Look in the mirror and repeat after me...

I am not a bad mother. I am not a bad mother.

Remember the therapist that I mentioned we were taking Sweet Center to see for some general unhappiness? Well, yesterday's session was so not a good one for me. It was my turn to sit and talk one-on-one and this man has the audacity to question my mothering skills. Like perhaps there are deeper issues going on with Sweet Center that we haven't even thought of and perhaps, maybe, it could be my fault.

We have determined that there isn't anything sinister like true depression really going on. Actually Hubba Hubba and I have been talking with Sweet Center on our own and we think that the kid is just bored, of all things! Evidently we haven't taught him how to use the word 'bored' properly and he thinks that anytime he doesn't know what to do with himself then he gets "this funny feeling". I will admit to knowing that the whole bored feeling is fairly similar to feeling a little restless and I can understand the confusion for a nine year old. So, our discussions at home are going well and we've found some things to do to keep him challenged and really engaged. Things like learning to focus on his drawing (with the special pencils and paper- there's always gotta be an incentive!) and working on his reading and spelling. Things that normal people do to pass the time. It doesn't have to be electronic, we've told him. The good news is that it's working and he's really enjoying himself. We've had no real issues in the past week since we sat down and really talked about just being bored and what it means.

Okay, I am the first person to sign up for therapy if I think it will be beneficial. I don't mind sitting on the couch if it will help a situation. As for being a mom, I will admit to struggling in the beginning. I was in no way prepared to take care of another human at 21. Fortunately, I had Hubba Hubba, who was a natural, and he helped me get the hang of the whole parenting thing. My struggle was minor and the issues were just general, they were in no way detrimental to Sweet Center's well being. Over the last nine years, I have worked my ass off to get this right. As a matter of fact, we ended up in this guys office because I wanted to make sure that we handled this whole issue right with Sweet Center.

So, yesterday I'm sitting in the office and as we talk this PhD (who I had really liked up to this point) looks at me and ask if I would be willing to come in on my own. "Your son interacts with your husband in ways that he finds enjoyable. Your interactions are different. Why is that? How does next Thurs at 3pm sound to you to really discuss?" Well, hell I wanted to say, my interactions aren't bad with him. They just aren't as much fun to him as playing video games with dad. Also, could it be because it's just his age? I don't think it's a bad thing that he connects with his father like he does. I really believe the world needs more men like Hubba Hubba. Men that are caring and tuned in to their children. Anyway, I get some serious love from this kid. I know we have a good relationship.
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I believe I'm getting off track and defending myself to the Internet. Man, the Internet Court is a hard mistress. You want to share the fun stories, and then you find that you can't ignore the serious stuff either. It's fun in the beginning and then you realize that it's just like any other old relationship, fraught with stress and drama.
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So, anyway, the encouraging news is that after I overcame my shock I was able to talk to Hubba Hubba. After he overcame his shock , he looked me straight in the eye and said, "You are a great mother. Evidently this guy hasn't been paying attention to our family dynamic, otherwise he would see how Sweet Center interacts with you." But, I wanted to shout, he's the expert! What if he's seeing something that we don't? What if I'm damaging my kid and don't even know it?!? "Cancel, cancel now- we are NOT going back to see him. He's not doing this to you" Hubba Hubba said. (I told you he was great- that's why I keep him.)

And I have to say that, Sweet Center answered my doubts a short while later when were packing it up from being outside playing with all the neighborhood kids. As we walked up the sidewalk home, he reached over and grabbed my hand. In a very casual way, he tucked his hand into mine. His almost-man-but-yet-still-a-boy-hand with all it's cracking skin and rough edges, just tucked into mine. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And I realized, between Sweet Center and I, it really is.