative attention. It looked like it might work, her face relaxed a bit. But then she was agitated again and edged to the stage with one foot on the step. Looking at me, waiting for my reaction. I calmly shook my head and she kept testing.

The worship rose. I heard the congregation lift. A friend later confided in me, that she felt the congregation knew what was going on, and pressed in deeper with worship in response. I felt it at the time too. I did the same. My friend was praying for me.

Summer edged up the steps. I moved to the front row. I knew that I couldn’t go up to her, as she was agitated with me and this would escalate her. All I could do was stay calm and wait. I took the iPad out of my handbag and silently offered it to her, knowing it wouldn’t work. She shook her head. She climbed up the steps and stood next to one of the singers. It was Rian. She was an angel and smiled at Summer, put her arm around her and allowed her to stand there and kind of feel like she was sharing the microphone. Summer smiled.

While this was going on, Renee led the worship beautifully, pressing in more. She prayed at the end an inspired prayer, thanking God and acknowledging the beauty and differences among us. (Something like that). I was touched.

Ps Dan came up and began to lead the service. He seemed to take it all in his stride and just calmly went about talking. I have no idea what he said. I was fixated on Summer. Summer stayed there, next to Renee. Renee tried to encourage her to go down, but Summer shook her head with that expression on her face again. Renee backed off and waited. Smart. Then she had a brilliant idea. She bribed Summer with the microphone and was able to lead her off the stage, with the promise of holding the microphone. That got her all the way to the special needs room corridor. She let her keep the microphone for a bit. And thankfully the sound guys had turned it off.

Rian came soon after and beautifully requested the microphone back. We patiently waited and conversed, then Summer finally gave it back. All good.

Then the room.

Summer wanted to come back to the main auditorium. No way hosay! Not happening. Not taking the risk again right now! So I blocked her way. This agitated her of course. She kept trying to get past me. I kept blocking. She was fixated. I tickled her toward the special needs room. This got her moving, but didn’t improve her mood of course. She banged the door. It was a door with two glass panes. Then she kicked the bottom pane and it did a spider web smash, staying intact, but cracks everywhere. Oh my!

I got her inside the special needs room and spoke firmly to her. I emphasised words like dangerous, blood and hospital. She became fixated on the door. Sarah and the carer were in the room trying to play a game. Eventually Sarah decided it would be more peaceful for her and the carer to play outside. But she couldn’t exit with Summer in the way of the door. I had to grab Summer’s wrists and drag her out of the way. Sarah got out. Summer came straight back and was kicking the frame of the door. And touching the glass, threatening to push it, watching for my reaction.

It’s such a complicated dance with Summer, trying to stay calm, trying to divert when possible, trying to prevent the glass shattering on the ground and trying to stop her banging the door (which could probably be heard in the main auditorium).

It felt like a lose, lose situation. By intervening, I heightened her and prolonged the episode. But by withdrawing, I ran the risk of a dangerous situation. And the problem was she knew she could get my attention by banging. And I couldn’t just ignore the banging, when the church could probably hear it.

So for the next 15-20 minutes I oscilatted between intervening and withdrawing, intervening and withdrawing. In the process I was hit multiple times, kicked multiple times. She attempted to bite me. She spat on me.

In the midst of this I cried out to God…

“For all of this suffering, for every moment of abuse God, I ask that you multiply my fruitfulness, that more of the oppressed would be set free, that many many others would be brought to wholeness and breakthrough, that your grace and anointing would be multiplied. Use this God for your purposes and glory!”

I knew heaven listened. I know my prayer has been answered.

Eventually Summer agreed to going home. I couldn’t risk going back through the auditorium. I had to get Summer to go outside via the oval to the carpark. We went outside, we walked past the oval. We did it!

Unfortunately the gate to the carpark was locked. Of course it was locked. It is supposed to be locked. Dang!

We went back. I suggested we go around the buildings another way to get to the carpark. Instead Summer decided to go towards the classrooms. She tried every door. And with every door I felt anxiety rise – “what if a door had been accidentally left open?” I stayed close. And every door was locked thankfully. Except for one, towards the auditorium. I was right there and put my foot on the bottom of the door, not allowing it to open. I saw Carlo preaching. I was bummed I couldn’t listen.

We eventually got to the carpark. We got to the car. We got in. We went home. I told Summer she was going to be put in time out.

At home Summer saw the cat and picked it up. That made it easy to get her to the bathroom to go to the toilet. (I had to jump that hurdle before I put her in time out. Otherwise she would deliberately wet in her room. And that would be more work. I needed a break).

Once in her room, we let the cat go. Time for discipline. And I had very, very firm words with her. Three things.

1. Summer do not go on the stage
2. Summer do not break windows
3. Summer do not hurt mummy

And as an aside, please note:

1. It sounds like this happens more frequently than it does. This was an extreme situation.
2. I’ve become adept at blocking her aggression so I’ve never been seriously hurt.

In conclusion:

It could have been fine. I just wanted to go to church.

I don’t want to stay home. I don’t want to stop Summer from going to church because it is too hard. I am grateful for an understanding church community, but I don’t want to cause too many problems. It’s a complicated balance.

Next week Summer and Sarah will be at a respite house for the weekend. We do this once a month. I can relax.

After that Kris will be back. It’s easier at church when Kris is there.

We will also be aiming for two paid carers at church. One for Summer. One for Sarah. I hope it works. I’ve done the rostering already.

So here I am at home. I aim to rest. Another carer is with the girls. They are playing ‘schools and teachers’. It’s going great.

I am both unemotional, and also ready to cry at the drop of the hat. I am used to this, but it takes a toll on my body.

I need to rest. But the rest never feels like enough.

I tell you what! My trust in God is being forged! I can’t solve all these problems. Summer’s behaviour. My health. All I can do is trust. It sounds like a nice pad ending, to finish a blog. But it’s my reality. The last six months have often not made sense. I’ve wrestled with God. I’ve been frustrated. And I came to the point where I decided, that I didn’t care what my life looked like. I was going to trust God regardless. I’ve had a hissy fit against obstacles. I DON’T CARE. I’M GOING TO TRUST MY GOD. God knows what he is doing. He knows how to lead me. And I trust his leadership.

And that is my strength. And that is my joy. And that is my breakthrough!