It was a perfect Christmas Eve. Christmas morning went splendidly as well.
I think that’s why we were all blindsided when we found poop smeared in the carpet and across the bed.
On the way to being cleaned up, Simeon told Leo he missed Cordelia.
I do too. I do not, however, smear my feces around the room.
It was disgusting. And embarrassing. And sad.
I was defensive for Simeon and felt guilty that his trauma played out in my parent’s space. Also, I’ve been dealing with his *poop* both literal and figurative for many months now. I forget how offensive, both literally and figuratively, it can be. It’s disgusting.
I fully believe that he will find healing and more appropriate ways of dealing with those big nasty feelings. But, that healing will be slow. And it requires that the adults in his life are patient and educated and kind. I am beginning to understand all of this better and I forget how foreign this parenting approach and these behaviors were to me, even a few short months ago. I need to not only have grace for my child, but also for the people in our lives who are still trying to figure this all out.
I love him so very much. I am trying very hard not to let his actions not mar the other many wonderful memories we created this weekend, but it’s not easy.
And I’m not angry. And I’m not bitter. And I’m not heart-broken. I’m just a little down that it happened at all. And frustrated that others were affected so deeply. I guess I have to fight being a little gun-shy in the future, too.