My desire to "save" my son from the damages done by one of his caregivers was the driving force in my decision to quit my full time benefited job and stay home with him. It was the only choice I could see given his behaviors and how little time remained before he started Kindergarden.
It has been 5 months of challenges for both of us, and for other family members as well. There has been so much learning and growth happening within our hearts and souls that the two of us are surely different now than we were before. I suppose you could say that of any person after 5 months, whether they made a major life change or not - life has a way of growing and changing people regardless of their choices! - but the ways in which both G and I have had to adapt and adjust have been infinitely full of growth.
November brought a new part time position for me that took me out of the house more than I wanted during the time I was orienting/training. The necessity of income chased me through the days and evenings I was gone. Then suddenly there was Thanksgiving. I tried to slow our race through December but then we traveled 3000 miles to a family reunion which was an amazing time, and of course there was Christmas and Santa and now? Now is the time to regroup, re assess, and plan for more changes.
G has responded so well to being home with me now. He still is pretty resistant to any other person trying to correct his behaviors, to put it in a respectful tone. In other words, he digs in his heels and lashes out at most any other person, still trying to be the boss of every situation and always on guard against being hurt by an adult. I wonder if that is something I can ever help him navigate with more grace. He likes to be boss with me too, but has become more willing to be my friendly, cooperative helper on a regular basis. His trust in me is growing bigger and deeper all the time. He was a wonderful travel companion on our flights to California; funny and cheerful and curious, as well as respectful and charming to other passengers. Maybe that is just the nature of a 4 year old...
He has had some issues with breathing/asthma as the fall progressed, as is typical of him and I imagine we will have to deal with this long term. That will be the least of our worries!
I know at times G feels the need to play with other children, but overall it is still a difficult time for him when he does. His bossiness and easily overstimulated temperament can make a situation very UNfun for all of us. I'm still trying to sort out the way to meet his needs in this as well as create successful interactions for him.
Right now we are saying goodbye to the holidays and heading in to the endless dreariness of a cold New England winter so I plan on making "successful kid-interactions" a work in progress. There are a lot of indoor play places we can go to for "practice".
One thing I've discovered that took me by surprise, is that in "saving Griffin", I have unexpectedly saved myself. My own heart has been healed by being home with him, and with the opportunity to spend more time with my 19 yr old daughter, and has shown me that in this change, all of our family has had the opportunity for growth and learning. The universe continues to fill our lives with instances of hope, kindness, generosity, and love. I am grateful, more and more, for this life.
December 28, 2016
October 17, 2016
October 17th; Week 11 - Balance and Hope
The fall weather in New England is really indescribable. No picture I could ever take, and even the most professional photos that I've seen, can ever show the true glory of it. Much like the time I stood at the edge of a cliff on the Pacific Coast and watched a wave surging over rocky outcroppings over and over - and I cried at the amazing beauty of it... fall in New England awes me. Every day is different, the colors can change depending upon the sun and the cloud cover and what you see can be different from hour to hour. And all of it is a metaphor explaining the way I see my son. He is, in essence, fall in New England.
I was reading a book about parenting the Spirited Child (along with books about the Strong Willed child and the Sensitive Child, and the Explosive Child - do you see a theme here?) and while all of those words are easily applied to Griffin, they are not meant to be negative descriptions at all. They certainly can be viewed as negative, but looked at in a different light - perhaps with a little less cloud cover maybe? - they are words conveying strength, power, intuition, and energy. When I choose to look at G's actions in a positive light, I see so much more joy and potential than when I am seeing him through tired, worried, self-judging eyes.
I have had three friends impart a little of their perspective recently and it is interesting that as I look back on those moments of hearing their thoughts that the one friend whose comment was negative left me feeling beaten down and responsible for my sons energy - and the two perspectives that were positive allowed me the room to step back and see that G is such an amazing kid and I am, in fact, doing a really good job right here, right now, in this moment. Could I do better? Sure, I mean, can't we all? But once again I return to the absolute certainty that my journey here is about balance - and in the big picture, Griff and I are together creating a balance for him.
I was reading a book about parenting the Spirited Child (along with books about the Strong Willed child and the Sensitive Child, and the Explosive Child - do you see a theme here?) and while all of those words are easily applied to Griffin, they are not meant to be negative descriptions at all. They certainly can be viewed as negative, but looked at in a different light - perhaps with a little less cloud cover maybe? - they are words conveying strength, power, intuition, and energy. When I choose to look at G's actions in a positive light, I see so much more joy and potential than when I am seeing him through tired, worried, self-judging eyes.
I have had three friends impart a little of their perspective recently and it is interesting that as I look back on those moments of hearing their thoughts that the one friend whose comment was negative left me feeling beaten down and responsible for my sons energy - and the two perspectives that were positive allowed me the room to step back and see that G is such an amazing kid and I am, in fact, doing a really good job right here, right now, in this moment. Could I do better? Sure, I mean, can't we all? But once again I return to the absolute certainty that my journey here is about balance - and in the big picture, Griff and I are together creating a balance for him.
We are gearing up for Halloween. Costumes, candy, the
excitement... craft projects (which never go well when you mix an energetic and
quick thinking four year old with a hot glue gun and a multi-step process!) and
leaf collecting, apple picking, pumpkin decorating and the most perfect weather
ever have made the past couple of weeks mostly about fun. Seeing all of
the things I love viewed through Griffins joyful brown eyes is just more
evidence to my soul of the goodness of the universe, the love of God for me and
my family, and the balance of it all brings me hope. Hope may not be the feeling most people associate with fall, it may be surprising to hear that emotion linked to falling leaves and shorter days but that is yet another thing I've learned from Griffin: expectations aren't for us, everything is surprising, and hope is alive.
October 3, 2016
10/2; Week 9, RIDICULOUS
Nine weeks.
Nine weeks of not working my 8-4, M-F, dress up and make up, income producing job; of running on a tight timeline and alarms and schedules and rushing and driving to work with worry in my heart. Nine weeks of yoga pants and fuzzy socks and no makeup and no alarms and no planned routines.
Nine weeks of processing what it means, what new schedules and routines should (or shouldn't) be, what my expectations are, (and which ones are ridiculous and need to be let go of), of budgeting and counting pennies and planning ahead and negotiating kinks and figuring out what all of this means...to me.
Nine weeks.
Nine weeks of not being rushed off to daycare and being dropped into the midst of bright, noisy, chaos, of bringing lunch and snack and extra clothes and stuffy bear for naptime.
Nine weeks of not missing momma all day, of not fighting over toys, rules, routines; of not being forced to share, no waiting and taking turns; of not being scolded, overlooked, unheard, excluded, and getting negative attention, for just doing what I do; of not having to cry, or hold back feelings, of not feeling safe.
Nine weeks of processing what it means now to be home, what new schedules and routines are in place (or not), what the expectations are (or aren't), of doing things one on one with momma or my sister, of making choices that I want to make and experiencing things fresh and new right in the middle of the day! Like, the library, the movies, story time at the big book store, going to visit friends of momma's, hiking the rail trail and collecting pinecones.
Nine weeks of learning how to ask for what I want, and to ask for what I need like momma is teaching me, and of how to get positive attention, and of hugging and kissing and sitting and staying in and going out and playgrounds and hiking and settling in to the natural ebb and flow of rhythms that work...for me.
Things are falling into place. The universe, or God, is leveling it all out, taking care of us, providing income and time and giving us opportunities to learn from. We've made friends, with each other, as well as with others, and learned how to be bored with each other and how to enjoy each other. A lot of the learning has been on my end, truthfully. I've had to learn a lot about what matters, and what doesn't, and it isn't an easy thing for me. I'm a little older and I've been down this parenting road before but instead of making it easier, it means I kind of have some pre concieved expectations of how this should go. I've been wrong about almost everything.
Things are falling into place. I'm eating good food and checking them off on my food chart so I have enough vegetables and protein. I'm having fun playing superhero's with momma; not as much fun as when my papa plays, but still fun! I'm bored and restless sometimes but momma makes me play with my toys or run around outside and I forget that I'm bored. I think this is how it is supposed to be. I mean, I don't know, isn't this just what everyone else does too?
The one thing I was right about? Quitting my job to stay home with my 4 year old son.
Lately I've heard from more and more parents, and particularly parents of little boys, with stories similar to ours. Daycare providers with rigid expectations hidden behind creative descriptions of "developmentally appropriate routines"; teachers with poor communication skills taking to texting about behavior issues, calling parents out on a 2 year old that hits, or a 3 year old that doesn't want to sit still during circle time. Little boys being called "violent" or "anti-social"; parents being asked to consider psychiatry evals and medication - we are talking about kids as young as 2! As far as my knowledge reaches (a pre-college career of babysitting since age 11, a college education and 4 children, a career in infant development/parenting, and family advocacy) age 2 is still a BABY. Maybe some of those 'babies' are precocious and talking and and seeming to be mini-adults, but they are, by and large, babies. A baby does not have a behavior disorder. Let me be clear. Neither does the average 3 or 4 year old. I am appalled at the stories I've heard. Validated, sure, but appalled.
Griffin has some undesirable behaviors that we are working on, and isn't that what we are supposed to be doing? As parents, but also as teachers in a daycare or preschool, it's about teaching, instructing, leading by example, reinforcing - it's all a process. And because behavior is about feeling and emotion, about situation and circumstance, and a dozen other variables, you can't expect to teach them once and never have to review it again... it is not the same as learning the alphabet or the value of the numbers 1-10. Its about developing the capacity for patience and control: things that aren't in place with toddlers and preschoolers and so "behavior issues" are not issues at all - they are just behaviors.
Developmentally, skill and behavior are always undergoing change, maturation, development. Even adults learn new behaviors and social skills thru workplace training, interpersonal development, and experience. What? Oh, you mean "experience"? Yeah, thats a THING. Skills are developed, manners learned, appropriate interactions taught - through experience. Not thru inherent assimilation. So you can't say that a 3 year old, with only 3 years worth of life skills (and only about 1.5 years of that having any concrete value) is in need of psychiatric evaluation, or professional intervention, until you have put in the actual time and effort of working through those behaviors. Seriously. What has our entire educational system come to that early education workers are feeling like they need to advocate for psychiatric evaluations on BABIES??
Be patient. Be kind. Be accepting. Make no assumptions. Take things as they are - when dealing with tiny children - and be accommodating of the genuine honesty and integrity of small humans... and don't be physically abusive to them...no matter how frustrating and infuriating and discombobulating they might be... they are just learning things, all fresh and new, and practicing them moment by moment. Just love them...ridiculously!
Nine weeks of not working my 8-4, M-F, dress up and make up, income producing job; of running on a tight timeline and alarms and schedules and rushing and driving to work with worry in my heart. Nine weeks of yoga pants and fuzzy socks and no makeup and no alarms and no planned routines.
Nine weeks of processing what it means, what new schedules and routines should (or shouldn't) be, what my expectations are, (and which ones are ridiculous and need to be let go of), of budgeting and counting pennies and planning ahead and negotiating kinks and figuring out what all of this means...to me.
Nine weeks.
Nine weeks of not being rushed off to daycare and being dropped into the midst of bright, noisy, chaos, of bringing lunch and snack and extra clothes and stuffy bear for naptime.
Nine weeks of not missing momma all day, of not fighting over toys, rules, routines; of not being forced to share, no waiting and taking turns; of not being scolded, overlooked, unheard, excluded, and getting negative attention, for just doing what I do; of not having to cry, or hold back feelings, of not feeling safe.
Nine weeks of processing what it means now to be home, what new schedules and routines are in place (or not), what the expectations are (or aren't), of doing things one on one with momma or my sister, of making choices that I want to make and experiencing things fresh and new right in the middle of the day! Like, the library, the movies, story time at the big book store, going to visit friends of momma's, hiking the rail trail and collecting pinecones.
Nine weeks of learning how to ask for what I want, and to ask for what I need like momma is teaching me, and of how to get positive attention, and of hugging and kissing and sitting and staying in and going out and playgrounds and hiking and settling in to the natural ebb and flow of rhythms that work...for me.
Things are falling into place. The universe, or God, is leveling it all out, taking care of us, providing income and time and giving us opportunities to learn from. We've made friends, with each other, as well as with others, and learned how to be bored with each other and how to enjoy each other. A lot of the learning has been on my end, truthfully. I've had to learn a lot about what matters, and what doesn't, and it isn't an easy thing for me. I'm a little older and I've been down this parenting road before but instead of making it easier, it means I kind of have some pre concieved expectations of how this should go. I've been wrong about almost everything.
Things are falling into place. I'm eating good food and checking them off on my food chart so I have enough vegetables and protein. I'm having fun playing superhero's with momma; not as much fun as when my papa plays, but still fun! I'm bored and restless sometimes but momma makes me play with my toys or run around outside and I forget that I'm bored. I think this is how it is supposed to be. I mean, I don't know, isn't this just what everyone else does too?
The one thing I was right about? Quitting my job to stay home with my 4 year old son.
Lately I've heard from more and more parents, and particularly parents of little boys, with stories similar to ours. Daycare providers with rigid expectations hidden behind creative descriptions of "developmentally appropriate routines"; teachers with poor communication skills taking to texting about behavior issues, calling parents out on a 2 year old that hits, or a 3 year old that doesn't want to sit still during circle time. Little boys being called "violent" or "anti-social"; parents being asked to consider psychiatry evals and medication - we are talking about kids as young as 2! As far as my knowledge reaches (a pre-college career of babysitting since age 11, a college education and 4 children, a career in infant development/parenting, and family advocacy) age 2 is still a BABY. Maybe some of those 'babies' are precocious and talking and and seeming to be mini-adults, but they are, by and large, babies. A baby does not have a behavior disorder. Let me be clear. Neither does the average 3 or 4 year old. I am appalled at the stories I've heard. Validated, sure, but appalled.
Griffin has some undesirable behaviors that we are working on, and isn't that what we are supposed to be doing? As parents, but also as teachers in a daycare or preschool, it's about teaching, instructing, leading by example, reinforcing - it's all a process. And because behavior is about feeling and emotion, about situation and circumstance, and a dozen other variables, you can't expect to teach them once and never have to review it again... it is not the same as learning the alphabet or the value of the numbers 1-10. Its about developing the capacity for patience and control: things that aren't in place with toddlers and preschoolers and so "behavior issues" are not issues at all - they are just behaviors.
Developmentally, skill and behavior are always undergoing change, maturation, development. Even adults learn new behaviors and social skills thru workplace training, interpersonal development, and experience. What? Oh, you mean "experience"? Yeah, thats a THING. Skills are developed, manners learned, appropriate interactions taught - through experience. Not thru inherent assimilation. So you can't say that a 3 year old, with only 3 years worth of life skills (and only about 1.5 years of that having any concrete value) is in need of psychiatric evaluation, or professional intervention, until you have put in the actual time and effort of working through those behaviors. Seriously. What has our entire educational system come to that early education workers are feeling like they need to advocate for psychiatric evaluations on BABIES??
Be patient. Be kind. Be accepting. Make no assumptions. Take things as they are - when dealing with tiny children - and be accommodating of the genuine honesty and integrity of small humans... and don't be physically abusive to them...no matter how frustrating and infuriating and discombobulating they might be... they are just learning things, all fresh and new, and practicing them moment by moment. Just love them...ridiculously!
September 19, 2016
Monday 9/19 Week 7; fresh start
If you know me, and I mean know me, you will know that I'm not filling these posts with the nitty gritty hard stuff that has been happening daily. If you know me, you probably have listened to me whine and vent about the nitty gritty; about how hard things are and about the exhausting battle every day of trying to figure out what is going on and what I'm supposed to do about it and how I'm supposed to go about doing it with the resources I have. I don't fill these posts with all of that because it doesn't always reflect well on G and he has had enough people noticing his less than wonderful qualities and doesn't need more of that. My intention was to write about his successes, about how this year healed his hurts, about our journey through it. I didn't realize how much of this journey was going to be about me as much as it is about him, or that it was going to be important to talk about the ugly stuff as well as the pretty stuff (ah, balance, there is that word again!)...because the truth is that any journey is not just the destination, but the path you take to get there.
