Well, I sort of worry less..
The first time I ever really worried about him, he was only a few months old. We met family at a restaurant, a very loud and busy restaurant. We hadn't even ordered when he started to fuss. I tried to calm him with a bounce, Mr. Fun tried to calm him by standing and rocking. When that didn't work I tried to nurse him, knowing he wasn't hungry. I was hoping, praying it would work because now he was crying, almost screaming. When that didn't work I decided to take him to the car, told everyone to save me some food and I'd eat later. As I made my way down the stairs and passed the bathrooms, where the noise wasn't as bad, he started to calm. Out the doors and into the dusk outdoors where it was quiet and the air was still but cool he stopped fussing. It was like magic, by the time I was in the back of the van with him he was the happy, quiet baby I was used to. I sat in the van with him for no longer than 20 minutes when I decided I would try to join the family again. I didn't even get to the stairs when he started freaking out again. I didn't push it any further and went back to the van. He was content there and I decided to enjoy the alone time I had with him. We never went back to that restaurant and tended to avoid loud and crowded places until he was older.
When he started preschool I worried he would cry, cling to me. He didn't, preschool was an easy adjustment for him. There were no tears, no clinging. When kindergarten came I never dreamed what was in store for us. This is when we realized what an intense soul he really was. I feel I handled a lot of things poorly. I look back and realize just how sensitive he really was, still is. He's an old soul that is sensitive and stubborn.
The crying didn't stop after kindergarten, he cried every school morning through 2nd grade. It was so emotionally draining for me, I dreaded school drop off every day. Luckily he had such great teachers, they would gently pry him off my leg and assure me he would be fine. He was fine, every day I'd pick up a totally different child, he'd bounce out the doors, run to kiss his baby brother with a smile on his face.
I look back on these days and know I didn't handle them the best I could have. I really thought he was just being a bratty kid. I never put together that he is sensitive, he does get anxious and his brain works differently than most. I am not sure I would have handled it differently, not sure I could stop the crying if I had the chance to go back and do it again but I would try harder. Knowing the boy he has grown into, I like to think I could have helped him differently, better.
Now that he's older I don't worry about him in new situations much. We had a lot of change in the last couple years and he's taken them in stride. He's turned into a polite, respectful young boy. He is still stubborn, sensitive and hard to deal with at times and I'm still learning to deal with him, we all are. He looks back on his tantrums, he talks about crying every day for years and he doesn't understand it himself. He's grown and matured and I'm glad he can look back and realize he was a little over the top, makes it easier to reason with him now.
Now he's a kid everyone likes, or at least they pretend to like.
Looking back it seemed impossible I would ever be able to reason with him or get him to do anything without it ending in tears. I am so grateful that he has grown, adjusted, and learned to handle his emotions. He's a joker, he has the most sensitive heart of anyone I know.
The first time I ever really worried about him, he was only a few months old. We met family at a restaurant, a very loud and busy restaurant. We hadn't even ordered when he started to fuss. I tried to calm him with a bounce, Mr. Fun tried to calm him by standing and rocking. When that didn't work I tried to nurse him, knowing he wasn't hungry. I was hoping, praying it would work because now he was crying, almost screaming. When that didn't work I decided to take him to the car, told everyone to save me some food and I'd eat later. As I made my way down the stairs and passed the bathrooms, where the noise wasn't as bad, he started to calm. Out the doors and into the dusk outdoors where it was quiet and the air was still but cool he stopped fussing. It was like magic, by the time I was in the back of the van with him he was the happy, quiet baby I was used to. I sat in the van with him for no longer than 20 minutes when I decided I would try to join the family again. I didn't even get to the stairs when he started freaking out again. I didn't push it any further and went back to the van. He was content there and I decided to enjoy the alone time I had with him. We never went back to that restaurant and tended to avoid loud and crowded places until he was older.
When he started preschool I worried he would cry, cling to me. He didn't, preschool was an easy adjustment for him. There were no tears, no clinging. When kindergarten came I never dreamed what was in store for us. This is when we realized what an intense soul he really was. I feel I handled a lot of things poorly. I look back and realize just how sensitive he really was, still is. He's an old soul that is sensitive and stubborn.
The crying didn't stop after kindergarten, he cried every school morning through 2nd grade. It was so emotionally draining for me, I dreaded school drop off every day. Luckily he had such great teachers, they would gently pry him off my leg and assure me he would be fine. He was fine, every day I'd pick up a totally different child, he'd bounce out the doors, run to kiss his baby brother with a smile on his face.
I look back on these days and know I didn't handle them the best I could have. I really thought he was just being a bratty kid. I never put together that he is sensitive, he does get anxious and his brain works differently than most. I am not sure I would have handled it differently, not sure I could stop the crying if I had the chance to go back and do it again but I would try harder. Knowing the boy he has grown into, I like to think I could have helped him differently, better.
Now that he's older I don't worry about him in new situations much. We had a lot of change in the last couple years and he's taken them in stride. He's turned into a polite, respectful young boy. He is still stubborn, sensitive and hard to deal with at times and I'm still learning to deal with him, we all are. He looks back on his tantrums, he talks about crying every day for years and he doesn't understand it himself. He's grown and matured and I'm glad he can look back and realize he was a little over the top, makes it easier to reason with him now.
Now he's a kid everyone likes, or at least they pretend to like.
Looking back it seemed impossible I would ever be able to reason with him or get him to do anything without it ending in tears. I am so grateful that he has grown, adjusted, and learned to handle his emotions. He's a joker, he has the most sensitive heart of anyone I know.
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