It’s too much, mama
Iain’s teacher organized the sweetest Mother’s Day Luncheon for us today. The mothers gathered outside the front door of the school waiting for the all clear. He came outside to get me, took me by the hand and as we were headed up the stairs with the other mothers he looked and me and said, “I’m so happy you’re here, mama. Thank you for coming.” I could’ve melted right there. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling like the most loved mom in the bunch. I guess that’s because I WAS. I rock. I am mother, hear me yell.
The kids made sandwiches for all of us and served them on paper plates with chips and baby carrots. We had lukewarm water to drink and a small cupcake wrapper full of cookies for desert. It was the best lunch I ever had. Did I mention that the sandwiches were cut into heart shapes? My boy knows me so well that he made me a yellow cheese sandwich and not an icky sweet jelly one. He gets me.
There was a lot of commotion and the atmosphere was extra-loud and I think it caught him off guard. Almost immediately he started asking when we were supposed to leave. I didn’t think much of it because he does that a lot no matter if he’s anxious or not. Time is a thing for us right now: What time is this? What time is that? What time is it? What time are we going here, there, wherever?
First he asked me if we were going to Target afterward. I told him no and he buried his head in his hands and started to cry. He tried muffling himself as well as he could but some of the other kids noticed. They didn’t say anything and for that I’m thankful. I got him to calm down and diverted his attention a bit. Then his teacher passed out some books that they were reading and she asked the kids to read them to their mothers. Now, he doesn’t have problems reading to me at home but I think he was already too overwhelmed to attempt it and he got upset again. It was a little harder calming him down but I tried to convince him that it was okay and that he didn’t have to read if he didn’t want to.
What ended our lunch was when his teacher announced that they had a song for the mothers and for each kid to pair up with the one next to them. I’m sure they rehearsed it but we were already past the point where he would’ve been able to hold it together. She shut the lights off to get the kids’ attentions and to get them paired up and we used that opportunity to slip out.
When I was trying to comfort him I asked him things like if he felt tired or sick. He did say that he felt tired but when I asked him if it was a little too much for him he gently answered, trying not to cry, “It’s too much, mama.” It breaks my heart because I think he’s starting to realize that he reacts to things differently than his friends and it makes him frustrated and sad. All I could do is tell him that it was okay and that it will get easier for him. I don’t know if I lied to him today telling him that but maybe if he starts thinking it, it will get easier. I wish I could do more for him; all I can do is hold him and tell him it will be all right even when right then it seems like it’s too much.