I have been in a funk and sort of spiraling downwards lately. Parenting is hard, parenting alone is an extra challenge, parenting alone and as a stay at home mom, with a limited circle of support has been a foreign country to me and I am not a very good traveler! It's exhausting to be with G all the time. When I was at home with him in the beginning, it was easy. He was a teensy helpless infant at at first. And then he was an aware and curious and engaged baby. He became a smart, quick thinking, active and funny toddler with a great sense of fun and enthusiasm. Then I went to work. He was 15 months at first, and maintained his adorable inquisitive and happy nature...until he didn't. When he was about 22 months, I began working full time, and have continued at full time up until my last day on August 4th of this year: two years and two months of being away from my son (who is now 4 years and 3 months old) for almost 10 hours a day, every weekday. Just about half his life.
Therefore, I was deliberate in my attention/time with him at every opportunity because my time was limited, a few hours each evening was all we had together aside from the weekend. Every moment counted and I measured it out in increments and made each one matter.
Now that I'm with him 24/7 I keep feeling like I need a break, I need some "me time" and time for some "self care" but I don't know how to get it or when it is going to happen, so - without deliberate intention - I have been emotionally disengaging from him (and from everything) as a way to get a break of some kind. I'm burying myself into scrolling Facebook, checking emails, making lists on Amazon, planning elaborate projects that I will realistically never be able to complete, chatting with friends in a different time zone...and not truly engaging with my son the way I intended, the way I should be, the way he needs me to.
It's a brave choice, what I did, to quit my job and stay home with my hurting son. And wise - a smart choice - to heal my small boy now, instead of trying to heal him later over scars and thick protective walls. But it wasn't necessarily thought out very well. I focused on finances mostly - trying to decide if I actually COULD stay home and still pay my rent and utilities and feed my kids. Perhaps I should have spent an equal amount of time planning out everything else: how much attention he needs, how much 'me-time' I need, and how to balance those; along with his need for mental stimulation and challenge, and for social interaction, and how I was going to meet all those needs all by myself...or IF I could meet all those needs all by myself. Today I am wallowing, smack dab, in a pit of self doubt, of worry, of fear...while my beloved boy asks me "why?" and "how come?" and "how?" and "what does that mean?"on a regular basis. I need time to think about an answer. But there is no time available. I need a re-do, a do-over, a fresh start. There isn't one though. And that is the whole point of this. I can't re-do it, not any of it. I can't just have a "fresh start" or a re-do, I have to just keep going in spite of it all.
So while there is no fresh start, there is this: the ugly messy nitty-gritty dirt of helping a small boy regain trust in adults, relearn boundaries and safety and security, and re-establish hierarchy and rules and the black and white truths that sometimes rules US instead of us ruling them... and so maybe it is a fresh start after all...
Therefore, I was deliberate in my attention/time with him at every opportunity because my time was limited, a few hours each evening was all we had together aside from the weekend. Every moment counted and I measured it out in increments and made each one matter.
Now that I'm with him 24/7 I keep feeling like I need a break, I need some "me time" and time for some "self care" but I don't know how to get it or when it is going to happen, so - without deliberate intention - I have been emotionally disengaging from him (and from everything) as a way to get a break of some kind. I'm burying myself into scrolling Facebook, checking emails, making lists on Amazon, planning elaborate projects that I will realistically never be able to complete, chatting with friends in a different time zone...and not truly engaging with my son the way I intended, the way I should be, the way he needs me to.
It's a brave choice, what I did, to quit my job and stay home with my hurting son. And wise - a smart choice - to heal my small boy now, instead of trying to heal him later over scars and thick protective walls. But it wasn't necessarily thought out very well. I focused on finances mostly - trying to decide if I actually COULD stay home and still pay my rent and utilities and feed my kids. Perhaps I should have spent an equal amount of time planning out everything else: how much attention he needs, how much 'me-time' I need, and how to balance those; along with his need for mental stimulation and challenge, and for social interaction, and how I was going to meet all those needs all by myself...or IF I could meet all those needs all by myself. Today I am wallowing, smack dab, in a pit of self doubt, of worry, of fear...while my beloved boy asks me "why?" and "how come?" and "how?" and "what does that mean?"on a regular basis. I need time to think about an answer. But there is no time available. I need a re-do, a do-over, a fresh start. There isn't one though. And that is the whole point of this. I can't re-do it, not any of it. I can't just have a "fresh start" or a re-do, I have to just keep going in spite of it all.
So while there is no fresh start, there is this: the ugly messy nitty-gritty dirt of helping a small boy regain trust in adults, relearn boundaries and safety and security, and re-establish hierarchy and rules and the black and white truths that sometimes rules US instead of us ruling them... and so maybe it is a fresh start after all...
September 18, 2016
Week 6 Ending...
One thing I've noticed this week is that while G can clearly ask for what he wants (a new hot wheels car, the wolverine figurine, candy corn...) and can equally get upset when he is denied his request, he does not clearly ask for what he needs. If he is hungry, he does not say, "Can I have lunch/a snack/something to eat?" What he does do is say, "my belly hurts/i feel yukky" and then it's a detective game on my part. Often he can't even identify what he needs even if I offer. If he says his belly hurts and I offer water or food, he says, "I don't know!"
I feel a sense of shame about this because I see this as a learned behavior. I think this is a learned behavior on MY part as well though. I mean, isn't that what a good mom does? Anticipate and identify the needs of your child before they even know it - and then fulfill those needs before your child actually NEEDS them! That is what I've sort of been intrinsically inclined to do, even considering it as the right thing to do: I know what you need because I'm the mom. But I can see now, in watching G, how wrong this is.
He needs to identify his own needs, and ask to have them met, or learn to meet them himself. So this week, I'm starting to help him with that. I'm changing my language as well. I say things like, "wow, my mouth is dry, I must need some water!" or "My tummy is making noises, I must need to put some food in it!" and even "my head is hurting, I need some water to drink and I need to rest for a few minutes." and when G is crying I'm starting to say, "What do you need?" A little while ago he said, "I scratched my foot! help me make it better!" I asked him, "what do you need me to do?" and when he said, "hug me!" I replied, "you need a hug? ok, ask me for what you need, say, 'i need a hug'" and he did...he said, "I need a hug to make my foot feel better!" Its a small start, a slow start, but G and I, we will learn it together. Maybe I'll pass on some of this to my other kids as well, I kind of think they probably need to relearn this along with us!
We definitely had a low key week. I think we are getting bored with each other now. I'm going to have to figure out something for us or this is going to be a very long winter ahead! I have discovered that I am not very good at "playing". Its not something I have a lot of skill at. I can set up activities like playdough, coloring, playing a game or watching a movie, but as far as mindless "playing" with lego's or toys, I'm not very good. Well, perhaps I'm just not very good at following G's rules - which, as you may know if you know any four year olds, tend to change frequently and get made up on the spot. I may have to work on this skill! I did try to be more mindful of G napping this week but I think we are at a crossroads of nap/no nap. If he were physically busier, the nap would happen naturally I think, but many days we aren't quite as busy so the napping is harder for him but still needed by me. I may have to transition to "quiet time" on his bed so I can get MY refueling time in! Ah look, an opportunity to identify what I need and to figure out how to meet it for myself!
Week 7 - we are ready for you!
I feel a sense of shame about this because I see this as a learned behavior. I think this is a learned behavior on MY part as well though. I mean, isn't that what a good mom does? Anticipate and identify the needs of your child before they even know it - and then fulfill those needs before your child actually NEEDS them! That is what I've sort of been intrinsically inclined to do, even considering it as the right thing to do: I know what you need because I'm the mom. But I can see now, in watching G, how wrong this is.
He needs to identify his own needs, and ask to have them met, or learn to meet them himself. So this week, I'm starting to help him with that. I'm changing my language as well. I say things like, "wow, my mouth is dry, I must need some water!" or "My tummy is making noises, I must need to put some food in it!" and even "my head is hurting, I need some water to drink and I need to rest for a few minutes." and when G is crying I'm starting to say, "What do you need?" A little while ago he said, "I scratched my foot! help me make it better!" I asked him, "what do you need me to do?" and when he said, "hug me!" I replied, "you need a hug? ok, ask me for what you need, say, 'i need a hug'" and he did...he said, "I need a hug to make my foot feel better!" Its a small start, a slow start, but G and I, we will learn it together. Maybe I'll pass on some of this to my other kids as well, I kind of think they probably need to relearn this along with us!
We definitely had a low key week. I think we are getting bored with each other now. I'm going to have to figure out something for us or this is going to be a very long winter ahead! I have discovered that I am not very good at "playing". Its not something I have a lot of skill at. I can set up activities like playdough, coloring, playing a game or watching a movie, but as far as mindless "playing" with lego's or toys, I'm not very good. Well, perhaps I'm just not very good at following G's rules - which, as you may know if you know any four year olds, tend to change frequently and get made up on the spot. I may have to work on this skill! I did try to be more mindful of G napping this week but I think we are at a crossroads of nap/no nap. If he were physically busier, the nap would happen naturally I think, but many days we aren't quite as busy so the napping is harder for him but still needed by me. I may have to transition to "quiet time" on his bed so I can get MY refueling time in! Ah look, an opportunity to identify what I need and to figure out how to meet it for myself!
Week 7 - we are ready for you!
September 12, 2016
Monday 9/12; Week 6
When you do not have a job, and aren't actively seeking one, the days can all run into each other with little variation, a Wednesday feeling the same as a Saturday for instance. I suppose if I were a super scheduled routine oriented person it might be different. I have tried that route - the first few days of staying home with G I sought out all the local activities we could go to on any given day and put them all on the calendar. Some days it seemed we had to choose between two or even three activities that were all happening at the same time. As much as G likes to go out and do things though (he is super smart and has a very very busy brain that leads him into trouble when he is bored) he also does not like to have to be on a schedule, preferring to go at his own pace, transition when he feels ready, and to have a lot of control over his own self. Don't we all? I suppose there is benefit in learning how to adapt to enforced routines, scheduled transitions, etc in preparation for school and life etc but right now is OUR time. Time for G to get to know himself, trust his environment, trust me, and gain back some control that he lost when an adult decided to steal that away him.
As I've moved through the past 5 weeks I've battled with myself about how to navigate this time. Should I be structuring our days? Should I be limiting kindle/tv screen time? Should I be doing specific preschool activities with him? Should we join a class of some kind? Go to story-time? Do educational activities at museums? I mean, isn't that what GOOD parents do? According to Pinterest, I should be cooking with him, setting up sensory play stations, doing science experiments with food coloring and dish soap, or I could be journaling with him, we could learn music together on youtube, we could volunteer somewhere - oh all the ways I am failing my son are right there on Pinterest, let me tell you! But after last week, in which we did absolutely nothing, every single day, and in which G woke up when he wanted to, napped in the car on a drive to pick up H (or didn't nap at all) and went to bed whenever he was so tired that his behavior resembled flying monkeys... I think its again coming down to balance. Some days neither of us have the energy to pull it all together in time to get to a story hour, or I don't feel like dealing with the unknown factors of going to a place we've never been to do an activity he might not even enjoy. Watching G zoom around the backyard talking to himself as he imagines superheroes fighting off giant spiders, or seeing him come inside to get his own water by getting his stool and climbing up to reach the tap, or listening to him explain a drawing he's made of a submarine with wings and rocket boosters and a special port for 'the guys' to get out, or building lego's with him seem like a pretty good way to spend our time. We go grocery shopping and make friends with anyone who will smile back. We go to the playground and practice sharing and taking turns. We read signs and labels. We are doing a pretty good job I think.
This weekend did show me, again, that I do need to watch out for G's level of over stimulation and his overall mood before subjecting ourselves to anything extra. Going to the playground at 3:30 in the afternoon on a hot day when he didn't nap and was already fractious was probably not my wisest choice. But no blood was shed so I call that a win! He is still fighting off a cold from last week complete with stuffy nose and occasional cough, and he has a couple of mosquito bites which he has big reactions to so we will still keep it low key again this week. I do have a new employee orientation coming up and I feel a little anxiety about the upcoming training I have to do and the amount of time I'll need to be away from him and how that will play out but I have trusted the universe with all things lately so I'm trusting it with this thing as well. I'll need some consistent childcare for 4 days in a row for a couple of weeks and I am hopeful I can find something that works for G without disrupting him too much. He doesn't do very well when his older siblings are in charge and I'm sure I know why, but getting them on board to make things better hasn't been very successful!
So here we are. Week 6. G doesn't talk about preschool at all. He's mentioned one or two friends but only once or twice. He's so amazing and I"m so glad I get to spend this time with hims whether its unstructured or routine, whether it's boring errands or pinterest worthy activities. Watching him grow and change is a gift, even on the bad days when both of us cry. Ever since the day I made him sit on the couch with the little guy I was nannying so they could 'work it out', he suggests that as a resolution to just about every problem. If I say, "G, I really need you to stop/start XYZ so how can we come up with a solution?" He replies, "how 'bout we sit on the couch and work it out?" Makes me laugh every time! And we do, though. We sit on the couch, we talk, and we work things out. I love that this has become something he sees as a valuable tool. I feel like we are just entering a stage where I can start seeing more positive changes as he feels more and more settled into our new way of living. There were donuts for breakfast today so life feels pretty good to him! There will be carrots at lunch though, because, balance...
As I've moved through the past 5 weeks I've battled with myself about how to navigate this time. Should I be structuring our days? Should I be limiting kindle/tv screen time? Should I be doing specific preschool activities with him? Should we join a class of some kind? Go to story-time? Do educational activities at museums? I mean, isn't that what GOOD parents do? According to Pinterest, I should be cooking with him, setting up sensory play stations, doing science experiments with food coloring and dish soap, or I could be journaling with him, we could learn music together on youtube, we could volunteer somewhere - oh all the ways I am failing my son are right there on Pinterest, let me tell you! But after last week, in which we did absolutely nothing, every single day, and in which G woke up when he wanted to, napped in the car on a drive to pick up H (or didn't nap at all) and went to bed whenever he was so tired that his behavior resembled flying monkeys... I think its again coming down to balance. Some days neither of us have the energy to pull it all together in time to get to a story hour, or I don't feel like dealing with the unknown factors of going to a place we've never been to do an activity he might not even enjoy. Watching G zoom around the backyard talking to himself as he imagines superheroes fighting off giant spiders, or seeing him come inside to get his own water by getting his stool and climbing up to reach the tap, or listening to him explain a drawing he's made of a submarine with wings and rocket boosters and a special port for 'the guys' to get out, or building lego's with him seem like a pretty good way to spend our time. We go grocery shopping and make friends with anyone who will smile back. We go to the playground and practice sharing and taking turns. We read signs and labels. We are doing a pretty good job I think.
This weekend did show me, again, that I do need to watch out for G's level of over stimulation and his overall mood before subjecting ourselves to anything extra. Going to the playground at 3:30 in the afternoon on a hot day when he didn't nap and was already fractious was probably not my wisest choice. But no blood was shed so I call that a win! He is still fighting off a cold from last week complete with stuffy nose and occasional cough, and he has a couple of mosquito bites which he has big reactions to so we will still keep it low key again this week. I do have a new employee orientation coming up and I feel a little anxiety about the upcoming training I have to do and the amount of time I'll need to be away from him and how that will play out but I have trusted the universe with all things lately so I'm trusting it with this thing as well. I'll need some consistent childcare for 4 days in a row for a couple of weeks and I am hopeful I can find something that works for G without disrupting him too much. He doesn't do very well when his older siblings are in charge and I'm sure I know why, but getting them on board to make things better hasn't been very successful!
So here we are. Week 6. G doesn't talk about preschool at all. He's mentioned one or two friends but only once or twice. He's so amazing and I"m so glad I get to spend this time with hims whether its unstructured or routine, whether it's boring errands or pinterest worthy activities. Watching him grow and change is a gift, even on the bad days when both of us cry. Ever since the day I made him sit on the couch with the little guy I was nannying so they could 'work it out', he suggests that as a resolution to just about every problem. If I say, "G, I really need you to stop/start XYZ so how can we come up with a solution?" He replies, "how 'bout we sit on the couch and work it out?" Makes me laugh every time! And we do, though. We sit on the couch, we talk, and we work things out. I love that this has become something he sees as a valuable tool. I feel like we are just entering a stage where I can start seeing more positive changes as he feels more and more settled into our new way of living. There were donuts for breakfast today so life feels pretty good to him! There will be carrots at lunch though, because, balance...
