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January 11, 2005 - Tuesday, 2:15 p.m.
Tired today… physically and mentally. Probably more mentally tired then anything. It will be good to have school start up again; it’ll be something else to focus on. L was telling that the other night she was awoke at like 4 am by yelling outside her windows. It was some people in the apartment building next to hers. The police arrived and then THEY were yelling. They were trying to arrest one of the guys and they were yelling at him to let go of a tree. Seems there are a couple guys that live across the way, but they appear to only have one girlfriend. And she’s been the source of a couple fights between these guys. This time she was in the fight too. Later heard that one of the guys pushed her through a glass window or door or something and she was cut from her temple to her throat. Messy world.
I was thinking about Philip. I started him into preschool at a very young 4 years of age. He turned 4 in August of that year and I started him in preschool in September. He seemed to enjoy it for the most part, but as the week would wear on he’d complain that it was just TOO long of a day. I can still hear his voice, deep and quiet as he heaved a sigh and told me, “It’s too long, Mom.” This feeling of his didn’t go away. It was repeated again the following year when he was in kindergarten. We made it though that year somehow, perhaps because it was only half days after all. However, then came first grade, and it really was a long day. Five full days of school, and Philip struggled with the length of his day. One morning in particular I remember, he’d dragged his feet at home and argued that didn’t want to go to school. I had to bodily carry him out to the car and put him into it, along with Curtis and drove down to the elementary school. He fought me every step of the way. He refused to get out of the car. I came around and picked him up to carry him into the school. Curtis walked along side me watching the unfolding events without a word. Philip was very firm. He did NOT want to go to school. As I carried him towards the school we walked by a sign (which I believe said ‘no parking’), Philip grabbed a hold of the signpost, protesting VERY loudly that he did NOT want to go to school. There I was holding on to him, and there he was holding onto the sign with both hands begging me to let him go home. I finally struggled with him enough that he lost his grip and we move on towards the school. He then grabbed a hold of the door handle and again let me know how much he did NOT want to go to school. We struggled some more and presto… we were in the school. He immediately got quiet, probably didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of anyone he might know. He very obediently went into his classroom and made it through the day. He never did have that issue again. We never had that struggle going to school. I remember at the time how it was both funny and heart breaking. My heart ached for a kid who so desperately want to stay home and didn’t want to spend so much time at school, and yet at the same time I knew that to give in would have opened up a nightmare of daily struggles. Those are the days it is hard to be a Mom. You’re heart is crying “Let him stay home, for God’s sake,” but your rational, adult mind says, “It’ll be anarchy if we let this happen!!”
This is Phil’s last few days home before he heads back to Fort Collins. I don’t expect to see him as often this semester, though he’ll be back home this summer and then will go to school here in the Springs for the rest of his degree.
Feeling restless today… restless and weary.