Zeb, making a list of our dreams: places and people we want to see
and things we want to do on the road.
When we first started discussing the decision to travel full-time and eventually settle outside of Vegas, we included Zeb. How could we not? He’s one-third of our family and his experience will be as life-changing as ours.
So, we sat down. We talked over our situation and our choices as best we could without overwhelming him or stressing out an easily-stressed soul. We told him every pro and con of full-time RVing we could think of, we gave him a timeline for being on the road but were honest that it could change, we discussed the potential challenges. And we asked what he thought.
He was hesitant, for sure. Thoughtful and questioning. But after some time, and a promise we’d make room for his Legos, he told us it would work for him.
And then he was excited…for about a week. That’s when his real transitioning began.
Zeb is an emotional, highly-sensitive child. He creates strong attachments to animals, friends and family, as well as things that hold special significance. For years he kept his school reports and certificates on his walls because it reminded him of *something* good from those difficult years. So it’s really no wonder that this transition – away from loved ones, best friends, his hometown, all that he knows, even his pets – would hit him hard.
All at once he was torn between sadness and anger. This isn’t to say he wasn’t simultaneously excited. But he realized how much he would miss his friends and family. He worried that he’d be bored. Truthfully, I think he was a bit afraid of such a Huge Unknown. In his ten years, he’s experienced some pretty difficult stuff and it’s left him leaning heavily toward the hesitant side of life. Now here we were, and he was feeling as if the security we’ve built for ourselves was being stripped away. It’s a big world out there and it’s already proven to sometimes be scary.
This went on for awhile. Some days – many days – I didn’t handle it well. Truthfully, my own excitement was building and I was feeling resentful for his raining over my parade. I didn’t want to be pulled into the emotional upset and away from the budding joy. Internally, I didn’t think I had the energy to handle it.
On those days I tried to rationalize with him, remind him how much fun we’d have, how many more friends we’ll see and make, how many things we’ll have the opportunity to do. I took lots of deep breaths and left the room countless times. It’s not that I didn’t understand him. It’s that I was too wrapped up in my own expectations to react to his needs.
He doesn’t need to be rationalized with or reminded that he had once agreed. He needs to mourn what we are leaving behind, so that he can be prepared to move ahead.
Zeb has always needed a slow transition. He’s slow to get out of bed, slow to stop one thing and start another. We work with this by giving him plenty of notice before we leave, before we eat, before company comes.
And this anger and sadness was the beginning phase of a very big transition. All he needed from me was a place to vent, some validation over what will surely suck and some patience. So I finally stopped rationalizing or talking him out of his emotions. I stopped trying to fix it. (Wait. I thought I learned this one already?)
I allowed myself to be his emotional punching bag.
He needed a safe place to let it all out. And with lots of deep breaths and quiet reminders to myself to keep my mouth shut, I became that place. Sometimes he yelled, other times he cried. Sometimes he questioned and voiced concern. Some days he talked excitedly and made plans. At one point he blamed us for ruining his life and called us names, hating us with conviction. And that’s about when I was suddenly able to see past my own expectations and look with compassion on my son who was grieving a loss in advance.
And as soon as I managed to stay present and compassionate during his storm, it passed. In a matter of an hour he went from total meltdown to cuddling in our arms. In the end he gave us a look that resembled a Thank You, a hug that said I Love You Too and he was off to conquer the day without the heavy emotional load dragging him down.
I’m not about to assume we’ve seen the end. He’s not that kind of kid. And he still has his moments of fear amid the moments of excitement, although they aren’t as explosive now. But if I can remember to breath and not take it personally, I know we’ll get through them, too.
There is plenty more to say on the subject of transitioning/moving/traveling with a highly-sensitive child. You could probably consider this Part One.
I’m looking forward to part 2.
Can I just say how inspiring it is to see parents treating their child as a PERSON, respecting his feelings/needs/thoughts as much as their own?
I don’t know anyone like this in real life…but it’s really cool to know that such people DO exist. My husband and I are hoping to start a family soon and I need to know that it is actually possible to live this way…I believe it with every fiber of my being but it’s kind of hard when you don’t actually see it in real life!
Have you ever seen the blog, walkslowlylivewildly.com? They’re also an RV-ing, cloth TP-ing, green-living, homeschooling family.
I’m like Zeb, too. So slow to transition, and it freaks me out! I’m sure it takes a lot to be a parent and have to learn how to deal with supporting the fear and emotional journey of a child, while trying to process your own stuff. (Oh, the glimpse I had into motherhood today – will have to post on it soon.) Needless to say, you mothers are all very brave and hard-working and amazing to guide a young one through this life!
This is such a beautiful post, Tara. Such wise words and I love hearing about the process. We all find ourselves in these unique life and relational situations and I really enjoy reflecting back and hearing others reflections of how something was handled well.