September 9, 2016
Friday 9/9; Day 25...insight and gratitude
It was a long 3 day holiday weekend. And then, life happened.
***Just for the sake of authenticity, I want to be clear that G is not living in a standard 2 parent household with a sibling group and extended family resources. His life isn't a picture perfect life that would make a painful, scary, daycare situation something he could adjust to with any grace or adaptability. There are a lot of other stressors in G's life that contribute to the fears and the struggle for control and the generalized defensiveness and unpredictability in his behaviors.***
There are often so many things that pop up that I think, "ooh! I have to blog that because it's important!" but by the end of any given day, I'm exhausted mentally, a little tired physically, and just worn out spiritually. I'm not just the primary parent for G, I'm the ONLY parent. I bear the whole burden, and G isn't my only kiddo. I worry about my oldest who lives 3000 miles away from me, I wake up in the middle of the night consumed by thoughts about my 19 yo son living a mere 15 minutes away but who isn't one for a regular chatty phone call and rarely even replies to a text message, and then there is my sweet H, my 18 yo daughter who lives with me and G and who needs just as much as G. The three of us form a semi functional unit but she takes as much of my time and energy as does G, just in a different way. I am one momma, split in 4 ways, and none of those 'ways' is even, and some of them sort of overlap, and it leaves almost nothing left.
I realize that in the overall scheme of things, I'm one of the lucky ones. G's dad is financially responsible. He is a fair and decent man and lets me have full decision making over parenting, and comes around to see G regularly. My other three kids are healthy, employed, and two of them are paying their own way thru community college. Although I just quit my job for very valid reasons, that alone is a privilege I can't dismiss. I have safe housing, with a yard. I have a new, reliable, car to drive. I have health insurance. Oh my god, I have health insurance. And after last fall and winter, I can not be grateful ENOUGH for health insurance. It may not be perfect, but as often as we were at the urgent care clinic and even the ER, and as many prescriptions as we went through... I'm grateful. So with all of these advantages, including a college education of my own and some quality (if not quantity!) friends, I try not to despair over my small boy who continues to be an enigma to me.
This week has brought us a cold and a cough, a phase of baby talk and whining, a lot of discussion about control and choice and even about status: he is the child and I am the adult. This week brought some potty issues and some 'helpless victim' behavior on G's behalf, some 'putting my foot down' on my behalf, and some thoughts about what it means to have unstructured time to fritter away, to have boredom, to waste time and BE restless, and what the benefits are in having that opportunity. This week, I didn't structure much at all. I let G indulge in his Kindle. I let him eat when he wanted to eat, and sleep (or not) mostly when he wanted to. It wasn't all roses, let me tell you!
I'm undergoing some major household restructuring to make our 1 bedroom apartment workable for 3 people - including all my needs for alone time and private space as well as H's need for privacy and a place to do schoolwork, and G's need for playspace. So I was...busy. Busy packing up things, moving things, re-organizing things...being creative, and overwhelmed, and frustrated, and being tired. We had some frustrating moments, all 3 of us really, and some really sweet and tender moments, and some super fun moments as well. Balance, it's all in the balance, as the universe keeps insisting and keeps bringing to my attention. And now I think, how do I teach G about balance? Perhaps this is the thing he needs most to learn about - the balance of good and bad, the balance of trust and mistrust, the balance of success and failure, the balance of hunger and fullness...of living, and working, and playing...and paying. How do I show that to a FOUR YEAR OLD? How do I 'not' show that to a four year old? I've prayed a lot this week. And I know I've been heard. Thank you for listening.
***Just for the sake of authenticity, I want to be clear that G is not living in a standard 2 parent household with a sibling group and extended family resources. His life isn't a picture perfect life that would make a painful, scary, daycare situation something he could adjust to with any grace or adaptability. There are a lot of other stressors in G's life that contribute to the fears and the struggle for control and the generalized defensiveness and unpredictability in his behaviors.***
There are often so many things that pop up that I think, "ooh! I have to blog that because it's important!" but by the end of any given day, I'm exhausted mentally, a little tired physically, and just worn out spiritually. I'm not just the primary parent for G, I'm the ONLY parent. I bear the whole burden, and G isn't my only kiddo. I worry about my oldest who lives 3000 miles away from me, I wake up in the middle of the night consumed by thoughts about my 19 yo son living a mere 15 minutes away but who isn't one for a regular chatty phone call and rarely even replies to a text message, and then there is my sweet H, my 18 yo daughter who lives with me and G and who needs just as much as G. The three of us form a semi functional unit but she takes as much of my time and energy as does G, just in a different way. I am one momma, split in 4 ways, and none of those 'ways' is even, and some of them sort of overlap, and it leaves almost nothing left.
I realize that in the overall scheme of things, I'm one of the lucky ones. G's dad is financially responsible. He is a fair and decent man and lets me have full decision making over parenting, and comes around to see G regularly. My other three kids are healthy, employed, and two of them are paying their own way thru community college. Although I just quit my job for very valid reasons, that alone is a privilege I can't dismiss. I have safe housing, with a yard. I have a new, reliable, car to drive. I have health insurance. Oh my god, I have health insurance. And after last fall and winter, I can not be grateful ENOUGH for health insurance. It may not be perfect, but as often as we were at the urgent care clinic and even the ER, and as many prescriptions as we went through... I'm grateful. So with all of these advantages, including a college education of my own and some quality (if not quantity!) friends, I try not to despair over my small boy who continues to be an enigma to me.
This week has brought us a cold and a cough, a phase of baby talk and whining, a lot of discussion about control and choice and even about status: he is the child and I am the adult. This week brought some potty issues and some 'helpless victim' behavior on G's behalf, some 'putting my foot down' on my behalf, and some thoughts about what it means to have unstructured time to fritter away, to have boredom, to waste time and BE restless, and what the benefits are in having that opportunity. This week, I didn't structure much at all. I let G indulge in his Kindle. I let him eat when he wanted to eat, and sleep (or not) mostly when he wanted to. It wasn't all roses, let me tell you!
I'm undergoing some major household restructuring to make our 1 bedroom apartment workable for 3 people - including all my needs for alone time and private space as well as H's need for privacy and a place to do schoolwork, and G's need for playspace. So I was...busy. Busy packing up things, moving things, re-organizing things...being creative, and overwhelmed, and frustrated, and being tired. We had some frustrating moments, all 3 of us really, and some really sweet and tender moments, and some super fun moments as well. Balance, it's all in the balance, as the universe keeps insisting and keeps bringing to my attention. And now I think, how do I teach G about balance? Perhaps this is the thing he needs most to learn about - the balance of good and bad, the balance of trust and mistrust, the balance of success and failure, the balance of hunger and fullness...of living, and working, and playing...and paying. How do I show that to a FOUR YEAR OLD? How do I 'not' show that to a four year old? I've prayed a lot this week. And I know I've been heard. Thank you for listening.
September 2, 2016
Friday 9/2; Day20
We are helpers, it's what we do.
That's what I said to G today. I said, "We help people! We are kind, we give what we can and we help!" and I smiled brightly into his little face.
Later on, around 7:30pm, as we got into the car from our last stop before home, after we'd nanny'd at a house more than an hour from us, after we'd stopped and helped a stranded family on a busy main road and lent our phone, our time, and some extra toys and wipes to their sweet baby, after we'd helped with a runaway grocery carraige and some dropped change, G said to me: "Tomorrow is our day right? We can be in our 'jama's and not do any things? We don't hafta take care of anyone else?"
My heart broke.
My eyes opened wide.
My whole soul flooded with awareness, with heartbreak, with love, with regret and peace and deep deep sorrow all at once.
This "healing" my son? Its as much for me as it is for him. The lesson in it all is this: priority.
I need to take care of G. I need to heal G. I need to stop taking in and taking on all the stray 'needs' of others and focus on ONE thing. Right now that is G. I can't go back and fix the mistakes and screwed up priorities from my past, but I can acknowledge and be aware of what my priorities are NOW. I can say "no"; I can say, " I'm sorry, not at this time" and I can say, "oh that's too bad, I wish you luck!" and I can hold my sweet boy in my arms and listen to him tell me about having chocolate chips in my eyes and how yummy that would be, and I can hold his hand as we walk along the sidewalk, pointing out flowers, heart shaped rocks, and acorns with funny 'hats'. I can tuck him in to HIS bed, with stories HE chooses, from HIS bookshelf, and I can lay down and gaze into his chocolate chip eyes and see the whole universe reflected there. I can take care of him, because I am a helper, it's what I do. He needs me. I need him. And that is how this day ends - G and I needing each other, and me deciding that his needs supercede all others.
Bring on Day 21 - I got this!
That's what I said to G today. I said, "We help people! We are kind, we give what we can and we help!" and I smiled brightly into his little face.
Later on, around 7:30pm, as we got into the car from our last stop before home, after we'd nanny'd at a house more than an hour from us, after we'd stopped and helped a stranded family on a busy main road and lent our phone, our time, and some extra toys and wipes to their sweet baby, after we'd helped with a runaway grocery carraige and some dropped change, G said to me: "Tomorrow is our day right? We can be in our 'jama's and not do any things? We don't hafta take care of anyone else?"
My heart broke.
My eyes opened wide.
My whole soul flooded with awareness, with heartbreak, with love, with regret and peace and deep deep sorrow all at once.
This "healing" my son? Its as much for me as it is for him. The lesson in it all is this: priority.
I need to take care of G. I need to heal G. I need to stop taking in and taking on all the stray 'needs' of others and focus on ONE thing. Right now that is G. I can't go back and fix the mistakes and screwed up priorities from my past, but I can acknowledge and be aware of what my priorities are NOW. I can say "no"; I can say, " I'm sorry, not at this time" and I can say, "oh that's too bad, I wish you luck!" and I can hold my sweet boy in my arms and listen to him tell me about having chocolate chips in my eyes and how yummy that would be, and I can hold his hand as we walk along the sidewalk, pointing out flowers, heart shaped rocks, and acorns with funny 'hats'. I can tuck him in to HIS bed, with stories HE chooses, from HIS bookshelf, and I can lay down and gaze into his chocolate chip eyes and see the whole universe reflected there. I can take care of him, because I am a helper, it's what I do. He needs me. I need him. And that is how this day ends - G and I needing each other, and me deciding that his needs supercede all others.
Bring on Day 21 - I got this!
September 1, 2016
Thursday 9/1; Day 19
Wednesday was a long and exhausting day of internal battle.
I fought with myself over certain lifestyle choices I've made and the choices I could have made instead.
I fought with demons that I can't seem to shake, who torment me with guilt and doubt and regret.
I fought with my intuition, my obligation, my nature and my nurture...and I fought with my very soul. I also fought with a very small, very fierce, 4 year old. At the end of it all, there was not a winner, but because the universe is inherently good, there was not a definite loser either. At the end of it all, every child I was in charge of was asleep in his/her own bed, every adult that mattered was also asleep in his/her own bed (or at least asleep in A bed!), and I managed to get almost 3 full hours of sleep before Thursday arrived.
Thursday dawned grey, damp, and with rain clouds looming. But the bright, easy, and genuine grin beaming from G's face was all the sun I needed. After days of tension and struggle, this day was all ours and ours alone. I smiled as much as he did and we spent a sweet quiet morning snuggling on the couch and reconnecting. A slow paced trip to the grocery store and the acquisition of a new toy plus the impromptu purchase of usually forbidden hot-dogs made it a total win for G. He slipped easily into a nap and then when he woke up, he played quietly on his own under the watchful eyes of his big sister while I went to an interview. Later, he ate like I've never seen - a snack, a full dinner including never before eaten Salmon, and then dessert, and then another two snacks afterward. We chatted about the next day's activities and the little one we would be nannying together, how we were going to take care of him just for one day, and that he was a little guy who needed a big boy to help take care of him. A friend of mine had suggested that maybe I take the time to give G a very clear timeline of any nanny gigs to help him process it, to help him understand that it would be a finite experience, that it would have a beginning and an end. I hope it helps my boy, because what we both went thru the past few days was really hard, and I want to heal my son, not cause him more hurt.
And with that in mind, I am joyfully celebrating a couple of victories tonight. Grateful for the income that nanny-ing has given us in this fragile time, but knowing it is not ideal for us, for G, I was so grateful to accept the offer of the per-diem night shift position I had applied to before leaving my job. They called me today as I was on my way home from a different interview for some overnight postpartum doula work I agreed to. The universe is so openly protecting and providing for me right now that I can hardly bear to acknowledge it for fear of it slipping away like some big teaser. I try to remind myself that I am the daughter of God, I am a child of the Universe. I AM value and worth, and my son is deserving of ME - and therefore I am deserving of what God and the universe provide so that I can provide, for him. And that is the end of Day 19.
August 30, 2016
Tuesday 8/30 Day 17; desperation and miracles
I was at the end of my store of patience today.
In a moment of desperation, I put two preschoolers (age 4 and 5) on a couch and told them to work it out.
Prior to this I've endured endless arguments and fights and bickering over who gets to talk, and about what, who gets to pee first, who's imaginary car is more red than the other one's... and who said the word "blue" like 'blew' and who said it like 'bleue'...from the perspective of a 4 year old and 5 year old respectively. Deep breath. And one more...keep going...
So the boys were absolutely hilarious. Sitting on the couch, no, rephrase: climbing on and vaulting over the couch, and discussing "how to play together" was like one of those YouTube videos of someone coming out of anaesthesia and talking about unicorns and God. I've never laughed so hard! Or been so amazed at how well a theory worked.
Previously I had flipped thru a few books on Non Violent Communication and Parenting - set out for me by the mom of the kids I'm nannying, of course. I've heard of it before and my initial impression was along the lines of "good for her, but not for me". I mean, it makes good solid sense if you have a child that is compatible with discussion and empathy and in touch with their feelings. In spite of my best efforts and interest and self-education, my fourth child is NOT that child. My child responds well to clear concise black-n-white instantaneous reaction. But I keep trying. So at 4:30pm and at the end of my rope, I grabbed both boys up and sat them on the couch and forcefully insisted that they "work it out!" And so they did.
After 20 minutes on the couch, they played together joyfully and cooperatively for 45 minutes, and then thru dinner, and then afterwards. My god, what miracle did I stumble over??
It will never work again, I'm sure of it... but for today it was a blessing in a moment of absolute desperation. I guess it's true: miracles are the product of desperation. I was desperate, it was a miracle. And that is all I need to say about Tuesday and Day 17.
In a moment of desperation, I put two preschoolers (age 4 and 5) on a couch and told them to work it out.
Prior to this I've endured endless arguments and fights and bickering over who gets to talk, and about what, who gets to pee first, who's imaginary car is more red than the other one's... and who said the word "blue" like 'blew' and who said it like 'bleue'...from the perspective of a 4 year old and 5 year old respectively. Deep breath. And one more...keep going...
So the boys were absolutely hilarious. Sitting on the couch, no, rephrase: climbing on and vaulting over the couch, and discussing "how to play together" was like one of those YouTube videos of someone coming out of anaesthesia and talking about unicorns and God. I've never laughed so hard! Or been so amazed at how well a theory worked.
Previously I had flipped thru a few books on Non Violent Communication and Parenting - set out for me by the mom of the kids I'm nannying, of course. I've heard of it before and my initial impression was along the lines of "good for her, but not for me". I mean, it makes good solid sense if you have a child that is compatible with discussion and empathy and in touch with their feelings. In spite of my best efforts and interest and self-education, my fourth child is NOT that child. My child responds well to clear concise black-n-white instantaneous reaction. But I keep trying. So at 4:30pm and at the end of my rope, I grabbed both boys up and sat them on the couch and forcefully insisted that they "work it out!" And so they did.
After 20 minutes on the couch, they played together joyfully and cooperatively for 45 minutes, and then thru dinner, and then afterwards. My god, what miracle did I stumble over??
It will never work again, I'm sure of it... but for today it was a blessing in a moment of absolute desperation. I guess it's true: miracles are the product of desperation. I was desperate, it was a miracle. And that is all I need to say about Tuesday and Day 17.
