I had a great therapy session last night. What? You weren't aware that I was in therapy to begin with? (and no I am totally NOT crazy, thanks for thinking that loud enough so I could hear you!)
I'm not in therapy. My son is. And he has been for a couple of years now. He is there because I want him there. I think it's good for him. The therapist was ready to just let him go ... but saw the anguish in my eyes and I guess took pity on me. I think the therapist realizes that I am using him ... to help me, in how I raise my son. I take all those bumps in the road that we have directly to him ... to dissect ... to analyze. And he does that with my son. I see it as a two fold benefit. One, I get to say out loud what I'm afraid of happening or what my concerns are ... and Two, my son gets to hear for himself what I am thinking. Then we both hear the therapist's view.
I really like it. This last session was no exception either. We haven't been all summer and with the whole 8th Grade Graduation "incident" and the Music Night incident (I don't think I wrote about that one, but pretty much the same thing happened as the graduation, only it was his dad's band playing) I need some perspective dammit.
What it comes down to ... is that isn't all about me (What???? Someone didn't get the memo, it is always about ME!). And that 14-16 year old boys are trying to separate themselves from their family and it comes out in different ways. So pretty much if he makes a big stink and we want him to go with us to do something he considers boring, HE GOES WITH US. And don't give in to any tantrum he has. And if it is reasonably okay for him to be excused or he can bring something that allows him to tune out, that is okay too.
See? Problem solved.
Now I just need a pocket sized version of the therapist to consult with at any time and I think my life will go much smoother. Yes?