Yesterday was weird. I felt like an impostor all day. So many people called, texted and emailed me wishing me a happy Mother’s Day. And it was so nice… but it still felt strange. Because H has a mom. And it isn’t me.
We were driving to Thomas’s mom’s house and I looked back at him staring out the window and I said “Whatcha thinking about?” And he said “my mom”.
We tried to call her, but her phone was out of minutes, so instead we talked about her and I told him I hoped he would get to see her soon.
Throughout the day, I think he had about 8 meltdowns. Perhaps they were more frequent because the routine this weekend was different. At school, there were more talks about moms and Mother’s Day, so that could have been the reason. Or maybe he was just tired. The past few nights he was up much later than usual.
But I do know by the 6th one, I was exhausted. And frustrated. I thought to myself, is he even going to remember this? Will he remember me? Our house? What are we even trying to do here? WHAT IS THE POINT? It is so easy to feel hopeless.
Then later that night, we were sitting at dinner. I have been working with him on eating slower. He makes everything into a race. He’ll shovel food into his mouth and say “I’m beating you!”
However, tonight was different. He was dawdling. His TV privileges were revoked and I think he knew the end of dinner meant bedtime, which, like every 4 year old, he wasn’t ready for.
To speed things along, I took a bite of my food and said, “I’m almost done. You’re slow!”
He looked at me and solemnly said “it’s not a race, Woo-sy!”
Which is something I say to him every time we eat. Something I’ve said to him since the first day he ate dinner at our house.
And it gave me hope. Maybe he will remember us. Maybe we are making a difference after all.