Boys Don't Cry

Baby boy is due exactly 7 weeks from tomorrow.

In 7 weeks (give or take) we will be caring for a newborn and juggling our boys in a new way of life.

It is overwhelming to think about everything I'm supposed to be doing in the next few weeks, knowing that really, he can come at any time, and ultimately, I can never prepare for this huge life change. How does anyone ever prepare to care for another human being so fragile, so vulnerable, so small that they literally depend on you for everything?

These last few days have been difficult at home. Our big boy has been acting out, which feels weird to say because it's not like he's throwing tantrums, or yelling, or destroying things, or even raising his voice or crying. He's just making bad choice after bad choice and then dropping the mic and walking offstage. We're trying to get to the bottom of it, but sometimes answers from a 7-year old are frustrating and no help at all.

How do you argue with the honesty of, "Because I wanted to?"

As parents, we want a logical response. "I did A because B made me upset." But with children, you just don't get that luxury very often. Logic and rationale are not strong qualities for young children.

I can always somewhat predict when a storm will start to brew. Usually, it's leading up to an event, or "trigger," as we call them. Even if our boy doesn't understand and connect the dots, we can assume (usually correctly) that he will exhibit some kind of meltdown either behaviorally or emotionally that causes him to check out, shut down, close off.

This time around, I think it's our upcoming court date.

A few weeks ago I sat him down and told him that we would be going to court soon, along with his mommy, and a judge would decide where he and his brother would live forever. I explained in age-appropriate terms what kinds of things the judge would look at, and questions we might be asked, and told him that no matter what, both mommies and daddies would always love him and that none of this was his fault. He asked a lot of questions and was emotionally calm and seemed to understand.

But then two weeks later, it's Bad Choice Boulevard.

No warning, no explanation, no remorse or regret.

Just matter-of-fact I-did-it-because-I-wanted-to.

When you're the adult in this situation, you want to say, "No, you did it because you're angry and you don't think it's ok to feel your feelings and you feel guilty about being mad at your parents so instead, you act our your anger and solidify the lie that you believe about yourself being the cause of all of this."

But that won't do.

And he would never admit it anyway.

And then some days, like yesterday, his words will start flowing like a fountain of life and I avoid eye contact, and only feign half interest because I'm afraid if I act like I'm listening too hard that he will stop talking. And I don't want that.

So I preoccupy myself, and nod, and "uh huh," and "oh really?" and let him talk, and talk, and talk, until he's ready to say how he really feels.

And that's when he says it.

"I want to stay here."

And it's too good to be true, and even though he doesn't have a say and he may just be saying what he thinks I want to hear, it's enough to make my heart break and swell at the same time.

What does it take for a 7-year old to say he'd rather live with surrogate parents that his own flesh and blood?

It's too much to think about, really.

But in that moment, in that 15-minute span of lucidity and wisdom beyond his years, he recognized where he feels safe and where he knows he's loved and where is community and future lie, and he spoke the words aloud like a prayer.

And I lifted his words up to the heavens and prayed, God, let it be so.