I sent Bubba back to school this week. He started second grade.
One, how did a teeny tiny little baby start second grade?! I mean, I KNOW he still sleeps in a crib and eats every two hours. He’s still a baby, right? I just had him? Brought him home just the other day, yes? Okay, really, the only true thing is he eats every two hours. Lucky child inherited his father’s metabolism and can eat anything he wants. Smash-N-Break is three years younger and weighs more than Bubba by one pound.
Two, who else has that mom voice of “enough”? No, not your Batman voice of “ENOUGH” when your kids are, well, acting feral. I’m talking about the internal mom voice of measurement. Did we do enough fun things this summer? Did I balance his brothers’ therapy appointments with fun time for him enough? Did he get enough fun time? Did he get enough one-on-one time? Did I speak enough of his love language while he was out of school?
Nope, Its Never Enough!
Me, being the ever pessimist with a side of anxiety and depression, says NO. We only went swimming in a real pool a couple of times. We got together with friends a couple of times. We did the library a few times. We did the zoo, splash pads, and museums a few times. They saw a couple of movies. We mixed in doctor appointments, dentist appointments, and football practice to all of that, too. Plus, we unpacked more of the shop and swam/splashed in our little backyard pool a lot. We swung on the swing set and went to a couple of parks.
We went on splash walks, and went blueberry picking. We attempted to do things in the heat, and ended up falling down in front of the fan trying not to die. We made a few forts. We did some water balloon fights. Those always seem to end with me or Plus One using a hose to try to soak the other one. We went to Six Flags and Gas Monkey Garage. Yeah, great list, but was it enough?
Well, to me, I should have done more. I’ve blinked and he’s in second grade. Cliché? Absolutely. Also, absolutely true! This time is so fleeting, and I want to build that relationship so he knows I’m there, so he knows how much I love him.
Love, Angst, & Therapy
I don’t want him to ever question if I love him, if he matters to me, how awesome he is as a person. I don’t want him to ever question if there is a ranking to my love (side note: there’s not – I love them all equally). I don’t want him to ever think he’s not the (imaginary) favorite, or that anyone IS a favorite.
I know that come the teenage angst-y years, he will probably think that, which is why I want this foundation there. But, I don’t want to push it, either. He’s not responsible for my feelings, for my happiness. He’s responsible for himself. I don’t want to suffocate him. (Seeing the fucked-up family dynamics yet? I’m pretty sure we’re going to be buying our therapists a new car. I hope it’s shiny. Maybe it will drive itself, and she can conduct therapy sessions down the highway.)
Bubba Loved It Though
To Bubba, it was a great summer. If you ask him, he says “YEAH!” We spent more time outside this summer than we did back in Colorado, and it was way hotter down here.
One, we have neighbors but we don’t see into each other’s homes. There is a sense of privacy. I’ve noticed that my kids want to go out and play now because they don’t feel like they’re on display or being watched.
Two, we have more than a postage stamp of a yard. Yes, it’s all dirt and weeds with some leaf cover, but that’s a little boy’s dream! It’s my nightmare with laundry, but that’s at least a chore that can never truly be done, unless we’re all walking around naked. I am seriously considering making a sign that says “Welcome! Be prepared to see a wiener! If that bothers you, don’t knock.” Think I can make the sign into a wreath? That would be a great Drunk Pinterest video!
How Do You Know Your “Enough”?
So how do I quiet that voice of “enough”? I don’t think I can. I haven’t come far enough in my personal growth to even know how to quiet it yet. Even when I get there, can you quiet it? Can you know you are enough? How do you quiet that voice of “enough”?