This last week has been hard. We've been trying to get back to a normal schedule with life, home, family, parenting, homeschooling, blogging, all the things that are calling for our time and attention. It's been hard as we try to get back into the swing of our daily lives, and our kids are still in mountain time, waking up at 10-11am each day. It doesn't leave much time for us to get things done before Derek is home from work and our nighttime routine begins.
We're all thrown off, especially Jay. For a boy who loves routines, schedules, and the natural flow of our everyday life, he was just in Idaho for 20 days, playing with cousins until his heart's content, or bedtime, whichever came first, and he was fine with that. However, I think he had this expectation that we would come home, and life would be exactly the same. I'm working on it, that's the goal, but this last week, it hasn't been the reality.
His internal clock is all thrown off, the schedules and time commitments are thrown off, and so his behavior, is thrown off. There have been screams, and tears, and sadness, and happiness, and anger, all of these emotions. For the most part Jay has never been one to throw massive fits or have out-bursts that make me question humanity, and yet this week, they're here.
I realize that this is a normal part of child rearing. All parents go through this at some point, with what I'm sure is each child, but it's a phase we haven't been through with Jay. Because of anxiety that I know he has, I've been quick to say, "there is something wrong with my child, we need a psychologist right now, this is not normal, red alert."
So then I go through the steps of logic in my head that a psychologist would go through. I have admittedly been to several and so I know the basic routine of what that intake appointment would look like for this situation. I'd explain that everything was fine, and then we went to Idaho for 20 days, and then came home and his life wasn't on track because no one could get out of bed before 11am and then they'd explain that chaos is the only behavior to expect when home life isn't normal. Get home life back in order, and behavior will fall in order. These are all of course assumptions that I'm making on behalf of our hypothetical child psychologist, but I'm assuming as of right now, that's likely what we're looking at.
I admittedly feel desperate for things to get back to normal though. Maybe it starts with me, and waking up early before the kids, and then me waking them up and forcing them back into eastern time instead of letting nature take its course.
I have felt desperate for answers as my child is screaming and sobbing at me, and saying, "I JUST LOVE YOU!" while I'm in a desperate attempt to get him to eat his dinner in under 90 minutes, or I want him to put his shoes on, or buckle his car seat, or do any of the things he'd normally do before the 20 day disruption happened.
As he's sat in his room screaming from the latest bout of, "I CAN'T PUT MY SHOES ON!", I've personally glanced up toward heaven with tears in my eyes thinking, "I can't take another minute of this", I've felt peace come to me in the words, "Love is spelled T-I-M-E".
I'm then reminded of all the times through the day where I've put my own agenda before the kids... just one more errand, or just one more break on the couch, or "hang on, I need to do this, this, and that"... When I think of all the things I'm trying to get done for myself, I think of the little boy having a melt down in his room and I go to him and say, "Hey, should we go play some alphabet bingo?" and within two minutes the tears are gone, he's giggling like the entire episode never happened, and we're now into the most rambunctious round of bingo you could ever imagine.
I'm grateful for how quickly a child's heart can seem to heal as fast as it was broken, and I'm grateful for the pressing reminder lately that the way to mend those wounds are with "t-i-m-e."