My heart breaks for him.
He breaks my heart.
Elliot is struggling with school. Not the academics but the school-ness of school. Last year it was not wanting to sit on the mat and say good morning with the class because he already knew how and didn’t feel the need to practice. Funny. Sort of. Probably indicative of not getting the social aspect of the exercise.
He inadvertently trips the teacher. She doesn’t fall, merely stumbles. She says, “Elliot you should say you’re sorry for tripping me.” He says, “I didn’t mean to. You tripped over my foot. I did not trip you. And since I didn’t mean to I have nothing to be sorry for.” Logical? Yes. Empathetic? No.
He’s such a good boy.
And my heart is breaking.
He meant to write 7 on the board and wrote 8. He became unglued because he meant to write 7. Why should he be out of the game for a wrong answer when he meant to write the correct one? And why won’t the teacher see the logic of his argument of intent? And why is he being sent to the quiet corner to calm down? He didn’t mean to yell at the teacher. It just came out because she wasn’t understanding him.
There’s a special door Lego piece. There’s only one in our whole collection. Both kids want it. They rock-paper-scissors for it. Audrey wins. Elliot changes his mind. “It’s mine,” he argues. “It came in my set,” he explains. He yells. She yells. Peter intervenes. Elliot says, “I changed my mind.” He loses the piece. He loses his shit. He yells at Peter. He has to go to the quiet couch. He can’t calm down. I cuddle him like a baby. The tension leaves his body and he rests against me.
I lay awake in bed thinking that I cannot send him to school. They do not like him. They do not love him like I do. I should home school him. Peter points out that the social opportunities for he and I alone together all day are not great and he needs socialization.
He’s a good boy with pure intentions.
I cannot fix this alone.
I cannot fix this.
I send him to school. This day is better than the day before. As it turns out ice cream is an effective motivator.
Ice cream cannot fix this.