Being With Big Feelings

Better Title: "Honoring your child's
separation anxiety by
listening to their legit feelings!"

Last night I came home from work, kids were already in bed, I was able to sneak in and say goodnight as they weren't quite asleep because of the time change.  I felt all ooey gooey inside.  Noting these feelings and how up until I had had kids, I had never felt ooey gooey love, I grinned and said to my husband, "Man I love our kids."

As I went to bed that night I drifted off to sleep suddenly woken by a burning sensation in my chest that turned to a dense and very heavy weight there.  I missed them.  My Tuesdays I literally don't see them all day.  My days used to be set up so I was with them 2.5 days a week.  Now it is 1.5 and on two of those gone days, I don't arrive home in time to put them to bed.  I have had these "missing" bouts before and often I wonder how it is a mutual experience I am having.  I am missing them AND I am picking up on their missing of me.  So I took it as a sign that I was needed and asked my husband if he wanted to join me on their floor.  I was sure I wasn't just doing it for myself but surely there was that there too.  My husband said no thanks but was ok if I did so off I went.  Sure enough, an hour later I hear my oldest crying out in sleep, "Mama" and was so glad I was there for his cries.  I pulled him down on the floor with me and asked him what he needed.  He said, "I just want you to hold me."

This morning was fun waking to their sweet faces beaming at me.  My oldest came and rubbed my head the way I do sometimes and I hear my 20 month old say "Hey You!" when he saw me there.  So sweet.  I know they are missing our connection and had recently gotten some parenting advice from Patty Wipfler about lingering just a bit at our goodbyes to "hear" some of their feelings rather than jetting off.  Sure enough, my youngest son, more than usual, had real heartache this morning when I left him at the daycare with a very loving attuned provider.  I had given her advance notice that I wanted to show up and hear more of his sad feelings, that he didn't need to be calm and quiet for me.  I wanted to hear him out.  It ignited tears in some of the other kids but I think those tears weren't just tears of empathy but perhaps those kids also felt like they could release to.
I am home now.  The look on my youngest son's face is burned in my brain.  The ache and desire for me to go back running and scoop him up ever present in my body, the low gutteral cry that I listened to piercing my ears.  I feel like someone just slugged me in the stomach and my heart feels too big for my chest. It hurst.  And I feel alive and in the most honest connection with my kid.  I didn't have to fix his feelings, I didn't have to overwhelm him with mine, I just listened. I am tearing as I write.  I am so glad to have the opportunity to feel these kinds of feelings.  Sons, I love you!