August 29, 2016
Monday 8/29; Day 16...and balance
In my daily life, I try to focus on balance. Balance good nutrition with ice cream, a late night with a next day nap, sadness and grief with some joy and laughter. If you pay attention enough, you'll recognize the ebb and flow of each day and then when things feel really bad for whatever reason, you can hold onto the knowledge that the balance of it all will return. It helps me to get thru those tough times, to know that something smoother is just around the corner. However, I tend to forget that when things are smooth and pretty, there's usually some storms brewing ahead. Thank you universe!
Saturday night at dinner I served meals to two of my own kiddos (G and H) and the two that I'm nannying, plus J (G's dad). Six people total. And, let me remind you, this was not some special planned dinner party! It was one mom feeding a rotating cast of offspring on a hot, summer night. I pulled off two vegetarian plates, one gluten free/salicylate free plate, one picky eater plate, and food enough for all. We all sat at the table together and ate and talked and shared and there was a moment of absolute completeness in my heart (save for the fact I was missing two others of my own, plus a couple of J's kids) but it just felt full and sweet and safe and like it was supposed to be exactly the way it was. I said many many words of gratitude in my mind. And my imagination is running wild with this joy and with how to recreate it in the future.
and then there's the balance...
I have been frustrated with some of G's behaviors lately. They mostly seem to be when the nanny-kids are around. One person said maybe it was a jealousy issue. I don't think so, but I'm not discounting it entirely. I feel more like it's related to trust and safety - about how much G trusts me and feels safe with me overall, and somehow when I am in charge of more children, he begins to feel threatened somehow, or maybe his inability to be flexible creates conflict and THEN he feels fear about how that will play out without trust in me to navigate it appropriately? This ultimately manifests in behaviors where he argues with everything I say and really tries to be in control of everything he can and then gets irrationally upset when he is not in charge. Also? Everything in life is nooooot fairrrrrrrr; just in case you were wondering. It's not fair that sometimes he can't be in charge of who is allowed to talk and what the topic is. The sky isn't blue, its not, it's not at all. And it isn't only 2:00 in the afternoon, it isn't, no, no it's not at ALL, the clock is wrong, it's NOT FAIR. It is mentally exhausting, for both of us. Honestly, it exhausts me and makes it really hard to enjoy any time with him because its such a barrage and onslaught of negativity that when he IS being the sweet and tender boy that I know, I'm still seething and irritated as hell. Oh Universe, are you still laughing? Of course you are... This nanny gig is one loooong stretch.
These behaviors are only obvious and having an impact when the nanny kids are around, the rest of the time he is his usual sweet, funny self. And thus, I remain perplexed.
The reason I think it has to do with trust and feeling safe is because these kinds of behaviors were new to him and popped up after he'd been in the daycare center where he was mistreated. The Child Protective Services program (where I was directed to once I figured out he was being hurt) said that those kinds of oppositional behaviors toward a parent are typical in abuse situations and can stem from a child losing trust in the adult who sent them into the situation where they were hurt. Ugh. So, yes, my son lost trust in my ability to keep him safe. I am a loser. The truth hurts. As soon as I pulled him from that place, however, I saw a distinct lessening of those behaviors and he started getting calmer, sweeter, and more cooperative, and more affectionate. It was a sweet time, although it was very brief. Once I'd found a new place for him to go to, a lot of those behaviors began surfacing again. I do temper my observation with the fact that he is often easily overwhelmed, gets tired and over stimulated quickly, and needs a lot of 'alone time'; however those negative and distrustful behaviors went beyond the exceptions.
I took him to a therapist. I talked to his pediatrician (for the record, she is the same pedi ALL my kids have had, a very trusted female, mom, and professional whom I've had positive difference of opinions with and highly value/trust her opinion; and is someone who knows me and my family). I talked to friends, and non-friends, and I researched mental health issues in preschoolers, and in abused kids, and in average kids. I researched my own parenting, my triggers, my habitual responses, how to change my parenting/triggers/habitual responses... and Cheezncrackers!!! Nothing shed light on these particular behaviors then, or now.
So if you have a suggestion, or opinion, or some sort of outside insight? Please... please speak up. Maybe it's just jealousy. pffft.
Anyway... balance. It was awesome, and then it wasn't... and everyday that I nanny these sweet kids, it's the same. There is laughter, and there is frustrated growling. There are battles for control, battles for authority and position, and subdued, penitent cuddles and apologies. There is intense connection tempered by animalistic separation. Oh universe, trusting you is the hardest thing...and when I think of how much I personally believe in and trust my own God, it's even more of a challenge to just throw my hands up and say, "It's all up to you, cuz I have NO power here at all!" But what else can I do that I haven't already tried?
And maybe, somehow, that is in fact the essential point that I need to embrace. Trust. Hope. Believe. Honor. Accept. That's a lot for day 16...and for a 4 year old...
Saturday night at dinner I served meals to two of my own kiddos (G and H) and the two that I'm nannying, plus J (G's dad). Six people total. And, let me remind you, this was not some special planned dinner party! It was one mom feeding a rotating cast of offspring on a hot, summer night. I pulled off two vegetarian plates, one gluten free/salicylate free plate, one picky eater plate, and food enough for all. We all sat at the table together and ate and talked and shared and there was a moment of absolute completeness in my heart (save for the fact I was missing two others of my own, plus a couple of J's kids) but it just felt full and sweet and safe and like it was supposed to be exactly the way it was. I said many many words of gratitude in my mind. And my imagination is running wild with this joy and with how to recreate it in the future.
and then there's the balance...
I have been frustrated with some of G's behaviors lately. They mostly seem to be when the nanny-kids are around. One person said maybe it was a jealousy issue. I don't think so, but I'm not discounting it entirely. I feel more like it's related to trust and safety - about how much G trusts me and feels safe with me overall, and somehow when I am in charge of more children, he begins to feel threatened somehow, or maybe his inability to be flexible creates conflict and THEN he feels fear about how that will play out without trust in me to navigate it appropriately? This ultimately manifests in behaviors where he argues with everything I say and really tries to be in control of everything he can and then gets irrationally upset when he is not in charge. Also? Everything in life is nooooot fairrrrrrrr; just in case you were wondering. It's not fair that sometimes he can't be in charge of who is allowed to talk and what the topic is. The sky isn't blue, its not, it's not at all. And it isn't only 2:00 in the afternoon, it isn't, no, no it's not at ALL, the clock is wrong, it's NOT FAIR. It is mentally exhausting, for both of us. Honestly, it exhausts me and makes it really hard to enjoy any time with him because its such a barrage and onslaught of negativity that when he IS being the sweet and tender boy that I know, I'm still seething and irritated as hell. Oh Universe, are you still laughing? Of course you are... This nanny gig is one loooong stretch.
These behaviors are only obvious and having an impact when the nanny kids are around, the rest of the time he is his usual sweet, funny self. And thus, I remain perplexed.
The reason I think it has to do with trust and feeling safe is because these kinds of behaviors were new to him and popped up after he'd been in the daycare center where he was mistreated. The Child Protective Services program (where I was directed to once I figured out he was being hurt) said that those kinds of oppositional behaviors toward a parent are typical in abuse situations and can stem from a child losing trust in the adult who sent them into the situation where they were hurt. Ugh. So, yes, my son lost trust in my ability to keep him safe. I am a loser. The truth hurts. As soon as I pulled him from that place, however, I saw a distinct lessening of those behaviors and he started getting calmer, sweeter, and more cooperative, and more affectionate. It was a sweet time, although it was very brief. Once I'd found a new place for him to go to, a lot of those behaviors began surfacing again. I do temper my observation with the fact that he is often easily overwhelmed, gets tired and over stimulated quickly, and needs a lot of 'alone time'; however those negative and distrustful behaviors went beyond the exceptions.
I took him to a therapist. I talked to his pediatrician (for the record, she is the same pedi ALL my kids have had, a very trusted female, mom, and professional whom I've had positive difference of opinions with and highly value/trust her opinion; and is someone who knows me and my family). I talked to friends, and non-friends, and I researched mental health issues in preschoolers, and in abused kids, and in average kids. I researched my own parenting, my triggers, my habitual responses, how to change my parenting/triggers/habitual responses... and Cheezncrackers!!! Nothing shed light on these particular behaviors then, or now.
So if you have a suggestion, or opinion, or some sort of outside insight? Please... please speak up. Maybe it's just jealousy. pffft.
Anyway... balance. It was awesome, and then it wasn't... and everyday that I nanny these sweet kids, it's the same. There is laughter, and there is frustrated growling. There are battles for control, battles for authority and position, and subdued, penitent cuddles and apologies. There is intense connection tempered by animalistic separation. Oh universe, trusting you is the hardest thing...and when I think of how much I personally believe in and trust my own God, it's even more of a challenge to just throw my hands up and say, "It's all up to you, cuz I have NO power here at all!" But what else can I do that I haven't already tried?
And maybe, somehow, that is in fact the essential point that I need to embrace. Trust. Hope. Believe. Honor. Accept. That's a lot for day 16...and for a 4 year old...
August 27, 2016
August 27; Day Whatever
I don't even know.
I can't even.
I just...ugh.
So there's that... at least...
I think we stayed in pajamas until 2 or 3 pm on Thursday. I totally lost track of the day. I guess it isn't necessarily bad to do that once in awhile, but the pull to do this same thing every day is strong, and THAT is not healthy either physically or mentally. At some point in the day I noticed G being a little restless. So we got dressed and went out to pick up the new car seat we had ordered online for store pick up. We did that, and dropped H off at work, and then came home and put together the new car seat only to realize that it was NOT the right seat for us...and we planned on a return to the store for an exchange. We had also ordered internet service, with H (and FOR H) earlier in the day, so we wrote those dates on our calendar as "big events". I don't even know what we ate for dinner, probably something supremely healthy like cheesesticks and yogurt and saltines...with a side of carrots. Or something like that.
Later on we picked H up from work and then we went to bed. Just another day, just another day in paradise...
Friday was different. Late on Thursday I had connected with an online friend and made plans to meet up with her on Friday for the first time. So Friday morning we woke up and got moving early and quickly! It was a lovely sunny drive on backroads, with sightings of wild turkeys, pig farms, horses and cows, and overall incredible views. Meeting up with someone who is essentially a stranger but yet who has heard you rant and vent and express emotion all over the interwebs can have an awkward lead up to someone as introverted as me. I admit to all kinds of worry and a distinct denial of emotion as a coping method. But then...reality!
Meeting someone I only know online was such fun! Seeing someone live and in person vs Facebook pictures was amazingly seamless and without any awkwardness at all! There were hugs, and laughter, and a communal joy at seeing our boys connect and become partners in crime immediately. Introducing her spouse and my tag-a-long adult daughter eased any tension as well; we were just two women, with wild children and tag a long family members, who connected over shared global perceptions and non-judgemental hearts. It was a great experience...
It was a long day though, and after coming home, dropping H off to work, returning the carseat and buying groceries, we got home in time to pick H back up from work and then devolve into the crankiness of underfed, overtired, too-taxed energy levels, and hormonal women. The day started great, ended very poorly, but overall balanced out well for everyone. Playtime, work time, errand time, and all the detritus in between.
We were all glad to go to sleep on Friday night, with hopes and dreams for a brighter Saturday!
G had such a balance of fun, boredom, interest, irritation and frustration, excitement and stimuli, and even some sadness. And all of those emotions/feelings happened WITH me and with my guidance/boundary setting, and my supervision. I did a good job. I was NOT perfect, ohhhhh no, in fact, I was FAR from perfect, but I was THERE. That matters. That matters a LOT. A lot more than perfection I think, just being there for him was a critical development.
So I'm grateful. Grateful for balance, grateful for being able to 'be there' for my son. Grateful for new friends and new experiences. I'm grateful for being with H as well as G and grateful I had the ability to move my body, drive a significant distance, walk a significant amount of steps, and feel love and acceptance.
Friday and day 15; the end of two full weeks of being at home with my son... and all I feel is gratitude...and exhaustion!
I start my nanny gig again Saturday evening. Wish me luck!
I can't even.
I just...ugh.
So there's that... at least...
I think we stayed in pajamas until 2 or 3 pm on Thursday. I totally lost track of the day. I guess it isn't necessarily bad to do that once in awhile, but the pull to do this same thing every day is strong, and THAT is not healthy either physically or mentally. At some point in the day I noticed G being a little restless. So we got dressed and went out to pick up the new car seat we had ordered online for store pick up. We did that, and dropped H off at work, and then came home and put together the new car seat only to realize that it was NOT the right seat for us...and we planned on a return to the store for an exchange. We had also ordered internet service, with H (and FOR H) earlier in the day, so we wrote those dates on our calendar as "big events". I don't even know what we ate for dinner, probably something supremely healthy like cheesesticks and yogurt and saltines...with a side of carrots. Or something like that.
Later on we picked H up from work and then we went to bed. Just another day, just another day in paradise...
Friday was different. Late on Thursday I had connected with an online friend and made plans to meet up with her on Friday for the first time. So Friday morning we woke up and got moving early and quickly! It was a lovely sunny drive on backroads, with sightings of wild turkeys, pig farms, horses and cows, and overall incredible views. Meeting up with someone who is essentially a stranger but yet who has heard you rant and vent and express emotion all over the interwebs can have an awkward lead up to someone as introverted as me. I admit to all kinds of worry and a distinct denial of emotion as a coping method. But then...reality!
Meeting someone I only know online was such fun! Seeing someone live and in person vs Facebook pictures was amazingly seamless and without any awkwardness at all! There were hugs, and laughter, and a communal joy at seeing our boys connect and become partners in crime immediately. Introducing her spouse and my tag-a-long adult daughter eased any tension as well; we were just two women, with wild children and tag a long family members, who connected over shared global perceptions and non-judgemental hearts. It was a great experience...
It was a long day though, and after coming home, dropping H off to work, returning the carseat and buying groceries, we got home in time to pick H back up from work and then devolve into the crankiness of underfed, overtired, too-taxed energy levels, and hormonal women. The day started great, ended very poorly, but overall balanced out well for everyone. Playtime, work time, errand time, and all the detritus in between.
We were all glad to go to sleep on Friday night, with hopes and dreams for a brighter Saturday!
G had such a balance of fun, boredom, interest, irritation and frustration, excitement and stimuli, and even some sadness. And all of those emotions/feelings happened WITH me and with my guidance/boundary setting, and my supervision. I did a good job. I was NOT perfect, ohhhhh no, in fact, I was FAR from perfect, but I was THERE. That matters. That matters a LOT. A lot more than perfection I think, just being there for him was a critical development.
So I'm grateful. Grateful for balance, grateful for being able to 'be there' for my son. Grateful for new friends and new experiences. I'm grateful for being with H as well as G and grateful I had the ability to move my body, drive a significant distance, walk a significant amount of steps, and feel love and acceptance.
Friday and day 15; the end of two full weeks of being at home with my son... and all I feel is gratitude...and exhaustion!
I start my nanny gig again Saturday evening. Wish me luck!
August 24, 2016
Wednesday 8/24; Day 13
I don't really want to talk about Tuesday. It was not a good day. G really broke down under the pressure of having the other kids around and there was a travel issue that resulted in us keeping the kids for another full day instead of just a few hours. G full on was wetting his pants and even pee-ing all over the floor and wall in the bathroom...twice. The last time he did that was over a year ago when he had just started the daycare where he was mistreated, and after I had gone away for a week to see my brother and G had to stay with his dad for the first time ever. He just could NOT cope. Not then, and not now. It was a very long day. The 5 yr old pee'd in G's car-seat late Monday night after our Chinese food dinner. I don't mean he wet his pants a little cuz he couldn't hold it, that seat was soaked through and half way up the back. The kid flooded it! I took it in stride in the moment, needing to buy another car seat soon anyway, but from late Monday night thru Tuesday, there was just so much pee.. I might have cried a little.
Today, on the other hand, was such a good day. The universe graced us with something to treasure after that hard stretch. I am so grateful.
