Into The Breach....

I always said that I would start to look at childcare, or kindergarten for Connah when he turned three. Why three? Because the first three years are vital to the development of the neurological pathways in the brain, and I didn't want virtual strangers to interfere when everything that happens during this time is potentially shaping the person they will become. And by three, he would probably be at an age where socialization with children his own age may be beneficial to him.

Now that I'm staring down the barrel of that gun, I am hurting. This is a child who has never been yelled at his whole life. He has never been hit. When he is very upset, he cries silently, so no one will hear. He has a tendency to freeze whenever he is uncertain or uneasy in a situation. And I have always been there.
Now, I plan to send him into a loud, chaotic, pushy environment, with people who don't know these things about him. To them, he will be one of twenty or thirty generic children in a room. The people I will be trusting with his safety have no idea how important he is. They cannot possibly know, he is not their whole world.

Children are very self centered.... they have to be in order to learn who they are. Unfortunately, this makes them shocking at dealing with children who are not as loud and obnoxious as they are. Connah is so quiet when he meets new people, that most children do not hear him trying to speak to them, and they just move around him like he's another obstacle on the playground.

I don't want him to have to sacrifice his quiet thoughtful nature, in order to have friends.
I don't want him to feel isolated because he wont adapt.
I don't want him to learn that people will be cruel for no reason, that they will kick and bite and call him horrible things, just because they can.

It hurts my insides just to think about it.

It has to happen. If he is to successfully function in this world, he needs to learn about these things. Even if it almost kills me.

And so it begins. Outside influence is inevitable, much as I wish it wasn't. I can only hope that the mental tools and lessons I've given him, and will continue to give him, are strongly enough ingrained to sustain him over the brutal heart-wrenching period that is the "School years".

xox