Or is it just me? If its just me, please be generous and lie and make stuff up in the comments. Tell me about your pet pony, I don't care.
So I've gone on and on about how blissful our summer has been and like a vise grip getting tighter and tighter I can see my happy little boy slipping away from me. Out of my grasp.
Our window is closing in on us.
And I'm scared.
I can see Alex's sphincter tighten as we get closer to next week and I'm dying a thousand deaths for him.
We had our last swim lesson and he was so sad and mad and I don't know what that he went up and slugged his instructor. Normally he loves this girl. Not today. He didn't know how to tell her he was sad and mad and I don't know what and the next thing I knew he hauled off and just slugged her.
|Even with his back turned|
And he melted.
"Mom, Lizzy ate all the cookies and I'm hungry." He's already started bawling, his chins quivering, snot running down his nose, over his lips and down his chin. Rivers of tears streaming down each cheek.
Like a switch that's been turned on, I can see what's coming.
"I'm so hungry, Mom. I want to go home." He's pacing in circles. Flapping.
"No babe, we're not going home. Lizzy's not done with her lesson. We have to stay."
"I WANT TO GO HOME! I WANT TO GO HOME NOW! NOW! NOW! NOW! TAKE ME HOME NOW!"
He's going in circles, faster. He's still sobbing. And flapping. He gets to our stuff and starts throwing the empty cookie bag and launched it across the pool deck. Moved on to tossing the water bottle and all the goggles in the pool and got part way through our bag, chucking things out before I could get to him. And I was all of one chair down.
|Lizzy, not a care in the world.|
"No. No, hon. We're not going home. We have to wait."
"I WANT TO GO HOME. NOW! I WANT TO GO HOME!"
He's moved on to sobbing hysterically, his whole body wracked with waves of angst. "I WANT TO GO HOME." I'm trying to hold on to him. He's pushing me away.
He's moved on just that quickly from throwing things to curling up on himself, on the pool chair.
It always amazes me the fury that can be unleashed in a split second. And the next, yet just as startling, is the child curled up so tightly in a ball, so vulnerable. Scared.
"I know. I know. I know. I'm sad too." I say sitting next to him, trying not to get too close for fear of setting him off again. "It stinks that Tracy has to go away for college and this is your last lesson. I know that. It makes my body sad too. And I'm a little mad and a scared too. Ya wana go over and tell Tracy you'll miss her? You don't have to say anything you can just go over and touch her. Just a touch. She'll know what you're saying."
"NO. I WANT TO GO HOME." He's not moved an inch, just talking to me through the slats of the pool chair.
"I know, I know. But listen to me. Did you know if you use your words, she'll understand your feelings? She will. Trust me. I bet she's sad too."
He sat all though his sister's lesson curled up in the fetal position. Was a moody as a feral cat coming back home. Refused to talk to Tracy the rest of her time with us.
Right as she was walking out the door he went up to her. Touched her on her hand and walked away.
He's been up in his room on his computer ever since listening to his music and making mazes.
There are so many things that are upsetting to me about what happened. I know this scenario will replay itself all day, just with a different trigger. He was unable to use words but for him to make that move, that touch, gives me pause.
It gives me hope.