He worries
We're not big on change round these parts. Exhibit A.
Trey is well aware that his world will be turned upside down in late August, as he will begin Kindergarten. And it is tearing him apart. This is my fault.
See, I kind of know how he is. The whole don't-want-to-do-something, cry-til-you-throw-up-and-someone-rescues-you methodology. This has been pulled many, many times. And so to hopefully counter that, I have been talking up school. A lot.
For I know. There is no doubt in my mind that once we tackle the hairy green first-day monster, Trey is going to love school. Love it. Because he is basically me in a Brandon mask. And I am nothing if not a nerd.
My plan is backfiring, y'all. Instead of the school hoopla getting him excited, it has turned him into a worrier.
He is scared to death. Begs me not to go to work. When I'm home, sits at my side watching me work. Follows me from room to room, carrying whatever toy he might be playing with. Offers to help with chores he previously would have whined himself out of, just to be near me. Stands outside the bathroom door waiting for me. Sobs and sobs to be by himself in his room at bedtime.
Is afraid of sleeping too late in the morning for fear we will forget he's there and leave him.
My heart is broken. Broken.
For I know the desperation and helplessness of worry. I was a worry-wart for most of my life, ironically up until Aden was born. And it has always been my resolve never to display worry to the boys, so they would never have to live that way.
So much for resolve. Turns out worry is part of that stinkin human condition. And now we have a deeper glimpse into the personality of our big boy, and a renewed dread over August 20.
What's the worst that could happen? He could adamantly refuse to go to school, to the point where the truancy officer throws me in jail.
Yeah.
Trying not to worry about it.
Trey is well aware that his world will be turned upside down in late August, as he will begin Kindergarten. And it is tearing him apart. This is my fault.
See, I kind of know how he is. The whole don't-want-to-do-something, cry-til-you-throw-up-and-someone-rescues-you methodology. This has been pulled many, many times. And so to hopefully counter that, I have been talking up school. A lot.
For I know. There is no doubt in my mind that once we tackle the hairy green first-day monster, Trey is going to love school. Love it. Because he is basically me in a Brandon mask. And I am nothing if not a nerd.
My plan is backfiring, y'all. Instead of the school hoopla getting him excited, it has turned him into a worrier.
He is scared to death. Begs me not to go to work. When I'm home, sits at my side watching me work. Follows me from room to room, carrying whatever toy he might be playing with. Offers to help with chores he previously would have whined himself out of, just to be near me. Stands outside the bathroom door waiting for me. Sobs and sobs to be by himself in his room at bedtime.
Is afraid of sleeping too late in the morning for fear we will forget he's there and leave him.
My heart is broken. Broken.
For I know the desperation and helplessness of worry. I was a worry-wart for most of my life, ironically up until Aden was born. And it has always been my resolve never to display worry to the boys, so they would never have to live that way.
So much for resolve. Turns out worry is part of that stinkin human condition. And now we have a deeper glimpse into the personality of our big boy, and a renewed dread over August 20.
What's the worst that could happen? He could adamantly refuse to go to school, to the point where the truancy officer throws me in jail.
Yeah.
Trying not to worry about it.
Comments
Poor little guy. I am so sad to hear he is worrying so. Sounds like you had a good plan to prepare him; it just backfired a little. But I bet you are right; he will love school. And he will probably excel, just like his momma. So sorry he is dealing with this worry.