Please Let It Get Better

Mackenzie started third grade yesterday. She was very excited last night. I would tell you how many sentences she rambled off yesterday, but I honestly do not think I can count that high. She was so bubbly, bouncing all over the kitchen while I tried to cook, tormenting the dog by trying to pick him up and play with him, which ended with her throwing him on the couch like he was a small child. (She said he was smiling, I think he was gritting his teeth, as if to say, if you don't leave me the hell alone, it is going to be real ugly.) Her teacher is fabulous. She is the best teacher ever...that is what Mackenzie says. Her best friend is in the class. Yada yada yada...

Chase, well that is a different story. A much different story. He seemed okay yesterday morning. He has so much anxiety, this was great to see him not really stressed about his first day. My day drug by. It would not end. 3:20 is what time his school releases. He was going over to the high school to stay with his aunt that works there. I email her, asking how is day went, but end up calling before she emailed back. I spoke with Chase. He said his day was "okay" but not great. He said he was nervous about his science class. That is really all I could get out of him. He still did not seem like he was stressed too much. I pick him up, did the whole who is in your class, what was for lunch, did you like your teachers, how was gym, and several more questions trying to drag (or suck the life out of) out any information I could get. I was doing the whole sing-songy voice, acting all excited and happy about middle school.

Once home, I began supper. He began obsessing. He needed papers signed, I needed to do it. Like, right then! He was super stressed that we would not get them done. He even began filling some out, leaving only the spots that I needed to sign blank. During supper he told us that he was scared. He could not tell us exactly what he was scared of, but he was scared. We gave him the big pep talk, trying to reassure every fear he had in his little body. He seemed to relax, until....bedtime. At bedtime, when we thought he was in his bed on his way to sleep, he came into our room, sobbing. He was kept saying he was scared. It was just plain pitiful. Sheldon and I talked to him and tried to reassure him, but having anxiety myself, I knew we might as well talk to the wall. But, at least he knew we were there and understood his feelings. We both went to sleep with very heavy hearts.

When he got up this morning, he got ready as he normally would. He asked if he could watch tv, I said yes. When I made it to the kitchen, to work on lunches and breakfast, he stated he did not feel hungry. I knew not to push it.

I pulled into his school this morning, wishing I could just go in there and announce to them that he would not be back, I would just home school him!!! But, since I could not do that, I gave him the most positive smile I could and sent him on his way. I felt like crap.

Once again, I waited until the end of his day, called him at the high school to get the days report. He sounded better, but he told me that Science class was really bad. He needed a composition book and did not have the exact one the teacher wanted, so he had to write in on loose leaf paper and copy it all in the composition book once he got it. He got so worked up about that his remainder of the day seemed to be a bit nerve racking. He did tell me that his reading class was his favorite, which is a HUGE deal with him since he has a slight learning disability in reading.

When I picked him up after my work day, he again told me the story of his science incident. We talked about it, detail for detail. Then I asked him, "Do you think today was better than yesterday?" He thought about it a second, as if maybe he did not want to admit it, but he said "Yes, it was." Thank you Jesus. I told him (for the 145th time) each day would get better.

He ate a good supper tonight, he chatted about this and that, he even laughed as he and I raced each other to my bed that he wanted to spread out on, when I wanted to go to sleep, or write my blog...

Hopefully I did not lie to him and each day will get better. I pray this for him. It is hard to see him so worried. Three more days, then we have a long weekend. Three more days...