I can't write that...
Every time we went to the mall when my oldest was a baby he screamed the entire half hour home. He was fine back and forth anywhere else, but that trip home always filled the cab of the truck with his piercing screams. We would make sure he was fed, clean, not hurt, and then take off in the direction of home, hoping it would be different than every time before. Whether it was due to a move or a new vehicle I don't remember, but we were so pleased when he stopped this pattern of behavior.
I’ve never written this story before because it is pre-blog, but I am sure if I had been able to I wouldn’t have thought twice about sharing. I shared a lot of stories in my writings, but somewhere along the way the topic of “my struggles with my kids” was used less and less. It’s not because those struggles don’t occur, but rather because they can now read. And so can their friends.
I think this is one reason moms of emptying nests don’t write much about the experience on their blogs. Even after saying I was going to share I find my censor is louder than ever. I don’t want to embarrass my son. I hesitate to share struggles, pros, and cons: all that I had said I would share. I feel as if it’s been placed in a huge lock box under the dragon’s feet. I have no ring that will make him invisible, so I am struggling with my boundaries and limits. While I’ve gotten fairly good at telling my side of a story, this one feels different.
Maybe it’s because we’re all in the middle of it. Maybe because I struggle to stay positive, even though there is so much positive. Maybe because I feel guilty looking at the positives. It all can get quite messy in the middle of all these “maybes.” I have to find the balance between sharing what’s going on and not invading his privacy in anyway. If I somehow did that I would feel as if any sharing I did was all for naught.
Bear with me as I first check to make sure he’s safe and secure before we start the trip home.