I had an interview at my old job for a per-diem nights position which would be perfect. G would sleep while I was gone, either at his dads or at home with big sister H, and about 6 shifts a month would keep me afloat financially. It was in a department that is closely tied to the one I just left so I already know about 1/2 of the staff and as I was touring the unit with the manager, I got to exchange 'hello's' and 'good to see you's' with several doctors/nurses/admins. It was fun. Then I spent another hour visiting my friends from when I worked there. I miss those friends so much. Their support for my decision to leave and take care of G was really heart warming and helped me feel really good about my choice.
When I got home, G was still chillin' in his pj's and watching tv with H. I had left strict instructions that he could just do what he wanted, no need for getting dressed or limiting tv and H took me at my word. She hadn't gotten dressed either! G and I had some lunch together and then we took a nap together. I was a little worried about him, his face looked kind of drawn and pale and his eyes looked heavy. He was either getting sick, or was still stressed out from the past few days. He giggled and talked and snuggled and kissed his way thru the first 10 minutes of laying down with me and then he passed out and snored for almost 2 hours. I slept too - as I said back on day 9 - social interactions can drain me and a nap is usually in order afterwards.
When we woke up, I could see that G looked so much better. He just needed the nap and the snuggles. I figured some fun time was in order so we decided to have an adventure. We got dressed in play clothes and decided on a "hike". Some of you might see small kids hiking actual mountain trails but for me and G, a walk on the nice flat paved rail trail is more our speed, especially when we planned for an ice cream afterward! We drove to the local rail trail head and G carried his 'stuffy bear' and the water, and a couple of important toys in his bat man string bag because...well, you never know when you might need your stuffy bear or your blue marble or your transformer guy.
Walking hand in hand with my sweet sweet boy was such a healing activity for us. He chatted and chatted and chatted and I let his voice wash over me in waves. His little hand in mine was like a weight that grounded me to reality, and purpose, and intention. The solid crunch - crunch - crunch of our feet on the gravel road was a backdrop to some other music being made by our conversation. It was awesome. We collected some acorns and decided they looked like little heads wearing caps. Later on we drew faces on them and made a family. We found a large strip of white beech bark that was cool and we added that to our collection. We saw little hidey-holes at the bases of some trees where chipmunks (or snakes or alligators or dinosaurs maybe!) lived, and listened to the different sounds of crickets and cicadas and birds all around us.
Underlying all of this beautiful time though, was the increasing fear prickling at my senses. A few weeks ago a woman was murdered in broad daylight, on a sunny afternoon, a few miles from me, and all in about a 3 hour timespan of when she went missing to when she was found. It was a horrible horrible crime and I've been sort of irrationally fearful ever since. As soon as G and I started walking I started thinking about it. Started thinking about this woman, abducted in broad daylight on a populated road where she'd been jogging, and how alone I was, there with G. Also, I had inadvertantly chosen a side trail, a dirt bike trail, and not the paved and populated walking trail so it was deserted, which I didn't know until much later. While I felt a little creeped out, I was ok until a bicyclist came by. I made eye contact with the guy, and had my 'serious' face on, and kept my eyes on him the entire time but G was all smiles. "Hi guy! Hiiii!" and waving. Biker guy smiles and replies. All I can think is: he's not sweating, shouldn't he be sweating?why isn't he sweating?what if he's not really a biker? But he kept going up the hill and all I could do is start praying. I prayed for protection, but also for peace of mind. I do not want my happy friendly boy to start being fearful of strangers. I want him to be cautious, but I want to keep that spirit of open friendliness in him. Its not my nature really, I am naturally fearful and cautious, so I adore and value his enjoyment of others. I like that in his character. But as a single woman alone on a deserted trail, I was scared. As G and I walked, my inner alarms were going off like crazy but I still felt really responsible for creating a sense of peace for G. It was exhausting to do that much battle internally. I wonder if that is a feeling he used to have everyday at daycare (or even during our time with the nanny kids): the struggle of knowing how to behave, and the fear of what could happen if he didn't behave, combined with not always knowing how OTHER kids were going to behave and therefore change the circumstances, and how little control he had over it. It take a tremendous amount of energy to carry that. As we reached the start of the trail, I saw the actual paved trail off to the left and had a moment of "duh!". G wanted to explore that one too, so off we went. I might be scared, but I'm also brave. I think the concept I adhere to is that being brave is being scared but doing something anyway. I also like to think that everytime I'm brave, I'm setting an example for G.
When we finally made it back to the car. I asked G what was the best part of our walk and he said two things: walking along the 'clifft' (yep, cliffT!) and seeing the bike riders. He particularly liked the "three wheeled bike" we saw, a recumbent bike being ridden by an older man who did NOT look like he enjoyed it.
An ice cream was our next stop and sitting outside in the sunshine while G became progressively covered in chocolate ice cream was probably my favorite part of the day. Being safe, being happy, being together, sharing something so simple and just watching my son greet every person that walked by us on their way to get their own ice cream was such a treasure to my heart. Thank you universe, and God, and angels, for keeping us safe.
My boy went to sleep tonight after dinner and a long warm tubby, and said, "this was my bestest day in forever!". Mine too pal, mine too.
Today, on the other hand, was such a good day. The universe graced us with something to treasure after that hard stretch. I am so grateful.
I had an interview at my old job for a per-diem nights position which would be perfect. G would sleep while I was gone, either at his dads or at home with big sister H, and about 6 shifts a month would keep me afloat financially. It was in a department that is closely tied to the one I just left so I already know about 1/2 of the staff and as I was touring the unit with the manager, I got to exchange 'hello's' and 'good to see you's' with several doctors/nurses/admins. It was fun. Then I spent another hour visiting my friends from when I worked there. I miss those friends so much. Their support for my decision to leave and take care of G was really heart warming and helped me feel really good about my choice.
When I got home, G was still chillin' in his pj's and watching tv with H. I had left strict instructions that he could just do what he wanted, no need for getting dressed or limiting tv and H took me at my word. She hadn't gotten dressed either! G and I had some lunch together and then we took a nap together. I was a little worried about him, his face looked kind of drawn and pale and his eyes looked heavy. He was either getting sick, or was still stressed out from the past few days. He giggled and talked and snuggled and kissed his way thru the first 10 minutes of laying down with me and then he passed out and snored for almost 2 hours. I slept too - as I said back on day 9 - social interactions can drain me and a nap is usually in order afterwards.
When we woke up, I could see that G looked so much better. He just needed the nap and the snuggles. I figured some fun time was in order so we decided to have an adventure. We got dressed in play clothes and decided on a "hike". Some of you might see small kids hiking actual mountain trails but for me and G, a walk on the nice flat paved rail trail is more our speed, especially when we planned for an ice cream afterward! We drove to the local rail trail head and G carried his 'stuffy bear' and the water, and a couple of important toys in his bat man string bag because...well, you never know when you might need your stuffy bear or your blue marble or your transformer guy.
Walking hand in hand with my sweet sweet boy was such a healing activity for us. He chatted and chatted and chatted and I let his voice wash over me in waves. His little hand in mine was like a weight that grounded me to reality, and purpose, and intention. The solid crunch - crunch - crunch of our feet on the gravel road was a backdrop to some other music being made by our conversation. It was awesome. We collected some acorns and decided they looked like little heads wearing caps. Later on we drew faces on them and made a family. We found a large strip of white beech bark that was cool and we added that to our collection. We saw little hidey-holes at the bases of some trees where chipmunks (or snakes or alligators or dinosaurs maybe!) lived, and listened to the different sounds of crickets and cicadas and birds all around us.
Underlying all of this beautiful time though, was the increasing fear prickling at my senses. A few weeks ago a woman was murdered in broad daylight, on a sunny afternoon, a few miles from me, and all in about a 3 hour timespan of when she went missing to when she was found. It was a horrible horrible crime and I've been sort of irrationally fearful ever since. As soon as G and I started walking I started thinking about it. Started thinking about this woman, abducted in broad daylight on a populated road where she'd been jogging, and how alone I was, there with G. Also, I had inadvertantly chosen a side trail, a dirt bike trail, and not the paved and populated walking trail so it was deserted, which I didn't know until much later. While I felt a little creeped out, I was ok until a bicyclist came by. I made eye contact with the guy, and had my 'serious' face on, and kept my eyes on him the entire time but G was all smiles. "Hi guy! Hiiii!" and waving. Biker guy smiles and replies. All I can think is: he's not sweating, shouldn't he be sweating?why isn't he sweating?what if he's not really a biker? But he kept going up the hill and all I could do is start praying. I prayed for protection, but also for peace of mind. I do not want my happy friendly boy to start being fearful of strangers. I want him to be cautious, but I want to keep that spirit of open friendliness in him. Its not my nature really, I am naturally fearful and cautious, so I adore and value his enjoyment of others. I like that in his character. But as a single woman alone on a deserted trail, I was scared. As G and I walked, my inner alarms were going off like crazy but I still felt really responsible for creating a sense of peace for G. It was exhausting to do that much battle internally. I wonder if that is a feeling he used to have everyday at daycare (or even during our time with the nanny kids): the struggle of knowing how to behave, and the fear of what could happen if he didn't behave, combined with not always knowing how OTHER kids were going to behave and therefore change the circumstances, and how little control he had over it. It take a tremendous amount of energy to carry that. As we reached the start of the trail, I saw the actual paved trail off to the left and had a moment of "duh!". G wanted to explore that one too, so off we went. I might be scared, but I'm also brave. I think the concept I adhere to is that being brave is being scared but doing something anyway. I also like to think that everytime I'm brave, I'm setting an example for G.
When we finally made it back to the car. I asked G what was the best part of our walk and he said two things: walking along the 'clifft' (yep, cliffT!) and seeing the bike riders. He particularly liked the "three wheeled bike" we saw, a recumbent bike being ridden by an older man who did NOT look like he enjoyed it.
An ice cream was our next stop and sitting outside in the sunshine while G became progressively covered in chocolate ice cream was probably my favorite part of the day. Being safe, being happy, being together, sharing something so simple and just watching my son greet every person that walked by us on their way to get their own ice cream was such a treasure to my heart. Thank you universe, and God, and angels, for keeping us safe.
My boy went to sleep tonight after dinner and a long warm tubby, and said, "this was my bestest day in forever!". Mine too pal, mine too.
August 22, 2016
Monday August 22; Day 11
Day 11 of my new journey as a SAHM. The start of our 3rd week together. Two weeks down, and one more started. Time is such an odd, fluid, constantly flowing entity. I can't quite catch up to it, can't quite grasp it and hold on to it, can't even keep up with it. It just keeps going and I'm there in the murky, unsettled ripples of where it's already been and what it's left behind... and the whole time I am chasing after an endlessly energetic boy who is being chased by time, not being carried on the current of it.
The weekend that passed was not one of sweet peace and togetherness for my son and I. I took a one-time nanny job 24/7 for 3 days for a 10 yr old and a 5 yr old. I didn't actually think it through before hand, thinking only of the income that it would provide and that it was just taking care of children: something I previously felt pretty secure at doing. It proved, however, to be an intense time for G. He had to share me, share his house, his toys, his sister, his environment, his dishes...and it did not go smoothly. I guess, in hindsight, for a kid already unsure of whether his momma was worthy of trust, whether he could count on consistency and connection and unconditional love, that asking him to share his momma and his space was just a little too much to ask.
I spent the weekend refereeing constant bickering between G and the other little guy who was 5. the 10 yr old was a remarkable, gentle, endlessly patient referee but I didn't want her to have to be the grown up so I kept intervening, time and time again, between G and her little brother. We started off at 5 am on Sunday and by late Sunday night I was ready to have a specific plan for our next day. We decided to do a beach trip and I got the moms permission to do so before finalizing anything. So today, day 11, we planned, packed and squeezed, and made out way to the beach almost 2 hours away.
There was whining. There was complaining, There was fighting/bickering. I suppose all that is normal though. At the beach there was simply more of the same. It was too windy, too sandy, too wet, too sunny, too hot/cold/humid...but it was NOT crowded and so THAT was awesome! We staked out our place, set up our beach canopy/tent, and unloaded the beach toys. Three kids played and played and played and one momma watched and was silent and laid out the fruit and peanut butter sandwiches and poured the water and everyone was tired by the end of day.
There was chinese food after the beach - and it was a successful and fun day for all, and it made the time pass beautifully and yet at the end of the day, G and I were NOT closer to feeling happier, safer, and better. Let this be a lesson to me... and tho I've already committed to another stretch of time with these kids, I am more aware of how I need to plan it out for the best interest of G. He is my priority and while I will always be compassionate and tender to the children whose parent is away and who may have tender hearts, G is my focus and I need to remember that.
The weekend that passed was not one of sweet peace and togetherness for my son and I. I took a one-time nanny job 24/7 for 3 days for a 10 yr old and a 5 yr old. I didn't actually think it through before hand, thinking only of the income that it would provide and that it was just taking care of children: something I previously felt pretty secure at doing. It proved, however, to be an intense time for G. He had to share me, share his house, his toys, his sister, his environment, his dishes...and it did not go smoothly. I guess, in hindsight, for a kid already unsure of whether his momma was worthy of trust, whether he could count on consistency and connection and unconditional love, that asking him to share his momma and his space was just a little too much to ask.
I spent the weekend refereeing constant bickering between G and the other little guy who was 5. the 10 yr old was a remarkable, gentle, endlessly patient referee but I didn't want her to have to be the grown up so I kept intervening, time and time again, between G and her little brother. We started off at 5 am on Sunday and by late Sunday night I was ready to have a specific plan for our next day. We decided to do a beach trip and I got the moms permission to do so before finalizing anything. So today, day 11, we planned, packed and squeezed, and made out way to the beach almost 2 hours away.
There was whining. There was complaining, There was fighting/bickering. I suppose all that is normal though. At the beach there was simply more of the same. It was too windy, too sandy, too wet, too sunny, too hot/cold/humid...but it was NOT crowded and so THAT was awesome! We staked out our place, set up our beach canopy/tent, and unloaded the beach toys. Three kids played and played and played and one momma watched and was silent and laid out the fruit and peanut butter sandwiches and poured the water and everyone was tired by the end of day.
There was chinese food after the beach - and it was a successful and fun day for all, and it made the time pass beautifully and yet at the end of the day, G and I were NOT closer to feeling happier, safer, and better. Let this be a lesson to me... and tho I've already committed to another stretch of time with these kids, I am more aware of how I need to plan it out for the best interest of G. He is my priority and while I will always be compassionate and tender to the children whose parent is away and who may have tender hearts, G is my focus and I need to remember that.
August 19, 2016
Friday August 19; Day 10
Things that are getting better by me staying home:
- G no longer wets his pants (something he hadn't done at all until suddenly he started having "accidents" in early summer and only at daycare)
- G is cuddling more, actively reaching out to me for hugs, to hold my hand, to wrap an arm around my leg and lean into me when we are standing somewhere... (these are things he did before he turned 2 and went to daycare full time but he hasn't done much of since then).
- While I don't yet have a full grasp of his natural sleep/eat cycles, I know I will figure it out. I am letting him drive that process and am learning his natural rhythms - before he went to daycare I used to know he was tired almost before he was tired. Now I understand that he goes from "OK" to "completely unglued" at warp speed, but I still believe that we can work out the key signals and get back into a groove so we can prevent or at least prepare for the majority of his melt downs.
- G and I are having FUN together on a regular basis - something that was really missing in our regular day to day lives. Fun was something I forced us to have on the weekends in between chores and errands and commitments. (you WILL have fun and you WILL like it, dammit!) Now it's spontaneous, unplanned, and taking each moment as it comes, much like the way that a Mindful Awareness class taught me to pay attention to. Perhaps I can teach him this concept as we experience this time together?
- G still likes to argue with every. single. thing. I. say. This may be a "4" thing, or it may be part of the distrust that had built up (you know, cuz I'm the one that put him in a place where grown ups hurt him and I'm the one that told him HE needed to do better...I'm the one that didn't protect him) but it's pretty much on-going. There are moments when it's better, and moments when I am so very DONE with him arguing that the sky is NOT blue or that the ground is NOT wet... note to self: you cannot win an argument with a four year old. Not without physical force anyway, and I'm just not "that" person. Side Note: I'm getting really good at losing arguments.
