Boyhood Leaps

My son has a diagnosis.  One I wish I could come out and name but I realize that his diagnosis belongs to him.  It is his information for me to take care of and protect.  As a result of this diagnosis I have been pushing thoughts about his future into my heart and it aches.  I worry about him and the world that he has yet to discover.  I worry about relationships he has yet to form.  I worry.

I have chosen to call his diagnosis "Worry" because that is what it is. Thoughts that are laced with anxiousness.  Worry makes him hyper, forgetful and extremely impulsive.  His hyperactivity stands out like a red bulls eye to me.  When I watch his eyes scurry from thought to thought and his feet jet from leap to leap I freeze.  My still body and frozen thoughts stand in direct opposition to his need for movement.  I look at his struggle to calm his actions, words and thoughts and I break.  I don't really know how to help him in this area.  I don't know what to do with energy that unravels like a ball of never ending yarn.  I feel frustrated at the constant reminders that are needed to keep him on track for minutes at a time.  I know it is not his fault.  But I can't find a home for blame.

The reason that I chose to home school has to do with the realization that a public school classroom wasn't made for kids like my son.  My days sitting behind the teacher desk taught me that school works best for the quiet, the compliant, and the female.  I know that home is where my son will get the best schooling.  However that doesn't mean that I don't struggle with my decision.  I struggle with watching him sit when he much rather leap.   I struggle with hearing his never ending questions, stories, songs and audible thoughts.  I struggle with him all day long.  How do I raise this child and bring honour to God?  How do I sow seeds of perseverance and stick-to-it-ness when I just want to throw my hands up and surrender.  How do I pick myself up after I know I have failed him that day?  Days that are pregnant with missed opportunities for praise, missed moments that build, and days that bleed into each other.

I search his face constantly for signs of that easy to please baby who slept, ate and cuddled on cue.  I am greeted with desperate eyes that hope he will make the right choices and land on his feet.  I search his frame looking for signs of the need to be soothed and calmed.  But he leaps.  He leaps out of my arms and into a boyhood that I am trying desperately to understand.

On another note: I am so excited about guest posting for (In)courage on Saturday.  Come back here for the link.  I talk about a very traumatic period that my family and I survived due to God's amazing love and caring friends.