Letting Go

Chippie has attended a full week, now, of school, with the exception of yesterday. He has Wednesdays off for the first month.

So far, he’s doing okay. He has hissed, dragon-like, at a few kids; some of whom love it and play to it, and some who are a little disconcerted by it. Oh, and his teacher, but just the once, you know when she asked him to do something school-work like.

I was assured he is going well, slowly settling and becoming more comfortable. He has forgotten to – or just hasn’t – come back to class when the bell went four times, so far.

“So, four times in four days of school, is that what you’re telling me?” I ask his teacher.

Apparently so … looks like we’re on a roll!

Godzilla basically disappears when we get to school and has completely vanished from sight when I arrive to collect them. Have had to check with his teacher that he has actually been in class that day, as I don’t see him. It warms me that he is happy and content to just … disappear into school like that. He will be okay, but then, he usually is.

Monkey Boy has settled in, amongst his friends as he commences year eight; his second year of high school. We have reached a moment, a milestone, that has him incapable of listening to anything I say and the firm belief that I am a complete idiot who knows nothing and he knows everything and his ideas are better than mine.

Frustrating, to say the least, but all a part of growing up; it is a common trait with this age … he is, on one hand, becoming more of his own person, more independent and, somewhat similar to when they are three, so much needing reassurance and support and their Mum (and Dad).

They are okay, they are doing okay.

And I have the freedom during the day to be Me, to do those things I love in greater chunks of time and I relish my To Do List devouring it each day.

My mind has the opportunity to be open and free, to focus on each thing without the need to attend to drinks of milk, warring siblings or the insatiable desire to play Minecraft, a desire so strong it cannot be left unmentioned for even a few seconds and can only be satiated by a mother that has finally turned into a raving lunatic, or playing Minecraft.

I can let go … which brings about its own undesirables, as I discovered after a day of meetings, solid work, significant achievements and things being ticked off the List with gusto.

Its timing was appalling, and there are very few scenarios in which it could have been worse; a business phone call, an agenda to be run through and all those months, possibly years, of stress and ‘bad’ things that have occurred during this time, all those things that have happened to friends that have left me feeling powerless and helpless, all those things beyond my control, all the sadness I have endured, but have pushed aside because “it’s not as bad as what so and so is dealing with right now” … my mind let go and allowed all of this to enter in the same moment.

The tears threatened as we were discussing a minor, insignificant issue. One that, yes, did need addressing but was in no way stressful or aggravating, and my voice turned to anger and frustration as I felt myself losing against this tsunami of emotion, the build up of ‘stuff’ from the last year or so.

And then I lost control entirely and the tears fell, the voice – my voice – cracked and all the sad and bad and frustration of much more significant things was projected into a simple, straightforward discussion about the format of an email.

Needless to say, the entire conversation went down a completely different path, perceptions formed and, ultimately, misinterpretation of the situation ensued – and quite understandably, I may add, given the blubbering, frustrated rambling I was putting forth.

Letting go is hard at the best of times.

Sometimes, I wish the Letting Go would be more considerate and, at least in this form, present itself at a much more acceptable and appropriate moment.

(The phone call situation has been resolved and cleared up, as have the issues that I was not angry or upset about, even though it certainly bloody sounded like it. Stupid brain.)

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