So after some rest, lots of ice and a few sessions with a foam roller I set out on an easy run this morning. It was so nice to let my brain go and work through all that is going on in our life right now. At the top of my mental "need to process list" was Jake's terrible, no good, very bad day that he had yesterday. There are so many things going on in his little life that I can't control and after I'm done being strong and sure for him I need some time to have a little break down session of my own. Or, more than one. I realized today that I have my own stages of grief, so to speak, that I work through when something happens to my kids.
The first is tears. I cry for them and with them. Nothing hurts this mama's heart worse than seeing the pain of rejection on my kiddos' face.
The second stage is talking. I feel the need to tell anyone who will listen to me about what happened. I need to feel their support and, to be honest, shared horror at the trial that has beset my sweet baby. If I can't find someone to talk to then I will usually post it as a status update on facebook. Nothing makes me feel better than 39 comments all decrying the grievous act(s) against my child.
The third stage is the one that I worked through this morning on my run. It involves daydreaming about how to maturely handle the situation as a wise and calm parent. For example, today I imagined running into a certain child in the hall, gently taking him aside to talk to him and patiently explaining to him how disappointed I am by his actions. It goes something like this:
"Listen you little
You see, calm, mature, wise and I'm sure it would really get through to that child that he shouldn't say unkind words to my son. In reality though I do nothing of the sort. I really thought about and decided that even saying something to the kid's mom wasn't right at this time. Jake does do some things that are weird and as much as I want to put a protective bubble around him I know that I can't. And as he gets older the other kids are going to notice some of his quirks more and more. I need to pick my battles. And Jake is going to have to learn that certain things, like carrying a pink, stuffed guinea pig to school every day, are going to cause him to get some unwanted attention. Its a social norm thing that most kids learn at an early age, and it comes naturally, I think. But for Jake those norms aren't as obvious. And I fear that he is going to have to go through a lot worse than just someone calling him weird to get him to change some of his behaviors.
For me that means a future with lots of tears, lots of ranting facebook status updates, and plenty of miles.