Bipolar Parent

As I've mentioned before, I have three young children.  My oldest is in second grade, my middle child is in Kindergarten, and my youngest will be 4 this month.  They are all so special in different ways, as you would expect any proud mother to say.  I will say all the typical things, they are very beautiful, extremely smart, and more amazing than any other children on the planet.  What separates my children from the others is that I am totally unbiased and these statements are 100% true.  What can I say, they emerged from a tremendous gene pool.

Seriously though, I do have smart and beautiful children.  For the most part, they are well mannered, well behaved and kind.  They do normal kid things, whine, talk back sometimes, cry, stomp around when they don't get their way, but not as much as some children I have seen.  What impresses me most, is how good they are to each other.  Don't get me wrong, they do fight with each other, with the occasional slug thrown in here and there for good measure (usually between my middle child and my youngest).  More often than not, however, they treat each other quite well.  They are usually all together when they are home, no one is left out.  They like being together.

From the very beginning, my husband and I made it a special point to emphasize that we are a team.  We do tell them that family is very important, but fostering the team concept has made an even bigger difference in how they view our family, I believe.  I can't explain how satisfying that is to me, since my relationships with my mom and sister are fractured, as is my husband's relationship with his mom.  Both of our fathers are dead, so there really isn't an extended family in the picture here.  I have one aunt who is very involved and is their honorary grandmother.  That's it.  I don't want that for their future.  I want them to have an extended family once they begin their own families. 

My youngest child is my clown.  He says and does the funniest things.  You never know what is going to come out of his mouth.  My favorite thing he said recently happened at the dinner table.  We were all talking and he was trying to say something but was having difficulty gaining attention.  He piped up loudly and said "Hello!!  Will somebody pay attention to the little dude down here???"  He is also inclined to say things about his "pee-pee" in very public places, which has been mortifying several times.  It's in places like waiting rooms at the doctor's office where it's very quiet...

My daughter is something of a princess in her own mind.  She has certain expectations of the way things should be, and she is happy to let us all know when they are not up to her standards.  Which is fairly often.  She's not quite six and already loves fashion and loves to shop.  (Oy!) She is my devious one, the one who convinces her brothers to do things like ride the top of a storage tub down the stairs like a sled, but keeps her own hands clean.  She will maintain her innocence even when she is caught red-handed.  She has even proclaimed innocence AFTER she has admitted her guilt to me.  She'll tell me she never said it, right after she has confessed to the crime.  It's kinda scary really.  She is also the one who is most attached to me.  She is the most loving and angelic child when she is not up to mischief.  I love to cuddle with her and talk about her day, the future, all things girly.  She is as much of a dream as she is an imp.  She is my little doll and I wouldn't have her any other way.  Even if she will make me completely gray by the time she turns 15.

My oldest son is like no other child I have ever met.  He's 7, but at times seems so much older than that.  He is a great big brother.  He and my daughter are unbelievably close, they always have been.  From the time she was born, it was like magic.  They have such a strong bond.  He is also the wise older brother to my other son.  He is good at looking out for him, showing him how to do things.  He always let his little brother climb and crawl all over him; it never bothered him at all.  He is very kind-hearted, always thinking of others.  He shows very good character already.  I think he expects a little too much from himself sometimes, so I'm trying to figure out a way to help him with that.  He knows that Mom is Bipolar, and probably understands more about what that means than most kids his age would, assuming they had someone who is Bipolar in their life.  He accepts it for what it is, and has no confusion about it.  He asks questions as the occur to him, but he's too young to be aware of any stigma associated with mental illness.

I'm obviously proud of them.  I know that who and how they are as has something to do with nature as well as with nurture.  I wonder what that ratio is?  Ha ha ha.  If only there were a way to accurately measure how well you are doing.  I know they have to have been affected by my illness.  I have had periods where I was very sick.  They have seen me leave in the ambulance more than once.  They saw the police come into the house and talk to their Dad.  They've heard me scream and yell like a crazy person.  I've been withdrawn and completely disengaged for long periods of time.  There is no way they were not affected.  From all outward appearances, they seem oddly well-adjusted though.  I look for behaviors, I look for signs, but I find none.

Being a parent is hard enough.  Being Bipolar is hard enough.  Being a Bipolar Parent...well...that's hard as #$%@!!  You have a distorted perception to begin with.  A brain that betrays you at times.  So here you are, trying to keep it together, yourself and your own well being such a big part of your own life, yet you are trying to raise three wonderful little human beings at the same time.  The natural inclination is to put their well being before your own.  However, in order to preserve their well being, I have to keep myself well first.  It's a very delicate balance, and against my own natural instinct.  I'm glad I don't have to do this alone.  In fact, for a few months earlier this year, I sort of was.  I happened to be very sick at the time and it was just a disastrous moment in my parenthood history.  I am hoping it was brief enough to not have caused any lasting ill-effects. 

Suffice it to say, this has been a tumultuous year as a Bipolar Parent.  Bipolar has affected my parenting skills in a big way and has overshadowed my children at times.  It angers me--they didn't ask for this.  They didn't get to make the choice to live with this illness.  No, I didn't either, but I did choose to have children.  I know I didn't know I was Bipolar at the time, but ignorance is no defense.  This is why, if I have to live with "not sad" being the best level of recovery I can achieve, I will live with it.  This is why, despite my frustration and struggles with taking my medication right now, I will not stop taking it.  They deserve more from me.  They need my stability.  I don't HAVE to be happy for any other reason than they are happy.  I can be satisfied with that.