You know those days where you wake up before you want to and can’t get back to sleep and then your routine is disrupted because someone in your family has made plans for the day without consulting you so you start your day tired and then grumpy and nothing can seem to fix it so even when things are going fine you’re one misstep away from a breakdown and when the breakdowns happen you want to be inconsolable because none of this is your fault anyway and the world is out to get you and you just want to take a nice long nap but can’t seem to make that happen either which just makes everything worse.
That basically describes my son’s day.
Except that when things were going fine, he was helping people. I really believe that my little boy is a natural helper. Like more than just that he’s at s stage where he just wants to do whatever people are doing or be involved in whatever is going on.
He really did have a bit of a rough one today. But he tried so hard to be cheerful.
And I wish I could describe the moment that I first pushed him on the swing this afternoon. Like swinging is a coping mechanism for him. Therapy.
I pushed, and he exhaled. Audibly. Let it out. All the tension and and frustration and exhaustion of the day. Gone. For a few minutes at least. He closed his eyes and let the swing take him.
Then he climbed the ladder up to the slides. Twice. (And scooted down the steps to get down because he still won’t go on a slide.)
Things got tough again on the way home when I wouldn’t let him play basketball with some random boys in the neighborhood. But overall he was better for the rest of the night. Like those few minutes on the swing flipped a switch.
Here are my takeaways.
1. I love that kid. So much.
2. I need to “swing” more.
3. It’s hard to be a toddler.