It's Not About the Shoes

Our son had a tough time getting out of the house for school this morning. He couldn't find one of his shoes and it was clearly Jame's fault because he took his shoes last night and was chasing him around the house. He looked "everywhere." I had him retrace the chasing game, check outside, under furniture, in the basement, in the garage, in his closet--no sign of the shoe. He, of course, couldn't wear any other shoes because: 1) it is gym today, 2) there's sand in the black pair, and, 3) there's a hole in the sole of the green pair. By this time the school bus had come and gone and he was on his bed crying.

The real issue: he was disappointed over not being able to attend an organized sibling event this weekend. We don't want him to be put in a position to talk about his interview with the DA with his sisters. We don't want his sisters to have any influence over what he said, what and how he remembers things, or "advise" him on what to do now. One of his sisters is still friends with the sister of one of his abusers. Sweet, huh? We want to control the environment, tone and conversation when he sees his sisters. I assured him we would arrange a time for him to visit with his sisters.

We found the other shoe in his laundry basket and I drove him to school with him chatting on about the various kickball games he's been playing in gym class. I think tomorrow we may have a sock meltdown.

Time Lines

I recently attended a two-part leadership training program through the national organization of my humble little local youth organization. One of the exercises the faculty had us do was to chart our personal timelines, marking highs and lows. I saw that mine had very few dips--an accident when I was a baby resulting in several surgeries and a scar on my face, the death of grandparents, the recent estrangement from my family--and many peaks--academic achievements, getting jobs I wanted, travels, meeting my spouse, parenting. It got me thinking of what our son's timeline would look like. He isn't even out of elementary school and has already had more lows than my entire leadership class combined. My anger and disgust over the physical, sexual and emotional abuse he endured makes me physically and emotionally sick. His disclosures certainly put his behaviors and "quirks" in perspective--control, trust, being believed, hyper-vigilance, inabilityy to take personal responsibility. By his reporting these abuses and speaking out loud the horrible things he is beginning the process of healing. I, however, want to hurt the people who hurt him.

Spring

A beautiful day here in the Northeast. Enjoyed a walk in the park with my spouse and the baby while the bigger boys biked and played.

Emotional Roller Coasters

I tend not to be an overly emotional person. That’s not to say that I’m closed, cold-hearted or unfeeling, but I can usually take most things in stride. I’m more on the even-keel end of the emotional spectrum. But this weekend challenged the best of my reserve. We brought Baby D back to her bio-mom on Friday and I spent most of the drive across the state tearing up. I couldn’t even say goodbye. It just hurt too much. My better half (Mama Drama) was my emotional rock, letting me curl up next to her and sob. She says it’s the right thing to do, that she’s where she should be, that there are good supports in place for mom. On a certain level, I know that is all true, I just wish I could believe it. I know this is the work we do. I’m not liking my job right now.

In the meantime, we have a houseful of of boys--Bobby and two new kids--a very sweet 13 year old boy and a very sweet 2 week old boy! We still have to be there for them--attend to their physical and emotional needs. So, I keep the sadness in my heart knowing it will ease with time and enjoy getting to know the new members of our family.