I’m one that gets really into mourning what we’re leaving behind, but when I allow myself to fully feel it–it’s like a sweet, sweet nostalgia. Zeb’s lucky to have such great parents.
(and I love the photo edits. It looks amazing.)
I remember what it was like to be ten, and moving away from my home and my friends. We only moved across town, so it wasn’t so big a deal, but I was very sentimental. It wasn’t until well into adulthood that I realized each move brought new friends and new opportunities that were no less than those I left behind. I’m still sentimental, but much better at moving forward without all the grief.
It is great to hear you let him be so honest with his emotions without rebuke. I’m so glad to hear of your experiences because I want to be that kind of mom, too.
Thank you for doing such a good job letting Z. be Z.! My family moved when I was 7, 2 hours away from the grandparents who were my LIFE at the time. I cried myself to sleep many, many nights, and it was the beginning of a lot of anxiety for me. I didn’t have anyone to talk to, esp. my parents who I just didn’t talk to about things even at that age. They never gave me the place, or validated my feelings, or let me be just “me” with them. It is such a delight to read your story of how you are handling this transition. Z. is the much better off for all your emotional prep. work with him.
fabulous. honest. loving. trusting. honoring. i love this post. it is real. it is what parenting should be. your family is inspiring and i love that it is all about the whole and not the individual. hugs to your whole family as you continue to move toward your goal at whatever pace you three need!
We went through lots of similar things during our last move. My only regret? Not blogging about it. I was way to busy and stayed away from the computer much too long! I wish you guys lots of fun luck and love! I sure hope you can get up here to see us.
I think Zeb is one lucky boy – lucky, although he probably doesn’t feel it at the moment to be on the brink of such a wonderful adventure, but more than that, lucky to have two such wonderful parents, who treat him in such an awesome way – who involve him in their decisions rather than ‘doing something to him, who take time to listen to his feelings and emotions and accord them the value and significance they deserve, who mindfully process their own responses and emotions so they can be the best and do the best for him. Obviously, in as much as he is too young to necessarily see all the positives to your upcoming Move, he’s also far to young to fully understand or appreciate the significance of your emotional input – rest assured, when he is our age, looking back on his childhood, not only is he going to have an amazing bank of memories from his travels, he’s also going to have a deep gratitude for all you do for him. Hope that the preparations continue to go well, and that Zeb can start to see the benefits. I guess at his age, it’s easy to see the things that are going to change and be left behind because they are right there in front of you, what is coming up, the adventures and experiences to be had, are so far out of his experience that it’s probably hard for him to envisage them at this moment.
Hi from Phoenix. This resonated so loudly with me. We made a move from an awesome community in upper state NY last summer here to the deserts of AZ. One of our 3 girls sounds an awful lot like Zeb and wow was it a difficult transition. She was only 6, so there wasn’t very much ability to reason with her and her acting out was getting so difficult to handle before the move that my husband and I went to seek some advice from a counselor of ways they thought we could help her. Anyhow, we did the best we could to let her be all the emotions she needed to be and there was a bunch of times she just needed to be really, really mad and deeply sad, but I always just reinforced to her that we loved her unconditionally. While she seems to still miss our “home” she is definitely moved forward and loves her life here in its own ways. Some things that helped in the transition, besides our support, chats on the phone with friends, a visit from grandparents (they make everything better), reading books about other kids’ moving experience, and I put together a book of letters/artwork/photos from friends and family before we left. I gave her the book when we arrived at our new house and wow she looks at it all the time. If you have the time maybe think about creating one for Zeb, just ask all his buddies to make something for him and give it to you secretly so you can make a special surprise for him.
I loved this post. I teach parenting classes, and today I kept thinking of this post while I led the class in a discussion about what we struggle with as parents. I just recently discovered your blog and thought I’d delurk to tell you how inspiring I found this post. I thrive in change, and have had to step back from that sometimes, in order to allow people around me to process more slowly. Thanks for writing about it.
beautiful. this is the first time i’ve read your blog. saw the link on sara’s fb page. your emotional intelligence and HONESTY is impressive and inspiring. it’s not about being the perfect person/parent…it’s about learning and correcting yourself along the way. i love that you are sharing how to allow people (even little people) how to grieve (and that it is OK!). i know people will learn from this example. i have a friend whose son is named Zeb…Zebulon. cool name. my adopted sister has asperger’s so i can relate to the learning to deal with someone who processes things OH, SO differently. i look forward to reading your blog! my husband and i are gonna do some RV living in the next year…just not sure to what extent right now. we love the dreaming phase right now!
[...] hard enough for kids, but for a highly-sensitive child, they really start to feel impossible. In my last post I explained our biggest part of helping him transition – the emotional aspect. But there are [...]