Nothin' But Bad Behavior

I'll take visual impairment and mobility challenges any day over the unpredictable aggressive beahavior Elias now exhibits. My rope feels especially short after responding to other children's poor choices all day long in my job as an elementary school counselor.

Today was one of those days and  I just want to wave my magic wand and make everyone agreeable.

Olive didn't help tonight. Racing past her brother to beat him to a favorite seat not once but twice. The second time her chin hit his head and I didn't have a whole lot of sympathy for the tears that followed.

"Can you go cry someplace else," Elias said to his sister, the boy who often says what others think but are too socially aware to say.

"Do you wish you could stay home all day?" he asked me this morning as we walked to school.

God, yes, but with no children to mediate, worry about, respond to, or assist. Just me and the dog.

"Then I would miss school" I responded.

And I do I love what I do. I love talking to kids about their feelings, listening to their stories, and helping them solve problems.

And it stings that I can't do this with my own son.

I walked past Elias in the office today on my way to facilitate a girls circle, "Is he here cuz he's in trouble?" I asked.

Ms. Karen's raised eyebrows and nod said it all. More grabbing and hitting kids, barrelling into them while in line, refusing to listen when students and adults asked him to stop.

When I try to talk to him about his behavior all I usually get is: "I don't know."

We don't make eye contact, we don't talk about his feelings, we don't problem solve.

My own son lives somewhere that I can't reach and this is a hell of a lot harder than walkers or canes. And sometimes I just feel so inadequate. So damn far away. And I sit here now with blurry eyes and my hands in my hair hoping to write myself somewhere...

...Somewhere that honors both the son that I have and the loss that I feel when our conversations never run deeper than the details of time and place. Elias can talk to me about roads for hours but never once has he mentioned a dream.

He doesn't speak the language of social and emotional learning and that is my supposed field.

And I just want more from Elias sometimes--and yet I feel like its wrong for me to compare, to pine for something that's just not there.

And I guess this is just where I am tonight, crying at the kitchen table, feeling lost between worlds.

Comments

[Bren]

I have no words of wisdom for you - just sending you hope and hugs to get you through the tough times.

[fleming]

So much happens while we sit at the kitchen table. I don't know if this helps but I too want things from my kids that they can't give and make comparisons but I do that with myself as well. I think it is human nature and it keeps us moving forward, striving for more….but finding beauty in what we have and peace in who are kids are is important too. Because I am not there, I can read your words and think how great it is that Elias doesn't mince words and you know where you stand with him. He can't "fake" how he feels. He IS maturing, but you may be too close up to see it like your friends and readers can. Hopefully today feels better. Hang in there.

[Janice Stamper]

I see such wisdom in sitting at the kitchen table and crying. I hear the feelings of being inadequate and feeling lost. I hold you in prayer during these difficult times. You speak to my soul because I could substitute my Dad for Elias so many places in this story.

[Melissa]

Christy, you are in that double-bind of being both parent and counselor and at his school, no less! Try to remember that you see much more because of your unique position. It doesn't make it any easier...but be gentle with yourself and with Elias. You are working so hard and you are such a loving and insightful mom. You are often in my thoughts and prayers.

[Kate]

No great insights here but wish I was sitting across from you at your kitchen table with some good chocolate and beer. It is entwined with grief and loss and hope and the whole mess of it. From here it looks like you're doing an amazing job. Get a date night or a hockey game or a run in and it will look better again. Hugs.

[Sarah Lynn]

Of course, I can't think of anything to make you feel better, which is my impulse. But I want you to know your words are read, and they give me insights I would not otherwise have had.If I can share these insights with my children and grandchildren, especially as the grandchildren are at such impressionable ages right now, maybe they can help the world move toward understanding and compassion. Only a small amount of good out of pain, but maybe it's better to know some little good comes of it anyway?

[Christy]

Oh I wish you were all sitting around my kitchen table with me, with a few bottles of wine or hot coffee depending on the time of day. We had an earthquake the day after I wrote this that sure put things back in perspective for me and I've been in a better place since. That said, Elias has been struggling with school the last few weeks and I'm back to questioning if a regular classroom is the right setting for him especially now that he's in 5th grade and there is more work at a quicker pace and the typical kids are in a very different place socially than my boy. The agony of parenthood is that we will always have more questions than answers...

[Danielle]

hang in here, Christy. I haven't commented in a while but am still reading your blog faithfully. And by all means, explore all educational options available! You never what you will find...confirmation that he is in the best place possible, or the niggling sense that another option may serve him better. Go in with an open mind. And don't be too hard on Evil-o....she is going through a necessary phase, lording it over her big brother whenever possible...she will eventually understand ... Danielle in Zurich