You notice that I have not posted on my blog in a month. I keep meaning to, but not really wanting to enough to do it. It's been a trying month for me. I have been tired, Ben and I both were sick for a week, and Ben is pushing all my buttons which makes me more tired. By 9:00 I am headed for bed and certainly in no shape to write some brilliant (or even half-baked) thesis on the why's and wherefore's of my life.
So, today is a little calmer and I have some time. And, even more importantly, I have something to write about. Lines. First, Ben. Later the lines between me and others.
I am speaking of the ones we draw in the sand. I am pretty good at these. Mama Bear comes out quickly to defend and advocate for Ben. In the last four weeks I have made some decisions and had some discussions about what's best for Ben. I am good at this. I am very clear in what Ben needs and how it needs to happen. I draw a complete picture with my lines.
With Ben, however, my lines have been drawn in quicksand lately. He moves them and the original lines fade away with the shift.
With transitions in Ben's life come some pushing and shoving. Ben needs to control as much about his environment as he possibly can. Almost every detail of his daily regimen is discussed, challenged and battled over. It's gotten really hard for me to keep any patience at all with him. I just end up yelling, "brush your teeth already". Not pretty. And so I have taken a few days to reestablish with myself the truisms of Ben.
1. The more changing events happen in Ben's life, the more he needs absolute control over his small part of his world. He needs more Mom-approved choices. School is ending next week, Kurt is traveling with work now every week or so, Ben's babysitter of almost three years has tacitly resigned by not returning any calls. It's a lot for him. The end of the school year has been traumatic for him each year. I was completely unprepared the first year. Then I began to realize that it takes months for him to bond to his teachers and then when he's really beginning to trust them the school year ends. Loss and change. Such hard themes and ones I only begin to comprehend from his viewpoint.
2. The more things change, the more clingy Ben becomes. I literally cannot leave the room without him calling for me within 30 seconds. The apron string is more like a bungee cord. He's also clingy to Kurt at night, but still wants us "all togedder" as he says.
3. Ben starts to exhibit more challenging behaviors the more stressed he becomes. At school he is BUSY being the Royal Boss and the Dizzy Performer. At home he does not pick his battles - every decision becomes a battle. I am working on my deep breathing techniques and have replenished the wine rack.
So, there's my most urgent set of lines. The ones I draw with Ben right now are primarily safety related. I am trying to allow him to make some of his own decisions as well. My Mom gave me some good advice this past weekend that I am working on following. It will give Ben and I both an emotional break from the stress.
More lines. I am trying to sort out my relationships with my friends. I have friends who were friends before my marriage and subsequent motherhood. I have friends who I met because we have kids in preschool together. I have friends whose children were born in Russia. I am having a really hard time keeping them, though. Unless we bump into each other, it's almost impossible to maintain these friendships without an act of Congress. Or a reliable, available babysitter. I mourn my time with my girlfriends. I need to find more time to re-braid my lines to them.
Lines. This I will call a dotted line. The line is to a family member. It's being strained. It has always been a bit tenuous and certainly not one I would depend on to hold me as I cross a chasm. For many reasons I will not (and could not) cut this line, though emotionally it would be easier. So I have to build and maintain this line with a subtly toxic personality. I guess I have to coat my line in a solution of wax (to roll easily off my back) and astringent (so I am not infected by the toxins). Sad. I feel like I have draw lines around me to protect me from emotional ambushes.
Last lines. Happy ones. The ones my sweet child uses to sign his name to my Mother's Day card. He LOVES to write out his name and I am so proud of him. He's worked really hard at his letters this year. I am thrilled and thankful every day to be his Mom.
