I knew I’d be kicking myself for this post.
Mom was a no-show (again) for her visit with the kids early this week and it threw Sprout into a tailspin. Sad. Angry. Acting out. Testing. Testing. Testing. And he’s having accidents at school. A classic reaction for a little boy whose control over this world is slipping rapidly through his fingers.
Of course we’ve dealt with the tantrums before. And the talking back, and the not listening. But this week has been especially exhausting because now these behaviors are directed and they are personal. Specifically orchestrated and aimed at me. And what exceptional aim he has.
Did I mention I’m exhausted? He might only be 3 years old and 34 lbs, but he is smart. So smart and brave and tough that I often forget how young he is – I think that’s a common case with foster children. They’ve just lived a life so much bigger than their years. But man, when that child goes to battle he really knows how to bring it, regardless of how misguided his target it.
It’s okay, though. When I find myself at the wrong end of his firing range, I just have to remind myself why I’m there. It’s because I’m safe. It’s because I can take it. And it’s because I show up, and will every time. During a rage this morning he screamed at me in his angriest voice: “I LOVE YOU”. Sprout is a very honest little guy. He is mad that he loves me. He doesn’t want to have foster moms. He doesn’t want to continually fall in love with caregivers just to be ripped away (remember, he came to us via disruption). He wants to love his mom and have her love him back.
I get it buddy, I really do. So tonight before I pick you and your sister from daycare I’ll say a little prayer for the strength to be the soft place for you to land – regardless of the bruises I pick up along the way.
I’ll also thank God for good wine. I’m flying solo tonight while the wife visits with some friends and goodness knows – if I survive – I’ll be needing a glass!
