Let me tell you a little, true story. . . .
Yesterday was the first day of daycare/school for k/f. Because K is kind of sensitive, we had been to visit twice and had talked about the experience quite a bit. He woke up grumpy and got grumpier. He whined, wanted to be held and carried, wasn’t “comfort-ble” anywhere we put him. He didn’t want to eat breakfast, he wanted to lie on the couch.
At a certain point, I had to go to work – - and did. And the rest of the story, as relayed by T. . . .
He got them to the school. F was dropped off (happily, no tears). K was dropped off (not so happily, many tears). As T left, K was being held by a teacher, sobbing and looking over his shoulder at T, betrayed. Or rather, BETRAYED.
T got a call mid-day that K had stopped crying and indeed seemed to enjoy himself at Arts and Crafts time.
I got there to pick them up at about 5pm, thinking that I would be in the throes of the other parent-pickups. I certainly didn’t imagine being the second-to-last parent to pickup. But I was. I walked in the door and spotted him right away. He had on a fleece shirt with juice dripped down the front, his second pair of extra pants, his red boots. He was peaking out from behind an easel at the back of the room. The look in his eyes was forlorn, a little despairing, and reeked somewhat of abandonment. Even when I went over to him, he didn’t lose the look, in fact it just turned into blame, with betrayal close behind.
He wanted to get F right away, so off we went. He wanted to be carried, which I did for a bit. He slowly started to warm up to me and began to talk as we left the building. By the time we got to the car he was almost himself, ie not listening to me anymore.
And so it goes.
Yipes.
I find myself wishing that he could be different than me, ie not quite so introverted and sensitive. I had thought that he might be more like T. . . .extroverted and confident in the face of anything. I wonder from where do these things come? Nature or nurture? Could K be changed, or even encouraged to be a certain way?
Upon further reflection (and some probing questions from a colleague/friend), what am I saying by, “I wish he could be more like. . . .(insert anything here).” And what if he picks up on that? Does he feel like the way he is isn’t good enough. I am who I am today bc I was/am an introverted sensitive person. For certain, I don’t like it some days, but would I change it if I could go back to my childhood? I don’t know the answers here but I am surely thinking about what I want for my child. How do I accept him as he is, guide him toward something better, and yet love him and help him feel confident whatever the case may be.
You know. . . the fine line of balance, eluding me again.
