This past Sunday, neither of my little boys wanted to go to their class at church. I know that once they are settled, they enjoy themselves; but transitioning from being with mom and dad to being in their class has been so difficult. Sunday was no exception. We managed to get Judah settled – but he wasn’t happy about it. And Jon took Siah up to his class. He sent me the picture up above, saying that Siah was pretty pissed to be there and was refusing to join in. He was just standing in the corner, glowering at everyone.
He finally worked his way through whatever transitioning he needed to do and realized that he could “improve on” what they were doing for the craft. At that point, he quite happily joined in.
When I spoke with him later, he mentioned that getting a”list of what was going to happen” would help…………and that explained everything. He was feeling anxious and out of control. His need for security and comfort displayed itself as defiance and opposition. But the reality was that he was scared and insecure.
I suggested that maybe the calm Josiah needed to write the nervous Josiah a letter so when he had forgotten how fun class was; I could give him the letter so that he could remind himself…….because even if you won’t trust me, you’ve got to trust yourself, right?
He giggled for a long time about that.
But it breaks my heart to see him stressed beyond the ability to reason. He is such a smart, capable child as long as he’s not in “fight or flight mode”. Once he hits that…..basically we hold the course until he can come to a realization by himself.
And yet, the longer he stays in that space, the harder it is on him – physically, mentally and emotionally – and I hate that.
I grieve the loss of normalcy. I grieve the loss of ease. I was looking back at pictures from when I had only the older three kids and while life back then wasn’t easy….it was different. It seemed simpler. It wasn’t easy. Jeremy wasn’t an easy kid but he as only 1 of 3 and at that point I had no idea of the world of pain I was headed into.
I grieve the loss of self. I grieve the loss of competence and confident capability. I grieve the loss of innocence.
I feel like a part of me is stuck in that dark space of grieving. Like it’s been so long that grief has been touching me that it’s infused itself into me. Not overwhelming, just subtly changing……..winding tiny bursts of sadness here and there. Not enough to overwhelm, but just enough to never forget………