I have finally started to relax a little in the mornings before school.
My son no longer dreads it.
He doesn’t scream and cry.
Which made it a three hour ordeal to get him there.
Except for his socks…
I put this task off until the minute before we walk out the door.
I dread it.
I hold my breath as I try to put his sock on.
A different method to my madness every day.
I watch his face for signs of stress.
It is a good morning.
The socks go on the first time and we are out the door.
I am singing in the car on the way to school.
We are relaxed and starting our day the way you should.
But many days the socks are not right.
He runs around the house.
I try again and again.
I am determined to get it right.
Some days he wears no socks.
I gave up.
One day he wore only one.
I handed the other sock to the school counselor.
I told her don’t ask.
She sees the dried tears on his face.
The worn look on mine.
He went to art therapy this summer.
He worked on emotional regulation and sensory integrative issues.
Socks continue to be a problem.
We try putting them on inside out.
We try buying seamless socks.
We try Ultra socks.
And then one day I notice his art therapist doesn’t ever wear socks.
She tells me she can’t wear socks.
They bother her.
Then she tells me she is a UF graduate.
She has a private practice.
She tells me socks do not equal success.
The next day I stop forcing my son to wear socks.
* I had to bribe my son with these pancakes.
In order to get a picture of these feet.
For this blog post.
: ) Johnna