I don’t care much for January, but you guys, this January has been rad. Allow me to explain.
After throwing daily tantrums or silent/Ghandi-esque protests about going to school for six months, Truman up and decided to stop doing that and to instead walk into school like the warrior man he is.
I mean, granted I did have to bribe him with a mythical-sounding 100 MINUTES! of unfettered video gaming after school that day, and I did need to flag down our neighbor, Will, who happened to be walking past our car at dropoff, and I did happen to beg Will to walk in with Truman, and I definitely did vehemently remind Truman about that 100 MINUTES! But the upshot is, Truman did it. For the first time ever, I didn’t have to drag him into first grade in my bedhead and my sweatpants.
When I picked him up that afternoon, he told me, “I’m not scared anymore, Mom.” And also, “I’m ready to go home and have my 100 minutes! of video games.” Hahaha.
Sometimes parenting is slogging through 10,000 miles of frozen/muddy tundra while dragging a belligerent kid along. Occasionally, parenting is a ride at Disneyland–all speed and exhilaration and happiness. And the rare Disneyland rides are that much sweeter because of those 10,000 figurative miles on foot through the frozen north.
I can’t adequately describe my lightness of being at this development.
Around the same time as the school-autonomy breakthrough, Truman also managed to begin staying at church the entire time. For the sake of context, I will simply say that this has been an impossibility for all of Truman’s seven years, plus most of the years Jack lived with us. I’m not asking for pity (nor judgment). This is just how Sundays have been for us. For, like, ever.
But between us learning about how to manage and respond to his sensory processing disorder, and shorter church (the church is true, the book is blue), and Truman deciding he isn’t scared anymore, we are now in the midst of a sea-change, and it’s glorious.
Finally, to complete Truman’s trifecta of amazingness, he decided to stop fighting us at bedtime and just go to bed every night like a docile little sweetheart lamb. Why? I don’t know. How? I really can’t say. But please note that I’m over here giving major thanks for all of this blessed progress.
These developments are undoubtedly related to each other, as they emerged at the same time. They seem to have resulted from Truman turning some developmental corner. Are these positive changes simply the result of time and the river (of parenting) flowing?
Or, I’ve been asking myself, are they somehow connected to the way I have spent my January, which has been to fling myself into devotion and spirituality. Correlation, yes definitely. But causation? I have no idea. Am I being weird in feeling that my attending the temple once every 5-7 days and thus entering a state of deeply instructive openness to spiritual things may have some relationship to Truman’s progress?
My own personal January breakthroughs have been wrapped up in an intense state of inner instruction, which has been my winter camp. The temple has been one major avenue of my own deepening spirituality. The other paths have involved praying to understand and refine my spiritual gifts, writing down any sudden or recurring dreams and impressions, and delving wholeheartedly into scripture.
None of this is groundbreaking. The change is in my enthusiasm for it.
I’m eager to learn.
I think my Heavenly Parents know it, because they’ve responded with SO MUCH INSIGHT.
I hope this all doesn’t sound self-congratulatory. I don’t know why I’m hungering so deeply for more understanding at this point in time. And I don’t know why I’m receiving an outpouring of spiritual instruction, other than I’m asking for it.
The miracle is that my Heavenly Parents are giving it to me.
Maybe there is no connection between my bare-naked cannonball into the figurative pool of spiritual growth, and Truman’s propulsion into greater independence, other than the fact that I feel strongly that they both originate from heaven, and are both real proof of divine love.