"Mommiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee!" (little arms wrap themselves around my legs giving them tight, loving squeezes)
Hey sweetie are you ready to go?
"YUP. " (grabs jacket & my hand) "Who's in the car with us today, Mom?"
No one sweetie, it's just us, c'mon. (I pull him thru the door and out into the brisk cold where the late afternoon sun greets our faces with lazy kisses of sunlight)
"It's Monday, right Mom?"
Yes it is. Do you remember where we're going?
"To the therapist. You see the therapist on Mondays after school. Every Monday, not Saturdays anymore, right? The therapist is like a doctor who helps you fix your mind and 'motions, right?"
Right. But first we have to go to Target to buy you a coloring book and a toy.
"A toy? Why? What kind of toy?"
Any kind of toy you want as long as it's not too expensive. We have to get you a toy because I forgot to charge the iPad and you need something to do whi-
"While you talk to the therapist?"
I'm not perfect. I haven't been anywhere close to a Stepford Mom and that is why I believe in having full disclosure with my son about the fact that I see a therapist...a "doctor who helps (me) fix (my) mind and 'motions." He's seen my at my worst since Alex was born nearly 22+mos ago and if it's one thing that being in therapy has taught me, it's that full disclosure helps paint a clearer picture for people to see and try to understand. So with Brennan, I don't hide or keep from him the fact that I need help with certain parts of myself. He understands that there are parts of me that can be out of control and need help or "fixing" so I can be a "healthy Mommie," as he puts it. He's only going on 5 but he gets it or at least what he needs to at this stage and that eases the tension on the pressure valve of motherhood to appear like I have it all together. Cause let's face it-I don't, and after the past 2 years we've had I know he can see and understand that I don't, so why try to hide it from him? I can't. I refuse to. I refuse to perpetuate any kind of shame, negative stigma or unhealthy association to this. Even though mental illness runs in my family, it's something my family sucks the big wad at, talking about their problems, their malfunctioning parts, and seeking solid, effective treatment for them. And besides, it wouldn't be fair of me to tell all of you the down and dirty 411 of my life and illness and not tell him would it? Me thinks not.
Full disclosure. I give it to my son. In return he gives me the space I need to spend an hour untangling myself from the web of chaos that is my mind and digging myself out from underneath the plethora of emotions buried behind doors I have to learn how to unlock.....
I'm pretty sure the toy bribes make it an hour worth spent for the both of us.
this post is a link up! Click the button to read more awesome posts and read the creator's blog....
- Manic Monday: Speaking Up & Reaching Out (butterfly-confessions.com)
- Manic Monday: Side Effects (butterfly-confessions.com)
- Manic Mondays: When it Comes to Change, Butterflies Aren't Made in a Day (butterfly-confessions.com)