It has been a long, hard summer.

The problems started in the spring. Brooklyn got so sick, then on June 14th she returned to 4 Paws for Ability. She is still there today. The turmoil that caused for J is powerful. He has been extremely aware of where I am and what I am doing since then, allowing no other to put him to bed unless I am physically not there… and even then, it is only when he is at his grandparents that it is allowed. He is stressed about routine changes and about things he trusts to be there just not being there. There are not words said to express this, it manifests in near all he does.

Now, the start of kindergarten presents more changes and challenges. This, the uncertainty about what will happen with Brooklyn, the fact he is getting his 6 year molars early and all that fun stuff has combined into a perfect storm. I am fighting to not just keep my own candle lit in a hurricane but to also keep his from burning all around him. His pain turns into meltdowns. His fear turns into meltdowns. His heartache is loud, gut wrenching and soul ripping to witness.

The whole time it takes all that I have within me to just tell him I am here, that I love him, that I will always be there for him and that we will be okay somehow. This is not the person he is. This is not the charming, adventurous, sweet, compassionate, gentle and caring little boy talking. This is anguish talking; fear and anger and sorrow and confusion all meshed together into this horrible wretched beast that plagues him without relief. His world as he knew it was upended, and it continues changing, and the work we do to warn and prepare him only goes so far when one has a taste of loss in their mouth.

I try not to talk about meltdowns a lot because how fair is that of me to do so? I do not photograph them. I do not video them*. I do not record them because “that’s real”. Those are his lowest points… I would never want someone transcribing every detail of my worst moments, I can’t do that to him. Yet, here I am, acknowledging they do happen and that we are struggling and struggling hard right now. It does not help that he caught a back to school bug either, but that’s honestly the least of his worries.

Every morning though I wake up to him being eager to hug and letting me know that my little boy is right there, ready to try again with the new day before him. He tries, so I try too. There may be more upsets to his apple cart in the near future but, all things willing, we will finally get him to a calmer, more comfortable place very very very soon. I apologize for being vague, the moment I have concrete facts I’ll happily share them as I always do.