At the same time that we were learning how to save our marriage, the pressures of parenthood and jobs continued.
Know that “We are THERE”
As children, both my husband and I lived in emotional abandonment. We didn’t know that it was called that, but we knew its pain. Only later, in therapy, would we understand what it was. While we had our physical needs provided for us, our parents were emotionally absent or damaging.
So we were both fiercely determined that our son would never experience that. He could grow up to be one of those teens rolling his eyes later on because we were too loving, involved, embarrassing, or whatever. And we would be fine with that. But he would never grow up feeling ALONE.
Somewhere in that first year of parenthood, between the increasing illnesses of Ed’s parents and their needs, our son’s needs, and so many challenges barraging us, we made a permanent decision to only have one child.
While it would have been nice to give our son a sibling he could bond with and not be an only child, there are worse things in life. And having a sibling is no guarantee that they would be close. Sometimes the closest bonds are those we choose, not the ones born with us.
So our decision was, “Let’s try to do one child right.”
Looking back, it was absolutely the correct decision.
Bye-bye!!!
He loved fire trucks. On one of the many times his early daycare sent him home “sick” — which translated to “He was too active and they didn’t want to deal with him” — I sat him down with snacks and put on the old movie, the “Towering Inferno.” With tons of fire trucks everywhere, and Steve McQueen all decked out in fire gear, I figured that would be great.
And it was. Until I saw that scene coming on that I’d forgotten about, where Robert Wagner’s love interest is trapped, crashes out the window, and dives to her death. Horrified that he would see that and be scarred for life, I literally dove across the living room to try to change the channel, but I was too late. However, I shouldn’t have worried. My toddler son just thought she was “leaving the room,” waved his hand, and happily called out, “Bye-Bye!!!”
Another time, I was on the phone with the doctor, worried about my son’s 104-degree temperature. Ironically, as I spoke with the physician, I watched from across the room as my son leaped off the couch, yelling, “I am a fireman!” I rolled my eyes. If I’d had that same temperature, I would have just wanted you to take me out back and shoot me. That was life with my son.
Until I got him into a Montessori-based daycare, which was an absolute godsend, every daycare I used always sent him home with a “fever.” That’s because he was more than they wanted to deal with, and they knew that the law required that any child with a fever had to be sent home immediately. AND that child had to stay home for at least 24 more hours. It didn’t matter that EVERY TIME one of us went to pick him up, he suddenly no longer had the fever. He’d “had one earlier” that disappeared, so he still had to go home.
Of course, that happened the day we were set to move from our apartment in RTP into our new house. First, the movers showed up…with only one old guy and a hand truck. I called my husband at work, who said, “FIRE THEM! We’ll move ourselves!” I will admit, this gave me pause. But we were strong, so I fired them. However, I no sooner hung up from my husband’s call than I got one from the daycare. You guessed it. “He has a fever.”
We did manage it all. A couple of my husband’s co-workers came to help us. And as always, flexibility and creativity helped. I simply put our toddler son “in charge” of watching us carry boxes and furniture and telling us if we were doing it right. He was the “traffic cop.” He loved it. We survived the move.
Those hated “Workday Mornings”
As to “workday mornings,” I’ll share about job pressures next. But simply put, my son hated it when I was working full-time, especially when I worked at the pharmaceutical company. He said I was always grumpy and in a hurry. And he wasn’t wrong. I hated it, too.
At least by then, he was in the Montessori daycare. They took it as a personal challenge to engage and actively work with “kids who were ‘too much’ for regular daycares.” As the director told me, “If I sent him home because he was bored, I’m not doing my job!”
He was in the class with a middle-aged, “veteran” named Karen. I will be grateful to that woman until the day I die. She terrified all of us parents, but boy, could she manage that room full of toddlers with a mastery I am still in awe of. She is no longer with us, and may she be living her best eternity. She deserves it. My son loved her and visited her even through high school. Needless to say, if they sent him home sick, he really was.
But despite that helpful daycare change, I hated the corporate work I was doing. I hated the business trips. And I just couldn’t shake the sense that I was going in the wrong direction. I needed to be home with my son.
It didn’t help that at that time, Kenny Loggins redid a song from his earlier years about Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh. He called it “Return to Pooh Corner,” and the lyrics in that song would reduce me to tears…especially when he sang about watching his young son sleep and then about him choosing to return to Pooh Corner with his son. If EVER there was a message stabbing me in the gut to quit, THAT was the one.
The last straw
The last straw came when his early elementary teacher at the Montessori school came to me one day and said, “He can’t read…” And that was in spite of the fact that we read together every night.
Even worse, our son knew he was failing and was ashamed and depressed. That was it. Something had to change, or we would lose our son.
Soul Mosaic 
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