We managed to escape Spitfire’s toddler years with only a few minor scars. Life kept going and so did we…preschool!
I should have seen the warning signs upon entering the doors of a pre-school in our area, but I didn’t.
“Oh my, he will not need those here!”
“These?” I nod towards the army of comfort in Spitfire’s arms (2 blankies, 3 pacies, and Pooh Bear).
Well, let’s just say, she agreed to tolerate the attachments…for a little while!
As I pulled away from the parking lot, the marks from escaping my blaze were beginning to blister and burn. It had taken a small fire crew to pull the flames away from me.
I had escaped Spitfire’s flames, but the ashes burned in my mind,
“I failed him; he is not ready for this. Should I go back and get him? Turn around…no go to work…he will be fine in a little while. I’ll call when I get a chance or they will call me….”
This fire ignited every day in this pattern for the next couple of weeks. Everyone agreed, but me, that he would eventually stop this behavior if we did not let him “win”.
“Win? He is not the winner, ever! He is tormented daily by something that is not winnable,” I angrily whispered to myself.
The daily notes from his teacher were always the same, “he calmed down after you left, was quiet today, didn’t want to play, and he is way behind…”
This firestorm could contain his blaze at school and fuel itself back up upon returning home. Making any story of his fire storms unbelievable.
I was met at the door by his teacher who wanted to have “a word” with me before I picked him up. She delicately spoke of the terrible day that he had and wondered if anything was wrong at home. This was beyond the perfect opportunity to pull out the hose, but I didn’t!
I gave the usual speech when one inquired about his behavior, “Oh, he just didn’t sleep very well last night.” Funny how the lack of sleep is the perfect excuse for all behaviors!
I tiptoed around her various questions and then was released into the stare of blood shot eyes from my Spitfire.
I could tell this day was not going to work out well for either of us. “At least he waited until he got in his car seat before all hell broke loose,” I continue to repeat to myself.
He had lost it, he was not reachable, a fire storm had engulfed my Spitfire and was not going out without a fight. It took every ounce of my strength to carry this blaze in the front door and from there a report of the damages were devastating.
When I realized my water source was not working on this blaze, I used it on myself…no use in wasting a water source!
Six long hours later this fire had run out of oxygen and put itself to rest on the only thing that was not destroyed the sofa.
Good news, the fire was out and stayed out long enough for me to dry myself off.
Spitfire did not return back to pre-school. Although a little late, this was one fire we could avoid…for now. Better late than never!
As I look back on the many lessons that I have learned, I can’t help but to think of the lessons to come and the lessons that I am facing right now. Always learning…