I mentioned in the last blog that I would expand on what Z has been processing, so here goes:

Z has been expressing himself through his stuffed dog, Coco, quite a bit lately. I feel a tad like a shrink analyzing what he means when he says Coco is feeling something or Coco needs something. But at the same time, he seems to be really growing emotionally because of this.

I hate to label the kid, and I try not to but it’s not always easy. Z has had a pessimistic streak for some time now. I can almost pinpoint when it started. Mid-year of pre-kindergarten (which was really kindergarten in the private school world). We assumed it was his teacher – she was a real bitch, to be honest with you. And not just to him. She seemed to single out a few boys. But that was back when we didn’t listen to our hearts and instead followed the same route everyone else did. But that bad year, just rolled over into the next. And Z progressively got sadder and sadder.

I mean, who can blame him? Let me summarize his school experience: comparisons to other kids who did things the way the teacher liked, nearly every afternoon spent staring at the Principal’s wall, art teachers who told him he did it wrong (grrrr), teachers who told him he was bad, phrases taped to his desk to remind him how happy he should be, constant measuring and scrutiny, a total devaluing of his sense of self, punishments from the school and sadly from us for his lack of conformity, lots of fighting, crying, and arguing, hours of homework and low grades for classwork missed while in the office (which, BTW a bad grade to a 1st grader is the same as writing “Dumbass” across the top of his worksheet – a completely counterproductive move that makes him live up to what the grade/label says he is), and a complete loss of self-worth, confidence and sense of purpose or love of life.

I’m not exaggerating. I *fucking* hate that time of our lives.

Although we’ve come so far, Z’s pessimism is the only thing that’s lingered. And let me tell you, it’s not easy to not let it pull me down but also realize there isn’t much I can really do. And the past few weeks he seems to be going through a new phase of deschooling.

In comes Coco, the stuffed dog. If Z is upset, it’s Coco who complains. If Z is feeling happy, it’s Coco who is doted on or talked about lovingly. Coco has become a very integral part of our lives. He rides in my basket on my bike, he gets just as many kisses as Z gets, and he must be consulted on any family decisions. Anytime Z has a choice to make, it’s Coco who chooses. Since I noticed him doing this and have participated with Z in this, he seems to be opening up a bit more which has him opening up about past experiences.

Out of the blue, he’ll mention something that happened in school. He expresses how angry it made him feel or how he felt left out or how hurt he was or sometimes he’ll talk about it like it just surprises him – sort of like, he can’t imagine that being normal now. (Whew! That’s a good thing!)

The other day I lay down beside him and apologized for the whole experience. I told him how much it hurts me to think of all the things I could have done differently and how I’m sad that I listened to someone else tell me what was best for him, instead of listening to him.

At first he seemed very uncomfortable with this, saying I didn’t need to apologize and almost trying to shake it off. But after a moment, he started going into what he disliked about the school, mentioning that damn thing they taped on his desk to tell him he should be happy (I think it said “I am blessed” or something equally asinine and dismissive of his true feelings – just one more way to tell him he was wrong and they were right and oh boy, should he be thankful for what they do for him).

Wow. I’m starting to feel really angry as I write and reminisce. I guess seeing Z emote all of this has stirred it up in me as well.

Well, Z’s emotions have been really pessimistic lately and I’m trying to accept my limited ability in solving this. This is really something he has to process on his own but I’m trying to find ways to support him in the meantime. That’s the tough part. Especially when he goes out of his way to find the negative.

So I’ve been trying some things: mentioning how much I like his smile (it really is such a great smile), getting imaginative and “magical” (waving my magic wand or spraying things like the “Good Dream Spray” on his pillow; I need to make a “Good Day Spray”!), finding ways for him to feel empowered (his using “dangerous” things like the iron or daydreaming with him through situations that he is nervous about), sympathizing with him and then allowing him ‘private time’ to be alone with his thoughts.

So far those things seem to help but it’s still touch and go. Here’s what I’m thinking: As Z is seeing that things are different now, seeing that his home is his safe zone to vent or express himself, I think he is allowing himself to peal back those protective layers, allowing old feelings to resurface now that he is in a place where they can be safely dealt with.

The past few weeks he has been expressing his anger with some…um, new words. And he saw the difference in how I took it (his emotions). We were able to work through the anger, then discuss the use of the words. He saw he wasn’t being told to not feel a certain way or express himself a certain way. So maybe now that he knows it’s safe to let go, he’s really letting it all go.

And boy has it been a flood. I can only hope this is the worst and once he lives out his anger and frustration, things will start flowing peacefully along again. It’s really a challenge to not get dragged down but not give him less than what he needs either. I can’t walk away or ignore his emotions but I can’t get too wrapped up in them with him. Some moments are better than others obviously. It will be interesting as I watch this unfold more. (And since I’ve now posted a novella, I’ll update more about this as it does.)