Today I was so distracted, but BECAUSE I want more time with my son and to resolve these things. CPS is refusing to set me up for a psych evaluation and has me calling everyone and I've called a ton of people and no one will do it. I'm just getting screwed over all the way. I don't even have time to get these things done. So I was visitng with my son and calling for someone to do the stupid psych eval that I have been trying to get done for SIX months with one obstacle after the other.
But I explained to Oliver I was making calls to people who might help us see eachother more so he was happy about it and nodded up and down, smiling. I played with him while I made quick calls. He built a train while I admired it.
Then I slid down the couch with him and he wanted to fish again and today the fish were "green" and then, he said, after Michelle Erickson came in, his fish were "black". He said he caught a small black one and a very, very, big black one. Oh, I guess he caught a black one and then I caught a "fish" and I asked my son what color it was and he said it was black.
We did a lot of hands on playing and he was feeling really active. I had a horrible weighted feeling this morning, even at the first of the visit, which lasted from about 8:30-10:30 and then it disappeared. It was a very sad and weighted down feeling and I didn't know if it was because of a reaction from something I wrote, or someone I knew was sad, or what. But it was very prominent and then went away, as I was reading, of all things, and I know it's like a sick joke, but...
"Cinderella". I asked my son which book he wanted me to read and he wanted Cinderelly! and said it in the mice voice I sing in for the Cinderelly song. I didn't really want to read CINDERELLA, of ALL things. On a day like today. But I read it with feeling and then I almost started to cry at the part where Cinderella is crying and says she doesn't know what to believe in anymore, and the fairy godmother says to Cinderella, she must believe in something, because she was there (the fairy godmother). Something happened while I was reading this today though, and while everything lifted, and while I read thinking to myself how similiar and how totally different I am (for example, I'm not so "kind" all the time that all the birds and mice are my friends)...I read this and my son was so secure in my arms and hearing my every word. The only thing is that while it's a sweet story, do I want him to believe in fairytales?
It's a sweet story of good luck that happens because, in the end, goodness and being kind prevails over servantry and status. This happens, in real life, to less than 1% of the population. But it's what we all want to believe in, I think--that good is rewarded, and that temporary trials are only temporary. That there is a fantastic light at the end of the tunnel.
I want my son to feel reassured but do I want him to grow up with the idea that there is a fairy godmother "just around the river bend"? (combining two disney movies now). Pocahontas and Cinderella.
Believing in fairytales...I don't know. I would rather he's not disappointed and I felt a pang in my heart, which I didn't share with him of course, that belief alone is not always enough. Belief, and hard work are not enough. There is a lot of suffering in the world and even what looks like a fairytale on the outside, isn't without problems.
Then we played airplane again and he danced with me and said he really liked Pink. As soon as he heard Pink for the first time, he loved her. I tried to change it and he said no, "Pink!!!" he was tapping his foot in time. Instantly recognized a good voice. When I lifted him up in the air to "fly", he looked so genuinely happy. He said, on his own, "Is it a bird...? is it a plane...?" and he stopped and grinned at me and I finished, "is it BOY flying HIGH in the SKY?!!!" and he laughed.
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