I am weary today. Bone tired and emotionally spent. It comes from a culmination of things. The sweet babe refuses to sleep in his bed, and from the hours of 2 a.m. to 8 a.m. will only sleep if laying directly on my chest. Endearing? Yes. Conducive to sleep? Not so much. But I don’t begrudge him this. How can you begrudge a babe anything? I’ve never understood that. And I would take every sleepless night over the lack of perfect little babiness that plagued me for so long.
|They look so sweet, don’t they?|
But then there’s the boy. See this picture? It’s has every semblance of perfect childhood. And at the moment, there is peace. But I’ve mentioned before that we deal with multiple different behavior issues. Things have gotten dramatically better. I mean, like 180 you wouldn’t recognize him better. But nothing is perfect. And when dealing with reactive attachment disorder, nothing is stable. And I’m exhausted. The thing is, he is sooooo smart. He knows the right decisions to take, and he knows that his misbehavior means a consequence. But the last few days have been rough. He was fantastic all through our vacation. He played with the cousins and had a great time. It was a glimpse into normalcy. Then we got home, and all hell broke loose. It’s like he worked so hard at making good choices that he was just done. The meltdowns, hissy-fits and pouting has ensued ever since. And I’m tired.
Today I picked up my bible. I haven’t been doing the bible study I started since the babe came. It has, admittedly, been the last thing on my mind. But my soul is thirsty, and my heart is aching, and I need some solace. Four verses in I felt the tears.