Is it a school day yet mom?
Today is Monday. Orientation is Wednesday. The first day of school is Friday. It can’t come fast enough…
Poor Eli’s anxiety has gone through the roof. My anxiety is hovering just below his, but barely. Even my honey, who’s usually a mild-mannered, even-tempered gal, is at the end of her rope. I made her call a friend this weekend to talk about her anxieties with someone other than me because I simply couldn’t add hers to mine.
We’re fighting a lot – ALL of us. Eli is doing things that he never does. He’s been hitting, lying, teasing his brother (ok, he does that a lot but right now it’s over the top). He can’t talk – everything is a yell. He is spinning again and can’t get enough. He’s climbing as high as he can get and wants to go higher. He gave his OT a run for her money today.
We’ve been trying to talk more about Kindergarten. We’ve been trying to prep him as much as we can.
The truth is that it’s an unknown to all of us. My friends with older kids assure me that this too shall pass. They remind me that he’s been in school before, that he will succeed, that I will be ok.
I’m not usually a “but” or “what if” kind of person. But this little adventure seems to bring that out in me. I worry that he won’t be able to tolerate 20+ kids in his class. I worry that he will act silly and won’t learn. I worry that he’ll outsmart the teacher to get out of the lessons that he should be working on. I worry that I’ll make an ass of myself trying to defend him and get pissed at the idiots that didn’t offer the services that he needed in the first place.
Add to this that my hormones are still completely out of whack with my recent medical issues and you’ve got one insane bitch on your hands!
Today I took a deep breath. I resisted the urge to run right over to the school to find out who his teacher is and what bus he’ll be on. I’ll be there in two days and I don’t know the teachers anyway! What difference would it make if I knew his/her name!
I took another deep breath. I tried very hard not to completely bite my friend’s head off when he neglected to tell me he couldn’t make the time we’d set aside this afternoon for a talk and to get some extra work done. I found out from a third party and I still have yet to hear back from him.
I took many more deep breaths. I picked Eli up from therapy and attempted to be as positive as I could be. I tried to rhyme with him. We talked about therapy and ways we could make the activities more fun at home. I calmly talked him through the hard parts of his day.
I took one last breath. I screwed up my day of trying to be calm when I yelled at Eli while he was supposed to be getting his jammies on. He couldn’t bring himself to focus enough to grab out his jammies. He was swinging his clothes a la stripper style. He was singing at the top of his lungs. It was enough to crawl under my skin and land right on the last surviving nerve of the day.
I helped him brush his teeth while I was grinding mine. I led him by the hand into his bedroom and tucked him into bed. I hugged him and kissed him and wished him good night. I apologized for getting angry. I promised only that tomorrow would be another day. He whispered I love you and sailed off to dreamland.
Keegan buttered me up with his “you’re the best mommy ever” speech. I’m sure he knew it was just what I needed to hear and nobody tells the story quite like him.
Tomorrow is one day closer to opening the door to the unknown. It’s like taking off the band-aid a little at a time. Except that I’m the kind of gal that likes to just rip the damn thing off and get it over with.
And I take another breath…