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...