Let me start by saying I'm having a rough week. It has not been the physical pain, though that is always there, but the psychological pain of wondering if I have failed as a mother to my wonderful children.
Blue, my oldest son, started Play Therapy last week because of some behavioral issues and unexplainable fatigue. At this point she believes it is anxiety, and I am sure I am a big cause of it. In the past year I have spent so much time at various doctor appointments that when I get clothes and makeup on the kids ask if I am going to the doctor? Not grocery shopping, not to the library, the doctor! He knows I am "sick" but he has become obsessed with me dying. I went through a long phase of this myself when I was young and can remember the overwhelming fear I had of my mother dying. It is horrible to hold him as he is sobbing "I want to die when you do Mom, I want to die when you do". I have tried to explain to him that yes I am "sick" but I'm not dying, it is so hard to know how much or how little to tell a 4 1/2 year old about these things.
Yellow, my twin son, was just evaluated by the local school district and has qualified for the special education preschool because of several issues: expressive language and articulation, personal/social, and daily living skills. I knew he was behind, and knew he would most likely qualify, but it was still difficult to hear someone else tell me he was. They were explaining the services they could provide in the preschool environment and mentioned a small yellow bus could transport him there and back. That was when the tears almost took over. I just imagined my angelic and quirky little boy alone on the "short bus" heading to his special ed preschool.
When you have children you dream of what their futures will hold and all the adventures this life will take them on. Maybe because of everything I have been through my wishes for my children were simple, I wanted them to be healthy and happy. They could be a sanitation worker or an engineer, I didn't care I just want them to be happy. Right now Blue is not happy, and Yellow is struggling and frustrated.
Are all these issues they are having my fault? In some way have I caused them or contributed to them? I see how much other mothers do for their kids, and it makes me feel inadequate. Some days I can barely care for myself, and I wonder how in the world I am going to educate my children? Then I'll have a good day and think that even if I can't teach them everything I want to they are still learning through play and life, and are surrounded by a family that loves them. Something I don't think public school can provide them.
So we're back to taking it one day at a time...