An aha moment...


I was actually wondering today why he seemed needier than normal.

Why did he want me to come to the bathroom with him every time?

Why did he freak out when we suggested a bath, but then tonight when I said I'd stay in the room with him, suddenly he calmed down and went happily in?

Why does he keep waking up every damn night around 3am saying (so very sweetly and softly), "Mommy? Mommy? Wake up, mommy!"

Oh yes. I actually wondered these things, I feel like an idiot for admitting it, but it's true.

And then I had a long, drawn out over several hours epiphany, after explaining on FB that my kid-who-loves-school asked to stay home today and (even more shockingly, because this is a kid who was wired from birth to the electronic universe) gave up watching any DVDs, shows on the computer or on my iPod all day long in order to stay home.

With me. His mommy. Who is his touchstone.

Um, duh.

We're a week away from moving and he knows the schedule, it's written on his calendar. We talk about it, how everything is moving, coming with us (toys, books, movies etc...). He seems very reassured by our reassurance. He hasn't said no or freaked or anything (yet). But he's been clingy...

I neglected to remember the discomfort of moving factor. The emotional sadness factor. The fear factor, if you will. (Is that show still on?)

The one thing he fears losing most of all is me. His mommy. His comfort. His touchstone.

And I've been impatient and having a hard time with the clingyness and my stress levels are high for the same damn reason! I'm stressed, too!

We're moving. But home is and always will be, inside me. Because I am surrounded by love, I will never be homeless, even if I am temporarily house-less. (It looks like that will NOT be the case, though, glory, glory! We have a tentatively scheduled closing next Friday!)

And because Remy is still five, he centers his love still in his mom. On me. And that's completely developmentally appropriate for him.

We snuggled for awhile after I had this realization. I figured out the way to help him go willingly into the bath. I think tomorrow I may have to go in the car to school with him.

That's my life work, to be his touchstone until he develops a touchstone inside his own self.

That's the goal, independence, but obviously it is one that is years in the making. And it can't be rushed. Patience is needed (and sought, moment by frustrated moment).

One day I will look up and he will be soaring free. He won't need me anymore. And I will know I succeeded at this one, great, awesome life work. And my heart will burst with joy.

(And yes, I'm just superstitious enough to add: from my lips to G-d's ears, so may it be!)

Until that day, I'll be his touchstone. And I'll keep showing him that we are home, no matter where we are in the world, as long as we have love inside us.

Yes, indeed.