Another one of Mason's awesome self portraits.
What a week. Sometimes it's just hard to be a parent. In so many situations lately I've been struggling with the fine line between taking care of Mason and letting Mason take care of himself. Helping him or holding him back. Letting him learn or shielding him from hurt. I have had an increased awareness of his independence. It didn't help to get a call from Mason's preschool teacher. We're worried, she said. Not happy with his progress. Still not where he should be with his speech. Let's try four days a week.
I don't think she expected anything other than pleasant compliance. She didn't realize how my mom-brain works. Increasing his attendance to four days a week now and then probably when he's four years old too and then he'll be in Kindergarten and then he's pretty much off to college and his childhood is gone in the blink of an eye. Call me crazy but I'm not feeling ready to jump on that train so quickly. It's strange, I know, but I really enjoy being with my kids. When people offer to watch the kids to give me a break I think, how about I keep the kids and you do my dishes?
The whole week was spent asking questions, getting opinions, praying, talking to Mason, to Jason, to anyone that would lend an ear or advice. Am I making a big deal out of this? Absolutely.
Mason loves school. I love the teachers and speech therapists. But I don't like being apart. I don't like worrying about him while he's gone. I don't like his behavior later on school days. But I also don't like how frustrated he gets when someone doesn't understand him. Lately he'll say "I did say that" or "you aren't listening to me" or he'll just give up and cry.
Mason's speech is getting better. Remember when he used to sing "see naz baz" for Jingle Bells? Now it sounds like "See No Bears" which I think is pretty dang good. I can understand him 90% of the time, first try. But few others speak Masoneese. This week he fell and hurt his face. Everyone has been asking him what happened. Either he won't even respond, because what's the point? or he tells them and I then get that blank "what did he say" expression sent my way. No one's fault, just evidence there is a need for help.
I had almost made up my mind to do 4days a week. Then on Wednesday Mason stopped me at the door on the way to the school bus. He told me he wanted to do it by himself and I needed to wait at the front door. WHAT??? I wanted to say "You are three. I'm supposed to walk you to the bus/brush your teeth/tuck you in/never let you out of my sight." Instead I coolly shrugged and pretended that was fine with me. Mason has to crawl up the first step on the bus because he's so little for Pete's sake. He puts his underwear on backwards half the time. What does that have anything to do with it? Everything, obviously.
I read an article about how parents are doing too much for their children and basically destroying society by doing so. Do I do too much for Mason? Absolutely. Am I going to change that? Maybe. I want him to be strong. Independent. Happy. I want him to make his own choices. I hope he really screws up big time while I am still around to give him a hug. I want him to understand work. I want him have pride in his accomplishments, but not because anyone told him "well done".
I remember when he was a newborn and life was really hard. We were living in Minneapolis, my body hurt, nursing was a disaster, and I didn't have my huge family to rescue me. Oh how Mason cried and cried. I remember talking to Amy and telling her "I thought love would be enough". I really thought that because I love him more than my own life that everything else would work out. I thought I would be an excellent mother and that our days would be spent with him sleeping on my chest while I read. Or that he would love to see the wonderful world I was introducing him to. Instead he just cried. And cried.
I guess I still think that love should be enough. I love you (to the moon and back as he says) so you shouldn't ever get hurt, be sad, have struggles, or misbehave.
Once again I have a lot to write about but hardly anything by way of a conclusion. After contemplating pulling him out of school all together I've decided to go ahead and try the double school time. I've made it clear to everyone this is just a 30 day trial and I keep whispering to myself "you're the mom, you're the mom". My neighbor, his speech therapist, pulled me aside at church today and assured me that his progress would skyrocket. Well it better or I want his childhood back.
Today Mason made me smile a hundred times. No matter what heartache we have over our children, it is always always still worth it. He held the door open for me at church. He did his funny little sneaky dance that he knows makes me laugh. He surprised me by reciting my cell number, which I didn't know he knew. And he fell asleep in my arms tonight as I read from the "A Story to Tell" book.
I'm going to go play my favorite game now. It's called "sneak into their room and be filled with awe as I gaze at my sleeping kids". Best game ever.