Trauma Mama Daily Affirmation Day Four

I need to meet my child where he is emotionally. 

Throw the chronological age thing out the window.

In our online course last week, the instructor told us about letting out kids experience things that typical babies/toddlers/small children would have experienced but that our kids missed out on. She specifically brought up riding in a shopping cart. She assures us that the carts at Target are big enough for teenagers. 

T did a small amount of time riding in the grocery cart seat, but growing an inch a month for seven months put a stop to that rather quickly. His feet just didn't fit through the feet holes. He begged to ride in the cart, but I had to tell him he was too big. Sometimes we got lucky and got the cart with a plastic ride-in toy car in the front, which is a bear to maneuver around the store, but he liked pretending to steer. But as often as not, those carts would all be in use, so he had to walk next to us, or push the cart -- usually with less than optimal results.

Friday we went grocery shopping for the first time in about six weeks. When you have a child from a hard place, who throws tantrums over having to step foot in a store -- unless it is to buy him toys -- you figure out how to get along fairly well having Hubs stop by the store and grab a few crucial items on his way home. 

We entered the lobby where they keep the carts. Suddenly Mr. Grumpy Because Mommy Has Said No To Buying Him a Toy became very animated. "Can I ride in one of the cars?" he asked. 

Okay. Here we go. Time to try out a tip from our online course and see how it goes. "If you can squish yourself inside of the car and fit everything in there so there are no arms or legs or head hanging out, sure."

He contorted himself inside of that car. And there I was pushing a cart meant for a four-year-old with an eight-year-old inside. This kid is almost as tall as me. 

From his perspective, he was able to pick out all his school friends, but wouldn't wave to them or say hello. He knew they would wonder why he was riding in the "baby" cart. Two brothers spotted him and asked, "T????" increduously. "Hi E! Hi E's brother!" T responded cheerfully, as if this all was perfectly normal.

And did I ever get stares. Some just plain stares, some double takes, and some disapproving looks. I sailed around acting oblivious. I was meeting my child at his emotional age.

He beeped that darn little horn the entire time we shopped. Beep-a-beep-a-beep-a. For an entire hour. Grit teeth and let it go. This one is tough for me, because I have sound-based sensory processing disorder. But if he felt like he needed to be two years old and beep that little horn, beep away. I just felt sorry for that one lady we kept coming across, but if she was annoyed, she never showed it.

Home from the store, Hubs and I were putting away the groceries. T came into the kitchen, hugged Hubs, unprompted, and said, "I love you, Daddy." That never happens.

A bit later I went in to the living room to get T started on getting ready for bed. I turned to walk away to do something else, but he grabbed me in a hug from behind. I put my arm behind me and hugged him the best I could from that angle.

"No, from the front," he said, letting go of me. I turned around and wrapped my arms around him, torso to torso. "There," he said. "That's a good hug."

That never happens.

I've been around this block enough times to know there is no single magic cure, but the timing of letting him ride around in a cart meant for a kid half his age and his post-grocery shopping affection was a bit uncanny.

I need to meet my child where he is emotionally. Even if that means pushing one of those stupid carts with a built-on car cab with a beepy horn in the front. Who am I to argue with success?