Dear sweet boy-
You came out of bed tonight and told me you were having trouble turning off your brain. I know that, your father knows that and your therapist knows that- I just didn’t realize you knew that. I didn’t realize you had the words to express that.
It’s not anxiety- you aren’t particularly nervous about anything- you just can’t quiet your brain. You wanted to talk about your itchy eyes, your allergies, your book report. You wanted to know how long it would be to get to Mimi’s house on Friday and what we’d do there. You wanted to know when the snow would melt (again) and if the snakes in the creek would be OK. All those questions, all those thoughts- all fired at me within 2 minutes.
You’re good natured about it all and you take my exasperated answers in stride. When I finally cut off your stream of questions, you don’t protest. You give me one more hug and a kiss and you go back to bed with the promise that I’ll check on you in 5 minutes. Most night you’re asleep within that time frame, but sometimes it’s not that easy to stop the flow of thoughts tumbling around from your brain to your lips.
I wonder what it’s like to live in your brain. I’d imagine it’s amazing with everything firing all at once. I wonder why it’s bedtime that all these thoughts come to the surface. I used to think you were stalling but now I think it’s just because it’s the only time you’re ever still.
Keep asking all your crazy questions, sweet boy- just try to ask them all before 8 pm. I promise you’ll get better answers out of me then.