- G still likes to test every. single. boundary. This is definitely a "4" thing. I'm pretty sure, at my age and with 3 other children under my belt, I understand that he NEEDS to test boundaries so he feels safe and secure but Mary Mother Of God!!! I'm tired... I'm so so tired of enforcing every boundary, every time, all day, every day. But that is what I do because that is my responsibility, and mine alone. And if anyone is going to discipline my fragile, broken hearted boy, I want it to be me.
- G still likes to call all the shots. Oh yes, this kid has control issues but not all of them can be traced to a lack of power in a crucial moment.. some of them can be traced to me. I'm sorry, world, but it's true. I have control issues and so does my four year old. We make quite the team, let me tell you!
Today I had a final trial run before taking on two extra kids for a nanny position while their single mom is out of town on a business trip. It was ok. I think G may have some issues with sharing my attention as well as some issues with sharing things in general. Over all he is still adjusting to a lot of changes over the past month, which for some kids is an easy string of seamless events but for G is like a huge staircase with steps that are a little too high, a little to narrow, and a few too many. So at the end of this day, I take yet another deep breath and maybe clench my teeth just a little bit harder one more time, and I hold my son close as I tuck him in bed and I ask God and the universe to watch over us both, again, still, so that we can get through this time intact and with love. I trust that angels are around us and that all our friends are thinking hopeful positive thoughts for us.
August 18, 2016
Thursday August 18; Day 9
The thing I notice about G, which I've noticed all along but because of circumstances (ie daycare") been unable to negotiate and accommodate is that, like me, he needs a LOT of downtime, alone time, and decompression time. Whenever I do something that taxes my energy like - grocery shopping, going to a mall, or even going on a fun day trip somewhere, I can actually need to sleep it off. Or on a daily basis, it's why I stay up very very late at night after everyone else is asleep or why I get up ridiculously early while everyone else STAYS asleep. Thats how I recharge, how I bring balance to my extreme "introvert" state. I might appear funny and outgoing and kind hearted, but inside I am just planning my escape, LOL.
I think this is how G operates; although with far less insight and self awareness. In a daycare with a structure and routine and plan, there isn't really an option for "recharge" or "decompress". His last daycare had a lovely little "quiet corner" where kids could go to sit, be alone, and chill out. But it was, after all, just a chair on a rug in the corner of a busy active room. The volume of the other kids was still the same. The motion and color and visual/auditory input was still present, and there would always be the one other kid who also needed it and the ensuing struggle of sharing that "quiet" space.
All of that in conjunction with a far less ability for self control and self comforting/soothing - it's no wonder he had a difficult time settling into a preschool/daycare setting. Then combined with a provider who used physical force and shame and anger to discipline him when he wasn't able to cope? God... it must have been a form of torture, preschool style, and I cannot now erase that thought from my heart. Much like he can't erase it from his.
Today we went to spend time with our new nanny-friends. The kids played for awhile first, and then we needed to do some boring grown up errands like, Walmart.
The other thing about G is that he doesn't progressively deteriorate in behavior - he goes from "ok, this is awesome and fun" to "I CANT HANDLE SHIT" in the blink of an eye. I've been looking at his sleep patterns, the natural time he seems tired or hungry, and noting the kinds of activity or time of day that he seems to be tired or overwhelmed and it STILL takes me by surprise when it happens. I may need to write it all down in detail to see if I can find a better pattern or create a stronger awareness - but for now, lets just say that we had a "thing" in the middle of Walmart and it was totally my fault...as was the "thing" we had after bathtime.
At Walmart we were randomly browsing items as we made our way from one side of the store to the complete opposite side to compare prices on an item: why they had one version of it in the automotive department on one side, and another version in homegoods on the opposite side I will never understand, but hey, Thanks Walmart! And F.U., also... just saying. Anyway. It was fun and goofy and then suddenly it wasn't. It went from, "wow! look at that transformer!" to "i waaaaannna gooooo hoooooome! I'm hunnnnnngry! I'm toooo tired!" at which point it devolved into me snapping, him crying, a few sharp words muttered through gritted teeth and then we made our way over to the snack aisle and picked up some crackers. A miraculous cure! Right back to happy, cooperative, accommodating, friendly, charming... and he munched crackers while I searched out 3 perfect greeting cards. Weird. It was like the Snickers commercial for "hangry". Spot on. Hm... Must investigate this concept very very carefully. How can I prevent this?
And then the same exact behavior played out later on after we were back, playing in the room with toys, before lunch. I sorted out the sharing issues with only minor stomping and fussing (G, not me!) and then after he ate there was another whole meltdown and he couldn't put on shoes, couldn't say goodbye, couldn't even accept that we'd be back tomorrow: I carried my shoeless pal to the car and buckled him in for the 12 minute drive home. He fell asleep, slept thru the transfer in to the couch, slept for another 2 hours...and woke up like the cutest, sweetest, most adorable little monkey you've ever met. My word. What is this - sleep, low blood sugar?, artificial foods sensitivities? Must think hard on this...it could be a game changer if I can figure out a key component.
When he woke up it was almost 4pm. He wanted his Kindle, and given that he'd had such limited electronic use so far, I said yes. He took that Kindle into the bedroom where it was a little dark (thank you black-out curtains!) and stayed there the rest of the evening. I had to bully him into coming out to eat dinner with his daddy who had stopped by to say hello; had to bully him into a tubby afterward, and then to bed. All of that met with resistance, very vocally, and a lot of tears. Of course, he ate everything and asked for seconds, and thirds, of the dinner he did NOT want to eat; and then he spent almost 30 minutes in that tubby that he didn't want to get into; and then he had to sleep in my bed which he had previously said he would NEVER ever EVER sleep in AGAIN! Hm.
It was a long day with this boy today. A day in which I felt defeated a lot, amused a lot, aggravated a lot, and all mixed up with some general curiousity about how to make everything tie together so it gets better, easier, and sweeter. I love playing detective sometimes at work - I want to find the answer to THIS for G...and for me. I feel like the answer or the key will help to make him more successful overall in his future. In the meantime, I can carry snacks in my purse, watch his intake of sugar and artificials (do NOT get me started about the cost of whole foods vs fake foods!) and try to be aware of his sleep times, and think about his social skills, academic skills, health and well-being, our finances, the politics and our government, the environment, the lizard... and H's success at college... and J2's success at college, and N and S navigating adulthood on their own... oh god I'm tired.
I mostly like to deal with all of this with humor. A lot of self deprecating derpiness. Making other people laugh at MY expense is kind of a thing I like to do. I'm getting really good at it, ask Tina or Molly if you want to! But days like today leave me a little battered, a little dusty and used up, a little sunken and in need of something soft.
I will say good night to this day, and I will lay in bed with G who is decked out in Minion PJ pants, a white T, and batman socks, and I will utter a thankful prayer to God for the upcoming nanny opportunities He has provided and for the sturdy, solid, snoring little boy who will lay in my arms as if he never yelled at me, "I don't LIKE you! You are MEAN! I don't want to be your FRIEND anymore!" and I will think of all the people out there who are thinking of us - and I will pray blessings and fortune for all of THEM.
Tomorrow's another day, and I am NOT afraid... so bring on the rain!
I think this is how G operates; although with far less insight and self awareness. In a daycare with a structure and routine and plan, there isn't really an option for "recharge" or "decompress". His last daycare had a lovely little "quiet corner" where kids could go to sit, be alone, and chill out. But it was, after all, just a chair on a rug in the corner of a busy active room. The volume of the other kids was still the same. The motion and color and visual/auditory input was still present, and there would always be the one other kid who also needed it and the ensuing struggle of sharing that "quiet" space.
All of that in conjunction with a far less ability for self control and self comforting/soothing - it's no wonder he had a difficult time settling into a preschool/daycare setting. Then combined with a provider who used physical force and shame and anger to discipline him when he wasn't able to cope? God... it must have been a form of torture, preschool style, and I cannot now erase that thought from my heart. Much like he can't erase it from his.
Today we went to spend time with our new nanny-friends. The kids played for awhile first, and then we needed to do some boring grown up errands like, Walmart.
The other thing about G is that he doesn't progressively deteriorate in behavior - he goes from "ok, this is awesome and fun" to "I CANT HANDLE SHIT" in the blink of an eye. I've been looking at his sleep patterns, the natural time he seems tired or hungry, and noting the kinds of activity or time of day that he seems to be tired or overwhelmed and it STILL takes me by surprise when it happens. I may need to write it all down in detail to see if I can find a better pattern or create a stronger awareness - but for now, lets just say that we had a "thing" in the middle of Walmart and it was totally my fault...as was the "thing" we had after bathtime.
At Walmart we were randomly browsing items as we made our way from one side of the store to the complete opposite side to compare prices on an item: why they had one version of it in the automotive department on one side, and another version in homegoods on the opposite side I will never understand, but hey, Thanks Walmart! And F.U., also... just saying. Anyway. It was fun and goofy and then suddenly it wasn't. It went from, "wow! look at that transformer!" to "i waaaaannna gooooo hoooooome! I'm hunnnnnngry! I'm toooo tired!" at which point it devolved into me snapping, him crying, a few sharp words muttered through gritted teeth and then we made our way over to the snack aisle and picked up some crackers. A miraculous cure! Right back to happy, cooperative, accommodating, friendly, charming... and he munched crackers while I searched out 3 perfect greeting cards. Weird. It was like the Snickers commercial for "hangry". Spot on. Hm... Must investigate this concept very very carefully. How can I prevent this?
And then the same exact behavior played out later on after we were back, playing in the room with toys, before lunch. I sorted out the sharing issues with only minor stomping and fussing (G, not me!) and then after he ate there was another whole meltdown and he couldn't put on shoes, couldn't say goodbye, couldn't even accept that we'd be back tomorrow: I carried my shoeless pal to the car and buckled him in for the 12 minute drive home. He fell asleep, slept thru the transfer in to the couch, slept for another 2 hours...and woke up like the cutest, sweetest, most adorable little monkey you've ever met. My word. What is this - sleep, low blood sugar?, artificial foods sensitivities? Must think hard on this...it could be a game changer if I can figure out a key component.
When he woke up it was almost 4pm. He wanted his Kindle, and given that he'd had such limited electronic use so far, I said yes. He took that Kindle into the bedroom where it was a little dark (thank you black-out curtains!) and stayed there the rest of the evening. I had to bully him into coming out to eat dinner with his daddy who had stopped by to say hello; had to bully him into a tubby afterward, and then to bed. All of that met with resistance, very vocally, and a lot of tears. Of course, he ate everything and asked for seconds, and thirds, of the dinner he did NOT want to eat; and then he spent almost 30 minutes in that tubby that he didn't want to get into; and then he had to sleep in my bed which he had previously said he would NEVER ever EVER sleep in AGAIN! Hm.
It was a long day with this boy today. A day in which I felt defeated a lot, amused a lot, aggravated a lot, and all mixed up with some general curiousity about how to make everything tie together so it gets better, easier, and sweeter. I love playing detective sometimes at work - I want to find the answer to THIS for G...and for me. I feel like the answer or the key will help to make him more successful overall in his future. In the meantime, I can carry snacks in my purse, watch his intake of sugar and artificials (do NOT get me started about the cost of whole foods vs fake foods!) and try to be aware of his sleep times, and think about his social skills, academic skills, health and well-being, our finances, the politics and our government, the environment, the lizard... and H's success at college... and J2's success at college, and N and S navigating adulthood on their own... oh god I'm tired.
I mostly like to deal with all of this with humor. A lot of self deprecating derpiness. Making other people laugh at MY expense is kind of a thing I like to do. I'm getting really good at it, ask Tina or Molly if you want to! But days like today leave me a little battered, a little dusty and used up, a little sunken and in need of something soft.
I will say good night to this day, and I will lay in bed with G who is decked out in Minion PJ pants, a white T, and batman socks, and I will utter a thankful prayer to God for the upcoming nanny opportunities He has provided and for the sturdy, solid, snoring little boy who will lay in my arms as if he never yelled at me, "I don't LIKE you! You are MEAN! I don't want to be your FRIEND anymore!" and I will think of all the people out there who are thinking of us - and I will pray blessings and fortune for all of THEM.
Tomorrow's another day, and I am NOT afraid... so bring on the rain!
August 17, 2016
Wednesday August 17: Day 8
I have a "one time" nanny position for another single mom who is traveling on business and isn't comfortable leaving her kids with the regular college student nanny she employs. It's two separate time periods this month and we've done our "playdate/interviews" and chatted a lot but last night she let me know her regular nanny was very sick and asked if I could cover some time this week before our already scheduled trip-time. I am not about to turn down money, obviously, so I said yes. Today G and I picked up our new short friends and we went to see a summer-only $1 movie special at 10am. What fun! We saw a great movie, had an enjoyable experience and then got to hang out and have free-play time together. It was very successful and bodes well for tomorrow, Friday, and for our first big "trip-time" which starts on Sunday.
If you get the chance to see Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs 2? Do it! What a cute movie! Please - I'm not a movie critic, I'm not into filmography or plot lines or "between the lines" meanings... I'm all about visual entertainment and soundtrack, and subtle adult humor, and plain old fun; and this movie gave it all.
This morning was busy with income producing activity, and then this afternoon was the opposite. I pleaded with my oldest son to babysit so that I could go with H to a college orientation. Scurrying through the afternoon to pack up a lunch and toys and squeeze in a brief nap before dropping off G to his big brothers hands meant almost no down time for me. The orientation went well - very well - at least from a parenting standpoint - and leaving G with his big brother went about as well I had expected which was not very well at all. And all of it was costly.
Overall, G staying with his big brother is fine. N started babysitting regularly for G when he was just 16 and when G himself wasn't even a year old. At that time, it was a really tender and safe experience for the both of them. It's different now though. N keeps him safe, follows most of my instructions, and at the end of it all I have two live, happy, smiling boys. The interim is up for debate though. N said that G punched him in the face. Now, picture if you will a 6'2" gangly goofball, musician, poet, tender soul, rambunctious man-child being punched by a 36" scrawny 32lb 4 year old... and somewhere in your momma heart, you wonder, "why?" Why does he feel like hitting? What happened that led up to it? Why did he feel that punching was an appropriate or necessary action? I asked him. I asked him in a variety of different ways with no good response and finally I said to him, "I'm sorry if you felt scared and needed to punch N to feel safer, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you to make you feel safe" and he totally folded. "Momma, I missed you and I needed you! Why did I not come with you? How come I couldn't stay with you? I did the last time! I wanted to be ONLY with you!" My heart shattered into a million pieces as I looked into his big brown eyes - a mirror of my own in fact - and tried to explain.
"I can't always be with you, buddy, sometimes I have to leave you with your brother or sister or someone else, but I will always try to leave you with someone that loves you and keeps you safe!" He wasn't buying it though. "But why? Why can't you be with me? I neeeeeeed you!"he wailed...and tears leaked down his cheeks. Those pink baby cheeks... How I was able to keep my own tears from falling, and my own voice from breaking, I will never know. Because he is right. He does need me. And because I was wrong - I haven't always left him with someone who keeps him safe... and he knows it. I am a liar in his eyes. There is so much trust to rebuild. And in the meantime, he has a powerful Right Hook so, watch out! If his momma won't (or can't) keep him safe, he's gonna go down trying to keep himself safe.
He's so fucking brave and he's my hero.
August 16, 2016
Day 7
Up early, like yesterday, and not loving it but...doing it. Todays agenda was a "lego fun day" at a library near us so once we got H off to work, we made our way there. We got there with time to spare...45 minutes of time actually. sigh. How come I can't get this stuff right? lol!
We played with 5 ginormous bins of legos that the staff put out about 20 minutes early just for us - thank you Angels! There was some negotiation and whining about sharing, and all between G and I, but I stuck to my guns about it because this is part of what I'm doing here instead of at work: I am re-teaching my son social skills that are acceptable to ME, and modeling how disagreements should be handled by adults. It wasn't too bad but I did feel uncomfortable for a minute or two, wondering if I should just give in and let him put his white lego blocks on the blue wall I was building because he whined that he waaaaaanted to, and that he wasn't evvvvvver gonna get to do it hiiiiiis way, but then the discomfort faded as he slumped away for a second and then came back with a great idea to build something of his own. I didn't even say, "I JUST told you that!" so I gave myself a sticker. Not really, but I totally could have earned one for good behavior.
