It’s an ungodly hour of night and here I am sitting at my blog. Smart, right? Especially given that his royal J-ness is usually up with the sun.
It happens. It’s no big deal.
It is less than a week now until the first day of regular preschool and the nerves have yet to truly set in. Honestly, I think I am in denial. Yes, he did go to summer school this summer. It felt a lot like camp. It was brief, it was a lot of fun to him it seemed, it was over before we knew it and now here we are. School, proper school with all the other kids, seems so… formal. Serious. Real.
He and I did games and painting today, spending a lot of our time playing and practicing words and generally puttering around as we do on days we (well, I) don’t feel like leaving the house. We tried dot painting on the easel and when that turned into a major excursion on the fail boat we changed to traditional painting. He made circles and smudged colors and generally made a mess.
It doesn’t matter though. He was happy. That was the goal.
Now, our days of doing these things will decrease dramatically. Sure, we can do our usual silly stuff on weekends or during afternoons but things are going to change, and change starkly. I know he is ready, even if he doesn’t quite know it yet, but am I?
He’s my baby, my one and only. My precious little guy who I have held the hand of through every little thing. I can guide him and support him on his journey through school but I cannot go through each day with him as I have through all else in his life thus far. I think that’s where I am hanging up. Strangers, who I hope will become partners with me in fostering the growth of J, will have charge of his days. I have to trust them with his care.
That’s the hang up. Thanks, blog slash psychologist!
Trust… It is something I do not do easily if I do it at all. Now, he who is most precious to me on this earth will be entrusted to people who are strangers to me. I have met one of them at least, and I feel she could be good for J, plus I know the therapists to be reasonably competent but none of that is trust. How do I know they are going to understand him? How do I know his needs are going to be met? How can I be sure that his determinedly independent way of being coupled with his general good nature is not going to leave him overlooked because he’s simply not always as demandingly loud as other children can be?
I am scared of him feeling hurt, frightened, lonely, overwhelmed, neglected… Any of these things.
I am also scared of shadows that don’t always exist. My brain is dark and full of terrors, much like the night George R. R. Martin describes in his “Song of Ice and Fire” books.
A part of me knows he will be alright. It’s just hard to let that part of me overrule the hyperventilating, worried for my boy, the sky is falling part of me all the time.
Hopefully he lets me take pictures next week. I didn’t remember to/get to do that during the summer session and look forward to trying when he goes to his first day.
Alright, shutting up and going to bed. Thanks, blog. You’re better than a therapist sometimes. Also, in that vein, does this count as talking to myself and, if so, am I just proving myself increasingly crazy? Only time will tell, internet. Only time will tell.
