chichiguita's Journal

I am caring for three young children whose mother has just entered rehab.  I met them Sunday and started on Monday.  Having just returned to this area which has been hit hard by the economic disaster--it has taken longer than I had hoped to find a job. 

Already these kids have crawled up into my heart and made themselves comfortable.  Since things have been unstable with mom--there are a lot of raw emotions around here.  The kids are 3,4 and 7.  The boys (the two young ones) are having a really hard time saying goodby to Daddy.  I can understand this.  Their lives have been turned upside down.  He is there main security--they have known me all of 4 days...

Tuesday by the time Dad got into his truck all of us (including the adults) were in tears--it is heartbreaking to see these kids facing this. 

Yesterday the 4 year old (B) decided he was not going to get dressed.  He would stay in his "shark shorts" (pjs) all day.  Had I realized how much of a power struggle this would be--I might have told him to wear them with my blessing.  But I had told him he needed to change and I knew once we were into it that I couldn't back down. 

Thus commenced a 30 minute kicking screaming fit. 

I finally had to put him in his room and sit by the door (to keep him there) while he screamed and hollored and kicked the door. 

As I was sitting there I kept thinking how silly it was.  He was willing to miss priveledges and fun to sit in his room and rage.  He was tiring himself out--I consoled myself with the knowledge that he would probably take a good nap. 

But why not just put on the danged clothes? 

It occured to me that I feel a little like poor little B. 

My life has been turned on its ear.  I have no security right now.  I am grieving and lonely and afraid and sometimes I wish I could throw myself on a floor somewhere and scream myself horse. 

"I want my husband back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He was seeming to be winding down and I was trying to think of some kind of comprimise when he reared up again and screamed his battle cry: "SHARK SHORTS"--with true Mel Gibson/braveheart flair. 

Me too, little britches...me too.