After that we stopped by his dads house to pick up an extra carseat he was lending us and G sweetly left some freshly picked buttercups in a shot glass and wrote his name on a post it note to leave with the flowers. Then things got a little less sweet on the way home. G can get very...uh..."end of the world attitude" as his dad calls it. It started with, "we are never gonna get home! it's taking too long!" and devolved into, "I'm never gonna get in a car again and no one is ever gonna get to do anything at all ever again in my whole family!" All that was missing was a violin sound track. For some reason, it's always a 'button pusher' for me, always making me instantly on edge and irritated. It's so dramaaaatic! I did my best to breath through it and stay calm during the 20 minute drive. As we pulled into our driveway and I was telling G that he needed to come up with something positive and happy to say to offset the doom and gloom, and that we could go outside and play for awhile as soon as he did, I was gritting my teeth in exasperation. Surely this was a teachable moment if I could keep my cool. Did I mention my own aging hormones are a little loopy these days? Prone to irrational irritation and an extremely short fuse? Sigh. As I was trying to get him to say something happy, he yelled, "I'm not EVER gonna be happy again and so are you gonna not be for the REST of this whole day and I don't WANNA go outside ever again until I'm not even 4 anymore!" aaaaaaaand cue my red face, bulging eyes, and steam pouring out of my ears. I pulled G into the house, him shrieking the whole time, and me muttering, "that is IT, I have HAD it with your attitude, I am NOT going to deal with your ingratitude TODAY" and I wasn't sure if I was talking to him or to myself. I put my hot, sweaty, overtired, overstimulated, very young son to bed where he promptly fell asleep and stayed asleep for almost 2 hours. A teachable moment indeed. Perhaps I need to re-evaluate his sleep patterns?
I spent some quality time surfing FaceBook, eating ice cream, and even crying a little bit while he slept. Pretty typical for a SAHM I think. Then I did laundry. It never ends, the laundry, it never ends.
We went to pick up H from work after he woke up, and came home to eat dinner and then went back out so H could do some driving practice. G's evening was completed with a long tubby, being tucked into bed into clean sheets, and being read to by his big sister. I didn't accomplish any major milestones on this day, didn't complete a curriculum plan or secure our finances, didn't break thru any emotional or trust barriers with G, but I was with him, all day, and I kept him safe from strangers, all day...and sometimes that is enough when you consider the big picture. Sometimes "enough" is all that a mom can do. And sometimes, when you pull back and look long at the big picture, "enough" is almost a miracle.
We played with 5 ginormous bins of legos that the staff put out about 20 minutes early just for us - thank you Angels! There was some negotiation and whining about sharing, and all between G and I, but I stuck to my guns about it because this is part of what I'm doing here instead of at work: I am re-teaching my son social skills that are acceptable to ME, and modeling how disagreements should be handled by adults. It wasn't too bad but I did feel uncomfortable for a minute or two, wondering if I should just give in and let him put his white lego blocks on the blue wall I was building because he whined that he waaaaaanted to, and that he wasn't evvvvvver gonna get to do it hiiiiiis way, but then the discomfort faded as he slumped away for a second and then came back with a great idea to build something of his own. I didn't even say, "I JUST told you that!" so I gave myself a sticker. Not really, but I totally could have earned one for good behavior.
After that we stopped by his dads house to pick up an extra carseat he was lending us and G sweetly left some freshly picked buttercups in a shot glass and wrote his name on a post it note to leave with the flowers. Then things got a little less sweet on the way home. G can get very...uh..."end of the world attitude" as his dad calls it. It started with, "we are never gonna get home! it's taking too long!" and devolved into, "I'm never gonna get in a car again and no one is ever gonna get to do anything at all ever again in my whole family!" All that was missing was a violin sound track. For some reason, it's always a 'button pusher' for me, always making me instantly on edge and irritated. It's so dramaaaatic! I did my best to breath through it and stay calm during the 20 minute drive. As we pulled into our driveway and I was telling G that he needed to come up with something positive and happy to say to offset the doom and gloom, and that we could go outside and play for awhile as soon as he did, I was gritting my teeth in exasperation. Surely this was a teachable moment if I could keep my cool. Did I mention my own aging hormones are a little loopy these days? Prone to irrational irritation and an extremely short fuse? Sigh. As I was trying to get him to say something happy, he yelled, "I'm not EVER gonna be happy again and so are you gonna not be for the REST of this whole day and I don't WANNA go outside ever again until I'm not even 4 anymore!" aaaaaaaand cue my red face, bulging eyes, and steam pouring out of my ears. I pulled G into the house, him shrieking the whole time, and me muttering, "that is IT, I have HAD it with your attitude, I am NOT going to deal with your ingratitude TODAY" and I wasn't sure if I was talking to him or to myself. I put my hot, sweaty, overtired, overstimulated, very young son to bed where he promptly fell asleep and stayed asleep for almost 2 hours. A teachable moment indeed. Perhaps I need to re-evaluate his sleep patterns?
I spent some quality time surfing FaceBook, eating ice cream, and even crying a little bit while he slept. Pretty typical for a SAHM I think. Then I did laundry. It never ends, the laundry, it never ends.
We went to pick up H from work after he woke up, and came home to eat dinner and then went back out so H could do some driving practice. G's evening was completed with a long tubby, being tucked into bed into clean sheets, and being read to by his big sister. I didn't accomplish any major milestones on this day, didn't complete a curriculum plan or secure our finances, didn't break thru any emotional or trust barriers with G, but I was with him, all day, and I kept him safe from strangers, all day...and sometimes that is enough when you consider the big picture. Sometimes "enough" is all that a mom can do. And sometimes, when you pull back and look long at the big picture, "enough" is almost a miracle.
August 15, 2016
Day 6
I'm not counting the weekend days, because, well, because it's my blog and I can do it however I want to. That kind of logic is apparently the best kind of logic that actually truly works with 4 year olds. It's all about power, and I'm having to learn to really throw mine around a little.
I anticipated that routine, time, and structure would be things that I struggled with as I entered the daily life of a SAHM. I didn't quite realize how MUCH I would struggle, or that G would struggle too, but those things are hitting home rapidly. In the counting of days, today is my 6th weekday in which I am not working but staying home to raise my son...but it is also the 11th day in a row that I have pretty much parented him 24/7 and we are both beginning to fray around the edges a wee bit. Its a learning process for us, and I want to be gentle with my thoughts as we navigate this new territory.
He isn't used to me being in his face 24/7 anymore than I am used to him being in my face 24/7. He isn't used to not having nine and a half hours of structured daycare/preschool routine. I'm not used to NOT rushing to get out the door in the morning and then rushing thru an evening routine so he gets to bed on time. I used to be very deliberate about the time I spent with him on the weekend because I got so very little time with him during the week and I wanted to have fun times of connection with my son at every opportunity. I still do want those fun times of connection, but now I also sometimes want a little space, as does he! So thats my goal this week: structure, routine, space, time management. Yes, yes, I do hear the universe laughing at me, you don't need to point it out.
I got up early as if I were going to work, at 6:15 - not AS early, but still way before I expected G to wake up. I had my water and my coffee, surfed the net briefly, then laid out our meals for the week and a grocery list that took into account my very slim budget. Oh wine, I am going to miss you. I made a daily list of what activities were available for us to do together for fun, a list of things that I needed to do this week, and incorporated my daughter H's work schedule because I am still a chauffeur for her, and as a single parent, I am the only one around to shoulder that responsibility too. I stretched out some muscles that have been complaining loudly to me (at my age, lots of my muscles are complaining but these particular ones have been particularly hateful towards me of late) and when G got up, I felt mostly sane. I let him play on his Kindle while I got his breakfast and then got my own shower and self care out of the way. When I told him to turn off his Kindle at 10, and that it was going to be a new rule, he didn't even argue. Hmm. Well. That was easy? Yes, yes, laughing universe, I know.
Its been too hot to play outside since last week really but we did get out for a little bit today out of necessity (for the love of everything go outside and run a little kid, ok?) and that was about as exciting as it got unless you count the trip to the grocery store. Which really, it is pretty exciting to see how far money can actually stretch! Anyway, in the coming days, I'm aiming to see if I can pull together some sort of routine and some regular educational activities we can do either daily or weekly. I'm sure it will be easier when it's cooler outside (and inside!) so I have plenty of time for planning. He's already reading a little so it's not the academics I'm worried about, just the stimulation in general. If he's bored, he's in trouble!
I am still doing last minute tasks related to getting H set up for school. She had been living with her dad for a while and during her senior year of high school a lot of details fell thru the cracks so there is some last minute scrambling to get her registered for her classes at the local community college and sort out her schedule at work too. H requires a lot of direction and guidance so it can be a little time consuming, and it is also another example of adjusting my expectations about how something should play out. A lot of adjusting of my expectations.
I imagine, in my wild dreams, all of this would be easier if this were a two parent household. (what is with all the laughing in the universe today?) Or if there was more income. Or perhaps ANY kind of income, ha ha. Or maybe if we weren't all three of us crammed into a one bedroom apartment. Then everything would just...flow. Right? It's moments like this that I sometimes feel the pull of getting back together with G's dad just for the logistics of income, space, and having another adult available to share some of the burdens...but actually I did that once before and though those things did play out in some ways, it also played out in ways that still stick with me and bruise up my heart too much. So. We have what we have, we live where we live, and at the end of the day, everyone is tucked in safely to our nest and all seems right with the world. You can't really buy that feeling.
I have some income prospects on the horizon, I have a meal plan and a budget, I have some amazing friends near by and a crazy supportive online community that feels as real as my 17 year long friendship with my Karen who lives 2 miles away...and I am trusting the universe to help me out, even as it laughs at me. A sense of humor is important after all! It already is proving itself in caring for us - I mean, the lizard is still alive, so there's that!
Onward to day 7 and a wild plan for the library and Lego Club!
I anticipated that routine, time, and structure would be things that I struggled with as I entered the daily life of a SAHM. I didn't quite realize how MUCH I would struggle, or that G would struggle too, but those things are hitting home rapidly. In the counting of days, today is my 6th weekday in which I am not working but staying home to raise my son...but it is also the 11th day in a row that I have pretty much parented him 24/7 and we are both beginning to fray around the edges a wee bit. Its a learning process for us, and I want to be gentle with my thoughts as we navigate this new territory.
He isn't used to me being in his face 24/7 anymore than I am used to him being in my face 24/7. He isn't used to not having nine and a half hours of structured daycare/preschool routine. I'm not used to NOT rushing to get out the door in the morning and then rushing thru an evening routine so he gets to bed on time. I used to be very deliberate about the time I spent with him on the weekend because I got so very little time with him during the week and I wanted to have fun times of connection with my son at every opportunity. I still do want those fun times of connection, but now I also sometimes want a little space, as does he! So thats my goal this week: structure, routine, space, time management. Yes, yes, I do hear the universe laughing at me, you don't need to point it out.
I got up early as if I were going to work, at 6:15 - not AS early, but still way before I expected G to wake up. I had my water and my coffee, surfed the net briefly, then laid out our meals for the week and a grocery list that took into account my very slim budget. Oh wine, I am going to miss you. I made a daily list of what activities were available for us to do together for fun, a list of things that I needed to do this week, and incorporated my daughter H's work schedule because I am still a chauffeur for her, and as a single parent, I am the only one around to shoulder that responsibility too. I stretched out some muscles that have been complaining loudly to me (at my age, lots of my muscles are complaining but these particular ones have been particularly hateful towards me of late) and when G got up, I felt mostly sane. I let him play on his Kindle while I got his breakfast and then got my own shower and self care out of the way. When I told him to turn off his Kindle at 10, and that it was going to be a new rule, he didn't even argue. Hmm. Well. That was easy? Yes, yes, laughing universe, I know.
Its been too hot to play outside since last week really but we did get out for a little bit today out of necessity (for the love of everything go outside and run a little kid, ok?) and that was about as exciting as it got unless you count the trip to the grocery store. Which really, it is pretty exciting to see how far money can actually stretch! Anyway, in the coming days, I'm aiming to see if I can pull together some sort of routine and some regular educational activities we can do either daily or weekly. I'm sure it will be easier when it's cooler outside (and inside!) so I have plenty of time for planning. He's already reading a little so it's not the academics I'm worried about, just the stimulation in general. If he's bored, he's in trouble!
I am still doing last minute tasks related to getting H set up for school. She had been living with her dad for a while and during her senior year of high school a lot of details fell thru the cracks so there is some last minute scrambling to get her registered for her classes at the local community college and sort out her schedule at work too. H requires a lot of direction and guidance so it can be a little time consuming, and it is also another example of adjusting my expectations about how something should play out. A lot of adjusting of my expectations.
I imagine, in my wild dreams, all of this would be easier if this were a two parent household. (what is with all the laughing in the universe today?) Or if there was more income. Or perhaps ANY kind of income, ha ha. Or maybe if we weren't all three of us crammed into a one bedroom apartment. Then everything would just...flow. Right? It's moments like this that I sometimes feel the pull of getting back together with G's dad just for the logistics of income, space, and having another adult available to share some of the burdens...but actually I did that once before and though those things did play out in some ways, it also played out in ways that still stick with me and bruise up my heart too much. So. We have what we have, we live where we live, and at the end of the day, everyone is tucked in safely to our nest and all seems right with the world. You can't really buy that feeling.
I have some income prospects on the horizon, I have a meal plan and a budget, I have some amazing friends near by and a crazy supportive online community that feels as real as my 17 year long friendship with my Karen who lives 2 miles away...and I am trusting the universe to help me out, even as it laughs at me. A sense of humor is important after all! It already is proving itself in caring for us - I mean, the lizard is still alive, so there's that!
Onward to day 7 and a wild plan for the library and Lego Club!
August 12, 2016
Day Five
It's almost 9pm and G is asleep. His daddy carried him into the house and I pulled off his flip-flops before he was nestled down into his bed. Now the TV is on low and I sit and contemplate all that this day has been, and all that it hasn't, and all that it could have been.
If I were working, as I was just a week ago, I would have been stressed trying to clear out my "task bucket" before the weekend, put out any fires that erupted as the day went on (and many, many fires always erupt on a Friday in a medical clinic!). I would have been frantically trying to type letters and do a mail merge and get them all in the outgoing box before 2pm, I would have been scheduling last minute emergency outpatient testing (mammograms, ultrasounds, CT scans...) and getting insurance authorizations for such procedures before companies close down. I would have been stressed about leaving on time so I could get to daycare on time - I would have been thinking about traffic and the time difference between myself and my oldest in a time zone 3 hours away and thinking about my brother in a time zone 6 hours away. I would have been thinking about how freaking hot it was and what my apartment would feel like when I finally got home and how much I would NOT feel like cooking when it was 87 and humid INSIDE...I would have been thinking about all the things I needed to do over the weekend like ironing, grocery shopping, bill paying, all mixed up with whether I was going to get an "incident report" from daycare and if my sweet gentle boy was going to watch me receive the news of all his "bad behaviors"...
But I didn't work today. Or at all this week even. So today felt less like a Friday, and more like a...um...I don't know, a Wednesday? I didn't even realize it was FRIDAY. In fact, I had an appointment at 10:30 that I kind of mistakenly showed up for at 10. At least I wasn't late? Today was like any other day: we got up, we ate food, we played... and then I thought I was late and I scrambled like hell to get somewhere early. Yeah... that's about right! How did I ever do this before for 12 years?
We did another "play date/interview" today and I had the foresight to leave G at home with H for the first part so I could really focus on the mom and the kids and really connect with them. That was, in hindsight, a really good choice. Last time it hadn't gone so well when I had G with me. This time was actually delightful and I had to really remind myself that kids are always nicer for strangers. Then I brought those delightful children back to my place to play with G and reality set in. G hasn't had a lot of experience with having friends over to play. So he was REALLY excited...and really hyped up, and he was tired and hot and hungry. Which, as any parent knows, is pretty much a recipe for "shit show". We planned on using the sprinkler so they were all in their suits and sun-screened up and ready to go, we had the spiderman sprinkler set up and spinning, and then the whining commenced. "NO! Thats NOT how to do it! No! Don't hold it down like that! NOOOO don't spray me! NOOOOO don't do THAT!" Ugh. It was MY kid mostly, although I did hear the big sister of the other two reprimand her little brother once or twice. I felt like a referee in a sport I didn't understand. As if someone had pulled me aside and said, "ok, so there are three kids of various ages and sizes and you get to determine who is right and who is wrong in ALL of EVERYTHING ok? so, GO!" I performed about as well as the contestants in that event. Taking them home felt a little like relief...
