Tummy mom

I started this post before summer, but have not been motivated to write anything positive. Thinking this post was too negative, I realized, I was wrong. We should celebrate all the moms.

Fits were frequent since December, but finally, slowly decreasing in June. (Post with attachment therapy, integrated medicine and neuropsych journey to come later.) As the last one was in full swing, in June, *little man began screaming, “I want my mom, I want my mom.” He becomes obsessive and repetitive when he is in his “caveman” brain. Man, he is loud for supposed weak lungs and asthma. His nervous system sends more adrenaline and noradrenaline than you would think an adult body could produce.

The next day, he acts a like a hungover college kid, feels guilty, seeks attention, somewhat remorseful, yet tests boundaries afterwards. He came in my classroom afterschool and said, as if he had learned it somewhere, “I have a big fat tummy and I have no mom,” which he chose to repeat several times after C$ asked him what he said.

The next night, while laying in bed, I brought up the comments, saying that I knew he was trying to be hurtful since he was mad at me, but that I am his forever mom, making the comments inaccurate. He covered his face in embarrassment. But then, I brought up how lucky and special he is that he has 3 moms and all 3 are special for different reasons. He perked up and wanted to hear all about them. I told him his bio mom was special because she carried him in her tummy. If she didn’t do that, we never would have been able to have him forever. Then he had a foster mom, technically two (each for a long time) but I was trying to normalize the number, plus we call one his aunt, so it’s the truth. Last, (and I definitely feel that way) he has his forever mom, me.

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