On Grieving and Being Brave

I am grieving.  The easier part of parenting.  The feed and water part.  The cuddle and change part.  The play and negotiate part.  Although feeding, changing and negotiating have never actually been very easy in our house anyway.

But this is different.  Decisions.  Real, non-hearth and home decisions.  I don’t know how to send my girl out into the world.  I really don’t.  With every ounce of my being I don’t.  I think coming to the realization that she isn’t quite like most of the kids that I see on a day to day basis.  That the world is a little harder for her to take on, take in and deal with.  Just the way that food is hard for her to eat and clothes aren’t comfortable and sleep only comes after long struggles and hours of trying .  And the way transition sends her into a full tailspin each and every time, even after five and a half years.

I just wonder how it is all going to go down.  If the anxiety of not being with me or her dad will keep her in suspension the entire day if she were away from us.  If holding it together all day long will create even more anxiety, more tension in the evening hours when it’s already hard enough to face dinner and bedtime.

All I want for her is for this life to be easy and fun.  But it already seems to be a struggle and it’s breaking my heart with every breathe I take, each and every moment of the day.

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