I Just Want It to Be Over With

It has been a rough week for Scott. 

Last Friday we sent his beloved Wii in for repairs and the withdrawal has been awful for him and for us. 

On Tuesday morning, his bus was late.  We found out from a neighbor at a stop before ours that the regular bus broke down and a substitute bus was on its way to transport the kids.  Scott started panicking, "What happened?  Was it like last time?  Was there smoke?  What if we are late for school?  Will we get hurt?"  Each question causing his brow to furrow more and his voice to rise.

"It will be fine,"  one of the mom's said, shooting me a look, knowing he gets upset.  "Our bus always breaks down," a sixth grader complained.  Scott started chewing his finger trying not to cry.  The new bus arrived and he looked to me for reassurance.  "I hate that this happened!" he groaned as he climbed up the steps.

"It is so hard to have a worrier, isn't it?" one of the mom's commented as the bus pulled away.  You have no idea, I thought, but only smiled politely.

All day, as I hosted a playmate for Jane, took her to dance class and shopping, I wondered how he was doing.  I even contemplated leaving his teacher an e-mail to make sure he was OK.  But I knew that even if he wasn't, he wouldn't tell her.  He hides his anxiety well, going to great lengths to cover up his fears. 

I've been reading bits and pieces from the books I bought.  The information is fascinating and disconcerting.  I feel almost like I did when Scott was first diagnosed with SPD.  As if I am vindicated that yes, there is in fact, something wrong with my child.  That his seemingly bizarre behavior makes sense within this context of the "child with a disorder (this time anxiety and OCD)".  At the same time, I feel sad and overwhelmed.  He does these things because he is suffering so much.  Life is far too difficult for him.

When he got home yesterday, I was surprised that he didn't mention the bus incident.  Later, he told me that the new bus was fine, it is the old bus that is bad.  So, when that bus comes back, I am sure he'll balk at the idea of riding in it.  He also had a new concern that made him forget about the bus.

Tomorrow is a field trip to a nature center to learn about Native Americans.  That means he has to ride an unfamiliar bus, go to a potentially germy place he's never been to.  Eat a bag lunch on a questionable table with god-only-knows what kind of bathrooms.  It might be cold outside and boring and he might get stuck sitting next to someone he doesn't like.  The possibilities for things to not go his way are infinite.

But, he has known about this trip for awhile and he hasn't been stressing about it.  That does say something.  Remember the Kindergarten trip?  Perhaps he is learning how to cope a bit.  That complaining and worrying aren't going to make it any better.

Or maybe he has just learned one of my often use strategies as he indicated when he was going to sleep and said, "Mom, I hope it doesn't rain and the field trip gets postponed.  I just want it to be over with so I don't have to think about it anymore."

Unfortunately, there are far too many things that we just have to endure in life.  One would like to think that a second grade field trip would not be one of them. 

Comments

[mrs.chicken]

It must be so hard for you. Really, it must. I hope the field trip isn't awful.

[InTheFastLane]

That sounds so hard...thank goodness for the rain and the reprieve eh?

[floating in space]

Poor little guy. It's almost like you want to tell him that in the grand scheme of life, a 2nd grade field trip should be nothing to get stressed about, that he will face far bigger things as he grows. But that would just freak him out even more!

[Navi]

I think maybe it is a good idea to email the teacher with a heads up? even if he doesn't make what's bothering him obvious, I imagine it will help the teacher if she knows, unless of course you know he wouldn't want you to tell the teacher.

[slouching mom]

oof. poor sweet boy.

[kristen]

Yes, this is heartbreaking. Did you say you made an appointment with a new therapist? Sending you a big hug, and sending one to your sweet son, too. So. Not. Fair.