It’s humiliating when the children’s unhappiness spills over into public displays. Gone are the days of babies screaming their heads off in church or toddlers throwing tantrums in the grocery store. When their fights with each other or tears of frustration at life happen at home, behind our closed doors, it’s tempting to feel like the world can be fooled into believing that I’m a perfect mother with unrealistically happy children. The kinds of smiling children that are always being posted about on Facebook or Instagram.
Some virus had been working its way through the house over the weekend and on Tuesday after the three-day weekend, Basil, Jonah, and Xenia all stayed home. Jonah was the only one who threw up, but the others looked like they wanted to.
Justin threw up early Sunday morning, but he hadn’t been himself since the Friday before. It was “Free Dress Friday,” the one day a month the kids are allowed to go to school without their uniforms. The students are always a little more relaxed and sometimes downright rowdy, especially in the lower school. One of my girlfriends insisted on making her preschool daughter stay in uniform on free dress days because her little girl couldn’t put on her learning brain without the white blouse and plaid jumper.
I stayed in bed Friday morning nursing a headache that blew in with the wind late last week. We had less than tornado level winds, but they were high enough to send the pollen count sky-high. Friday morning had also been yet another night of three a.m. insomnia. The kind that sets my mind a worrying and sends me wandering the house in my nightgown, making the sign of the cross in front of my children’s bedrooms. Justin woke me up dressed up in his Christmas gray slacks and white dress shirt but with a worried look on his face.
“I can’t find my bow tie or the string thing with the clips,” he said.
“You mean suspenders?” I asked.
“Yes. Suspenders. I looked everywhere!”
He pulled my hand, but I wouldn’t let him drag me out of bed. “Go look in the laundry room,” I told him.
By the time he was back to list all the places they weren’t, I was dressed in my usual uniform of jean-skirt, long-sleeved t-shirt, and matching headscarf. I searched his bedroom and the laundry room alongside him, coming up with new ideas of places to look while trying to convince him that he should give up.
“You look great the way you are. All you need is your vest.”
“You don’t have to wear a suit on free dress day. You could just wear jeans and a t-shirt.”
He was having none of it. He wrapped his arms around himself and rolled into a ball of tears on a low shelf in the laundry room.
I teach a class first period on Friday which motivated me to get the kids to school in decent time. I made Justin’s lunch for him and packed his house games bag with his sweatpants and spirit shirt before cajoling him to the car. He was still in tears when we arrived in the parking lot. I hoped that he would dry his face when we arrived at school but no such luck. He begged to go home and complained that the kids would be too annoying on free dress day and that he couldn’t stand it.
I thought to have his teacher talk to him. He agreed to walk in the front doors but wouldn’t enter his classroom. Mrs. Kreger came out to us and did a great job, but Justin had latched onto the idea of going home.
Mrs. Kreger ended by saying, “I hope you feel better soon so I can see you smile.”
Justin looked into her eyes and said, “If I smiled, then I would have to hold my feelings in, and I don’t want to. Sometimes I have to hide my feelings from my classmates and teacher. Holding my feelings in can help me calm down. I pretend I’m okay and just a few minutes later I feel better, but I just want to go home now.”
Sometimes a little guy just can’t, and it’s a better world when those who love him understand.
Justin waited in the chair outside the headmaster’s office for Mike to pick him up while I headed to my classroom.
My kids’ unified cry against me is that I don’t listen, don’t understand, or when I can’t solve their problems, that I don’t care. I admit that it’s hard for me to change my plans and priorities for other people. There are also many ways the kids want the world to be different that I have no control over. I can’t make their siblings or peers be less annoying. I ask God for the same things. Can’t He change someone’s heart to understand me better or force someone to make better life decisions? I like my own free will, but it’s tempting to think the world would be better if everyone else would fall in with my plans and be nice to each other.
I’m thankful for Justin’s teacher who showed him such compassion in the hall and led me by her example. I didn’t feel like a bad mother for having a child who refused to go to class. As it turned out, he was probably coming down with something and knew better than me that he wasn’t up to going through a school day. I care. I really, truly care. May God help me to listen, to understand, and whenever in my power to help.
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