"My 6yo woke up upset this morning. He had a dream that there was a huge game room, but to get in he had to leave a toy in the box by the door. All he had was his beloved stuffed bear that he got when he was born.
Today's lesson: Growing up kinda sucks."
This was posted on a SaHD's page I am a part of on Facebook and I use it with permission and... it broke my heart. Not in a bad way, but, it's something that has been on my mind for a while now, something I haven't been able to get at, something, well, difficult.
Growing up is difficult and watching kids grow up is difficult as well.
Sometimes when I watch my kids playing, especially with other kids, but, really just in general, I am hit with waves of sympathy pains. At the pool lately Nick has been having a hard time getting involved with other kids, playing and the like. He knows a couple of the kids there but hasn't really made any "new" friends. I am afraid the other kids are a little off-put by his cast and, since he doesn't really like to tell the story of how it was broken, I'm afraid he comes off as a little strange.
It's difficult to watch his face as the kid swims off and he stares at the empty spot where the kid was, thinking, I surmise, that something is wrong with him.
And, it's difficult to watch it happen.
I think what makes it really difficult is knowing you can only do so much to fix it.
So, I decided to show you these, instead. A fully articulated, disco-dancing space ninja and a knight banner festooned with string.
I guess I can't really figure out what I want to say today. Nick got his cast off yesterday and we had hoped there would be great joy, but, he's very worried. He told me he was "overwhelmed."
Childhood is difficult to watch. And amazing and delightful and mesmerizing and horrible and flabbergasting and, honestly, so is grown-up-hood.
From Marci's "... things you don't expect to hear from the backseat ..."
(sung) "I am a dingo. I am a dingo. I am a dingo. I am a dingo."
That then segued into "Dingo bells, dingo bells, dingo all the way" ...
I think this is a great post, because, to me, the post itself reveals some of the vulnerabilities of adult-hood. There's all this stuff we're supposed to have figured out, but then we get in tangles with seemingly simple situations. Stops us in our tracks. What do you tell a kid who is "overwhelmed" (interestingly, this word shows up in what I've been working on today.)
ReplyDeleteMaybe, just maybe, "fully articulated, disco-dancing space ninja[s]" are the answer. It's a reasonable start anyway.
This so well put and is universal over all generations. It will also last the rest of your life whenever you perceive one of your children having this sort of problem. It is so hard not to step in and tell people what a good kid he is. I say he because that is what I have experience with.
ReplyDeleteGrowing up was always a fear of mine.
ReplyDeleteWatching my kids grow up too fast has become my new fear.
I am riddled; on one hand I wish they were older so we could do more things, on the other hand I fear for their future, but all the while am happy that I get to join them on this journey through life, and occasionally get to write about them...
I think you have articulated your fears as well as is possible. Not only is it hard growing up but it is also hard being a parent.
ReplyDeleteIf it is any comfort, we all go through periods like the one your son is going through where we don't quite fit in for whatever reason. Most of us are able to get through the other side if we have the love and support of the people around us.
I've had, for some time now, the sense of getting older, but only insomuch as a number from a calendar will dictate. My hair is a little grayer and my shoulder is a little sorer the day after, but it's been just a number on a calendar every year that reminds me that time only goes that one damn direction. And it's terrifying.
ReplyDeleteBut seeing someone growing up just speeds up the process. It's like seeing evolution sped up. My daughter just turned one and I just had my first real feeling of "I kinda miss when she..." And it sucks to think that you'll never have that feeling again.
Thankfully, that is very well combated by the joy of seeing Mabel figure out how to walk and to talk and to have a favorite teddy bear. This new excitement largely covers up the fears of getting older, and I'd like to thank nature for that. But if I live to see a flux capacitor or a quantum leap accelerator, all bets are off.