Then we went to G's dad house - a house we used to live in; a house with multiple a/c units, multiple rooms, a place with room to prep and cook...and I made dinner for 3 while G played and I got bogged down in memories...but thats beside the point. Several times during the day, G had whined about being bored, about not having any fun, about not EVER getting to do ANYTHING: after I let him choose when to take off his pullup, when to get dressed and what to wear, what to play with his friends, which side of the car to put his car seat on, and what food to bring over to his dad's. I was a little exasperated! I might have been a little "snappish". But only maybe. Once we were there, he was such a quiet happy little introvert; just like his momma. I cooked, he played, and when his daddy arrived, we ate together quietly and peacefully. And then I left and he stayed behind to play with his daddy.
So ends day Five. A glass of wine, a sleeping child, a bowl full of chex mix... and an episode of Criminal Minds - all is well in the world! Until tomorrow...because Saturday as a SAHM is pretty much just like a...Wednesday....
If I were working, as I was just a week ago, I would have been stressed trying to clear out my "task bucket" before the weekend, put out any fires that erupted as the day went on (and many, many fires always erupt on a Friday in a medical clinic!). I would have been frantically trying to type letters and do a mail merge and get them all in the outgoing box before 2pm, I would have been scheduling last minute emergency outpatient testing (mammograms, ultrasounds, CT scans...) and getting insurance authorizations for such procedures before companies close down. I would have been stressed about leaving on time so I could get to daycare on time - I would have been thinking about traffic and the time difference between myself and my oldest in a time zone 3 hours away and thinking about my brother in a time zone 6 hours away. I would have been thinking about how freaking hot it was and what my apartment would feel like when I finally got home and how much I would NOT feel like cooking when it was 87 and humid INSIDE...I would have been thinking about all the things I needed to do over the weekend like ironing, grocery shopping, bill paying, all mixed up with whether I was going to get an "incident report" from daycare and if my sweet gentle boy was going to watch me receive the news of all his "bad behaviors"...
But I didn't work today. Or at all this week even. So today felt less like a Friday, and more like a...um...I don't know, a Wednesday? I didn't even realize it was FRIDAY. In fact, I had an appointment at 10:30 that I kind of mistakenly showed up for at 10. At least I wasn't late? Today was like any other day: we got up, we ate food, we played... and then I thought I was late and I scrambled like hell to get somewhere early. Yeah... that's about right! How did I ever do this before for 12 years?
We did another "play date/interview" today and I had the foresight to leave G at home with H for the first part so I could really focus on the mom and the kids and really connect with them. That was, in hindsight, a really good choice. Last time it hadn't gone so well when I had G with me. This time was actually delightful and I had to really remind myself that kids are always nicer for strangers. Then I brought those delightful children back to my place to play with G and reality set in. G hasn't had a lot of experience with having friends over to play. So he was REALLY excited...and really hyped up, and he was tired and hot and hungry. Which, as any parent knows, is pretty much a recipe for "shit show". We planned on using the sprinkler so they were all in their suits and sun-screened up and ready to go, we had the spiderman sprinkler set up and spinning, and then the whining commenced. "NO! Thats NOT how to do it! No! Don't hold it down like that! NOOOO don't spray me! NOOOOO don't do THAT!" Ugh. It was MY kid mostly, although I did hear the big sister of the other two reprimand her little brother once or twice. I felt like a referee in a sport I didn't understand. As if someone had pulled me aside and said, "ok, so there are three kids of various ages and sizes and you get to determine who is right and who is wrong in ALL of EVERYTHING ok? so, GO!" I performed about as well as the contestants in that event. Taking them home felt a little like relief...
Then we went to G's dad house - a house we used to live in; a house with multiple a/c units, multiple rooms, a place with room to prep and cook...and I made dinner for 3 while G played and I got bogged down in memories...but thats beside the point. Several times during the day, G had whined about being bored, about not having any fun, about not EVER getting to do ANYTHING: after I let him choose when to take off his pullup, when to get dressed and what to wear, what to play with his friends, which side of the car to put his car seat on, and what food to bring over to his dad's. I was a little exasperated! I might have been a little "snappish". But only maybe. Once we were there, he was such a quiet happy little introvert; just like his momma. I cooked, he played, and when his daddy arrived, we ate together quietly and peacefully. And then I left and he stayed behind to play with his daddy.
So ends day Five. A glass of wine, a sleeping child, a bowl full of chex mix... and an episode of Criminal Minds - all is well in the world! Until tomorrow...because Saturday as a SAHM is pretty much just like a...Wednesday....
August 11, 2016
Day Four(ish) - and the story of why...
Tuesday was day two. At some point it ended, as all days eventually do. We didn't get to accomplish any of the important things on our list, but we acquired a lizard. Accidentally. Sort of. Its a long story involving Amazon Prime, UPS, an electronic delivery for H and a rush to leave the house for a last minute call to work, and G screaming, "A Lizard! A Lizard!" It culminated in a trip to Petco. Because...well...because G named it Liz and then what else could I do but buy it a cage and some crickets? And then we went to bed. When we woke up, it was Wednesday, Liz was still alive and in captivity, and everything seemed right with the world. And that is how it goes I think, this thing called "life".
Wednesday was day three. Day three was a day it was too wet to play, so we stayed in the house all the humid, hot, day (thank you Dr. Suess) No, not really, not ALL day...but kind of. It rained hard, which we desperately needed, and so we played with playdough and made messes, and played in the big boxes that Amazon and UPS had delivered the previous day (no more lizards thank goodness!) and then finally we clambered into the car so H could practice driving.
Practice is a funny word to use for driving. I mean, its not like you can make a mistake, like, say, get in a wreck, and then just "undo" it and start over. No, no, driving doesn't work that way. Just saying. But we did it. I mean, we practiced, not got in a wreck...so we practiced not getting in a wreck? H drove and I breathed and it was fine. We shopped at a far away Trader Joes (because momma needed a little "Two Buck Chuck" after that drive) and then dropped G off to visit with his daddy, and then H drove home again, in a torrential downpour complete with blinding sun glare and rush hour traffic. We were very glad to get home. Both of us equally. When G came back later on, we were both deep in our own electronic devices just decompressing from the "practice". And then we went to bed. When we woke up it was Thursday, Liz was still alive and captive, and everything seemed right with the world. I'm sensing a pattern here.
Today is Thursday. It is (was?) DAY FOUR. My fourth day of being a stay at home mom. I've been here before, but just not with THIS kid. It's not unfamiliar to me, but it's entirely different all at the same time. This is the story of why...
I have 3 other kids, the youngest of whom is 18 and I was at home with her all her entire elementary school years before I started working, at home with her and her two older siblings. I was home, married, driving a minivan and going to play dates and PTA meetings, and running kids to soccer and karate and tee-ball. Until. Until I wasn't.
When G came along, I was a single mom, working hard at two jobs for minimum wage. I utilized a food bank. I had food stamps and WIC. I got assistance for heat and utilities. He was 16 months old when I finally got a good, stable, well paying job. I was so grateful for that job! I was proud of my work, of my employer, of how well I was doing, proud of paying my own way and not using assistance of any kind. When G was just turning 3 I moved him from the small home daycare he was at because I thought he was bored... I found a great preschool with a science and nature based curriculum with outdoor trails and a really good balance of social skills and academics. The director had been running it for so long, that I actually knew her from when my older kids had gone to some summer camp programs she ran. How much safer could it get? Apparently a lot. I'm not really sure of the whole story, but as best I can tell, that person had a problem with G and began to take out her frustrations with him physically. I know she used her fingers to "thump" or "flick" him on the head, I know she grabbed his arm and forced him into a chair, to bully him into her office, to pull him... I know she shook him, by his shoulders. I know she bent down and got right in his face and made a "mad face"...and I know she used her hand to grab my baby's cheeks in between her thumb and other fingers and "pinch" or "squeeze". G used the word "punch" but he demonstrated a "pinch"... I hope it was only a pinch.
For seven months my boy was there - seven months before I understood what was happening, seven months of being mistreated by an adult, of being told by ME to "try harder buddy" and "you have to listen to your teacher" and "you just have to behave". Seven months before I actually HEARD my boy and understood what he was trying to tell me. I will never stop hurting for those months.
I pulled G out of that center in one swift moment - it was a dark winter night after picking him up as usual, but when he relayed some instance from the day it was like a light bulb switching on for me. One moment from the back seat, safely snug in his $300 European carseat (because no expense was too great when it came to keeping him safe - oh the irony...) and he was done there. I left a message on their answering machine, cancelled the check I'd just written for the 'two weeks in advance, payable the Monday prior to the two weeks time frame', called the licensing board, and never looked back.
It was a rocky 3 weeks before I found him a new place. My boss was accommodating and patient, but I could see her generosity running out by the last week. The new place was fresh, and bright, with open rooms and a director/teacher who had also had her own child mistreated somewhere...surely she would 'get it'. And I think she did, to the extent she could. But my G? He was a little too bruised in the spirit. A little broken in the feelings of "trust" and "safety". And he wasn't gonna take shit from no one!
It took another 7 months of hard times, of behaviors and infractions and modifications, of being sent home...before I could choose to listen to the fact that he needed ME. He needed me to be with him all the time, to be the one to set the limits and enforce them. He needed me to show him, tangibly, that he was safe. That he was a good boy, a loved boy, and that he could make friends and have friends and that he could trust his momma to BE there to keep him safe, even when he didn't behave appropriately. Because when you are 4? Sometimes you don't behave appropriately. Sometimes even when you are an adult you don't behave appropriately...but I need to be the one to be there when that happens, because even if I get frustrated, even if I yell, I will always keep him safe. I will not hurt his body, his trust, his faith. So I quit my job and am staying home to take care of my son. He is hurt in the deepest place inside and there is nothing that can heal it save love...and patience...and the every day efforts of rebuilding trust and a deep faith in safety. That's what I'm here for.
So on today, day four, we hung out in our pj's. We had pancakes for breakfast because G asked for them. We ate cheese-sticks and crackers with pink lady apples for lunch and G tried snow peas and decided they were pretty good. Almost as good as carrots, maybe. We sat outside, zipped up inside our mosquito netted canopy in the sweltering humid New England evening, safe from mosquito's, and played Old Maid by the light of citronella candles and our own love. We ate peanut butter sandwiches and read The Cat In The Hat. He was on his Kindle too much, but thats ok. There is a balance to everything and today was a day for electronics and carbohydrates and simple entertainment. Tomorrow is another chance to do bigger things. Today? Today was just perfect.
Wednesday was day three. Day three was a day it was too wet to play, so we stayed in the house all the humid, hot, day (thank you Dr. Suess) No, not really, not ALL day...but kind of. It rained hard, which we desperately needed, and so we played with playdough and made messes, and played in the big boxes that Amazon and UPS had delivered the previous day (no more lizards thank goodness!) and then finally we clambered into the car so H could practice driving.
Practice is a funny word to use for driving. I mean, its not like you can make a mistake, like, say, get in a wreck, and then just "undo" it and start over. No, no, driving doesn't work that way. Just saying. But we did it. I mean, we practiced, not got in a wreck...so we practiced not getting in a wreck? H drove and I breathed and it was fine. We shopped at a far away Trader Joes (because momma needed a little "Two Buck Chuck" after that drive) and then dropped G off to visit with his daddy, and then H drove home again, in a torrential downpour complete with blinding sun glare and rush hour traffic. We were very glad to get home. Both of us equally. When G came back later on, we were both deep in our own electronic devices just decompressing from the "practice". And then we went to bed. When we woke up it was Thursday, Liz was still alive and captive, and everything seemed right with the world. I'm sensing a pattern here.
Today is Thursday. It is (was?) DAY FOUR. My fourth day of being a stay at home mom. I've been here before, but just not with THIS kid. It's not unfamiliar to me, but it's entirely different all at the same time. This is the story of why...
I have 3 other kids, the youngest of whom is 18 and I was at home with her all her entire elementary school years before I started working, at home with her and her two older siblings. I was home, married, driving a minivan and going to play dates and PTA meetings, and running kids to soccer and karate and tee-ball. Until. Until I wasn't.
When G came along, I was a single mom, working hard at two jobs for minimum wage. I utilized a food bank. I had food stamps and WIC. I got assistance for heat and utilities. He was 16 months old when I finally got a good, stable, well paying job. I was so grateful for that job! I was proud of my work, of my employer, of how well I was doing, proud of paying my own way and not using assistance of any kind. When G was just turning 3 I moved him from the small home daycare he was at because I thought he was bored... I found a great preschool with a science and nature based curriculum with outdoor trails and a really good balance of social skills and academics. The director had been running it for so long, that I actually knew her from when my older kids had gone to some summer camp programs she ran. How much safer could it get? Apparently a lot. I'm not really sure of the whole story, but as best I can tell, that person had a problem with G and began to take out her frustrations with him physically. I know she used her fingers to "thump" or "flick" him on the head, I know she grabbed his arm and forced him into a chair, to bully him into her office, to pull him... I know she shook him, by his shoulders. I know she bent down and got right in his face and made a "mad face"...and I know she used her hand to grab my baby's cheeks in between her thumb and other fingers and "pinch" or "squeeze". G used the word "punch" but he demonstrated a "pinch"... I hope it was only a pinch.
For seven months my boy was there - seven months before I understood what was happening, seven months of being mistreated by an adult, of being told by ME to "try harder buddy" and "you have to listen to your teacher" and "you just have to behave". Seven months before I actually HEARD my boy and understood what he was trying to tell me. I will never stop hurting for those months.
I pulled G out of that center in one swift moment - it was a dark winter night after picking him up as usual, but when he relayed some instance from the day it was like a light bulb switching on for me. One moment from the back seat, safely snug in his $300 European carseat (because no expense was too great when it came to keeping him safe - oh the irony...) and he was done there. I left a message on their answering machine, cancelled the check I'd just written for the 'two weeks in advance, payable the Monday prior to the two weeks time frame', called the licensing board, and never looked back.
It was a rocky 3 weeks before I found him a new place. My boss was accommodating and patient, but I could see her generosity running out by the last week. The new place was fresh, and bright, with open rooms and a director/teacher who had also had her own child mistreated somewhere...surely she would 'get it'. And I think she did, to the extent she could. But my G? He was a little too bruised in the spirit. A little broken in the feelings of "trust" and "safety". And he wasn't gonna take shit from no one!
It took another 7 months of hard times, of behaviors and infractions and modifications, of being sent home...before I could choose to listen to the fact that he needed ME. He needed me to be with him all the time, to be the one to set the limits and enforce them. He needed me to show him, tangibly, that he was safe. That he was a good boy, a loved boy, and that he could make friends and have friends and that he could trust his momma to BE there to keep him safe, even when he didn't behave appropriately. Because when you are 4? Sometimes you don't behave appropriately. Sometimes even when you are an adult you don't behave appropriately...but I need to be the one to be there when that happens, because even if I get frustrated, even if I yell, I will always keep him safe. I will not hurt his body, his trust, his faith. So I quit my job and am staying home to take care of my son. He is hurt in the deepest place inside and there is nothing that can heal it save love...and patience...and the every day efforts of rebuilding trust and a deep faith in safety. That's what I'm here for.
So on today, day four, we hung out in our pj's. We had pancakes for breakfast because G asked for them. We ate cheese-sticks and crackers with pink lady apples for lunch and G tried snow peas and decided they were pretty good. Almost as good as carrots, maybe. We sat outside, zipped up inside our mosquito netted canopy in the sweltering humid New England evening, safe from mosquito's, and played Old Maid by the light of citronella candles and our own love. We ate peanut butter sandwiches and read The Cat In The Hat. He was on his Kindle too much, but thats ok. There is a balance to everything and today was a day for electronics and carbohydrates and simple entertainment. Tomorrow is another chance to do bigger things. Today? Today was just perfect.
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