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.
Showing posts with label Four year old. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Four year old. Show all posts
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 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.
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 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 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 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.
August 9, 2016
Day Two
Yesterday was the first full day I was a stay-at-home-mom (sahm). I guess in the overall scheme of things, it went exactly as planned. That is, to say, that it didn't, at all.
We ended up driving my ex's daughter, J2, from his house where she'd stayed the night, to her home an hour away with both G and H included in the ride. *two teenage girls, loud music, singing along and being recorded, and much much much laughter* Once we reached our destination, we made a brief detour to a candy store because, well, candy. Finally we drove home with the hope to make it in time to get H home to change for work, get her TO work, and then for G and I to make it to a semi-playdate/semi-interview. We made it all on time but with less grace and finesse than I'd hoped for.
The playdate/interview was for a short term nanny position that will take care of next months rent. So it is pretty critical for us. It didn't go well mostly because G was about as prickly and thorny and ill mannered as a tired, hot, bored four year old can be so I was mutually irritated and embarrassed which made me awkward and inept. But it was the third time we've all met together so maybe it wasn't so bad that the other mom got to see us in less than prime behavior. Now she knows!
Griff fell asleep in the car around 5pm, unexpectedly as he'd already napped once on our way back from dropping J2 at her house, and slept thru the transfer from car seat to the house to the couch, slept thru falling off the couch about an hour after that, and continued to sleep until just after 7pm. Hm. Maybe that was why he acted like a feral jungle child at our playdate? I knew this 'nap' was going to ruin the evening and mean he'd probably be awake until 11pm, but then again, I didn't have to get up early for work and he didn't have to get up early for daycare so a late night and sleeping in the next day is no longer an issue, can I get an Amen?
He went to bed a little after 10pm and fell asleep right away and was up around 7:30 this morning which felt reasonable and not at all as bad as I'd imagined. But, all of that was yesterday. Today is a new day!
We made a King Arthur Flour recipe for Baking Soda Biscuits this morning. There was flour everywhere. I am really not exaggerating in the slightest. Flour. Everywhere.
Flour, a bowl, a spatula, and a four year old is really not an efficient combination. However, I didn't feel irritated like I might have in the past, nor did I take over and do it all myself while muttering under my breath. I didn't sigh with exasperation and G didn't cry or feel disappointed all because I was in a hurry. This time I didn't have to worry about getting it cleaned up before work or before I went to bed late at night, didn't have to worry about it getting on my clothes, so it was just...part of the total experience. The smile stretching his mouth and making his eyes crinkle though, and the light in his eyes while he smooshed butter into the flour with his little fingers made all the emotions well up inside my heart like filling a glass full of ice cold water on a hot dry day. His running commentary (4's talk a LOT!) was so awesome - sometimes humorous, sometimes enlightened, sometimes off the wall and sometimes he was just talking to the spatula. He may not remember this moment in another week, even I may not remember this exact moment or the feelings of love that bubbled up and threatened to spill out of my eyes, but I know it went one step further towards healing his spirit.
Today promises to be full of the unplanned. Oh, I have a list alright. Yard work, a haircut for G, and some long distance drive practice for H...and I might clean up some of that flour thats on my floor, and on the table, and dusted on the wall...or not.
On a practical note, I'm watching my budget but I'm not being as careful with it as I should be. I want to have some fun with G - I don't want my staying home with him to be a punishment for either of us when the goal is to heal his spirit. So I'm stepping out entirely in faith that God will be watching over us and getting us thru this time financially as well as emotionally. I have my savings and I know we are ok thru October and I know I can plan ahead a little but I am not going to be frantic about it. I trust God. I trust the universe. I trust in goodness. I trust that taking care of my child who is hurting is the very thing I am supposed to be doing. Please, if I forget that? Remind me.
We ended up driving my ex's daughter, J2, from his house where she'd stayed the night, to her home an hour away with both G and H included in the ride. *two teenage girls, loud music, singing along and being recorded, and much much much laughter* Once we reached our destination, we made a brief detour to a candy store because, well, candy. Finally we drove home with the hope to make it in time to get H home to change for work, get her TO work, and then for G and I to make it to a semi-playdate/semi-interview. We made it all on time but with less grace and finesse than I'd hoped for.
The playdate/interview was for a short term nanny position that will take care of next months rent. So it is pretty critical for us. It didn't go well mostly because G was about as prickly and thorny and ill mannered as a tired, hot, bored four year old can be so I was mutually irritated and embarrassed which made me awkward and inept. But it was the third time we've all met together so maybe it wasn't so bad that the other mom got to see us in less than prime behavior. Now she knows!
Griff fell asleep in the car around 5pm, unexpectedly as he'd already napped once on our way back from dropping J2 at her house, and slept thru the transfer from car seat to the house to the couch, slept thru falling off the couch about an hour after that, and continued to sleep until just after 7pm. Hm. Maybe that was why he acted like a feral jungle child at our playdate? I knew this 'nap' was going to ruin the evening and mean he'd probably be awake until 11pm, but then again, I didn't have to get up early for work and he didn't have to get up early for daycare so a late night and sleeping in the next day is no longer an issue, can I get an Amen?
He went to bed a little after 10pm and fell asleep right away and was up around 7:30 this morning which felt reasonable and not at all as bad as I'd imagined. But, all of that was yesterday. Today is a new day!
We made a King Arthur Flour recipe for Baking Soda Biscuits this morning. There was flour everywhere. I am really not exaggerating in the slightest. Flour. Everywhere.
Flour, a bowl, a spatula, and a four year old is really not an efficient combination. However, I didn't feel irritated like I might have in the past, nor did I take over and do it all myself while muttering under my breath. I didn't sigh with exasperation and G didn't cry or feel disappointed all because I was in a hurry. This time I didn't have to worry about getting it cleaned up before work or before I went to bed late at night, didn't have to worry about it getting on my clothes, so it was just...part of the total experience. The smile stretching his mouth and making his eyes crinkle though, and the light in his eyes while he smooshed butter into the flour with his little fingers made all the emotions well up inside my heart like filling a glass full of ice cold water on a hot dry day. His running commentary (4's talk a LOT!) was so awesome - sometimes humorous, sometimes enlightened, sometimes off the wall and sometimes he was just talking to the spatula. He may not remember this moment in another week, even I may not remember this exact moment or the feelings of love that bubbled up and threatened to spill out of my eyes, but I know it went one step further towards healing his spirit.
Today promises to be full of the unplanned. Oh, I have a list alright. Yard work, a haircut for G, and some long distance drive practice for H...and I might clean up some of that flour thats on my floor, and on the table, and dusted on the wall...or not.
On a practical note, I'm watching my budget but I'm not being as careful with it as I should be. I want to have some fun with G - I don't want my staying home with him to be a punishment for either of us when the goal is to heal his spirit. So I'm stepping out entirely in faith that God will be watching over us and getting us thru this time financially as well as emotionally. I have my savings and I know we are ok thru October and I know I can plan ahead a little but I am not going to be frantic about it. I trust God. I trust the universe. I trust in goodness. I trust that taking care of my child who is hurting is the very thing I am supposed to be doing. Please, if I forget that? Remind me.
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