Silent Tsunami

October is usually my second favorite month of the year. I love the changing of the seasons, the introduction of all things pumpkin to every menu, dressing up in costumes and watching my kids enjoying the excitement of Halloween.

We spent time at the Union Square Greenmarket a couple of weeks ago, gathering our gourd and vegetable bounty and playing at Evelyn’s playground. Just me and them.

These times are dwindling when it is just the three of us, yet I can’t seem to grasp on to each one long enough.

We’ve been busier than ever before. Our lives are so full with Dental School, preschool and my various projects that the days are flying by rapidly. At night, after the kids and Justin have gone to bed and it’s just me and the glow of my laptop, is when I can really just sit and bond with this new little soul we’re going to meet soon.

I’m already getting emotional about the precious time spent with my two little sidekicks before our world changes and we are no longer a party of 4, but a family of 5.

We are all really excited to meet the new baby. Zoe still carries on regular conversations with my belly and Jack thinks of something new every day that he wants to teach his little brother. The nursery is nearly finished, his crib is built and there’s a perfectly cleaned bassinet waiting to rock his sweet little self to sleep right next to my side of the bed.

While this is our third child and we feel as though we’ve prepared as best as we know how (and honestly better than the first two), our eldest seems as though he isn’t handling the impending changes very well, and is showing it behavior that we haven’t seen from him before.

Jack recently tested for and ultimately qualified to receive speech and “play” therapy sessions four times a week. We were concerned that his confidence was being affected by his awareness surrounding his delay. While we weren’t entirely sure how the play therapy would help-he’s perfectly fine in social situations-we agreed and someone has been coming to our apartment twice a week to play games with him one-on-one.

Since the beginning of the sessions, Jack’s behavior at home has gotten almost completely unmanageable. He’s frustrated and struggling for attention and power in nearly every single situation, and it’s left his father and I at a complete loss as to how to help him.

These days have left me feeling like every day I’m up in front of the class facing the chalkboard, chalk in hand, waiting for the right answer to come to me. Every ounce of me is begging for a revelation so that I’m not left standing there in front of everyone waiting for me to come up with the right answer. Yet it never comes.

Just when I think I’ve got this parenting gig all figured out, out comes a curve ball from left field to remind me that this life is about constant education. I am incredibly blessed to have a very bright, very sensitive and aware little boy that needs me desperately to help him find comfort and confidence within himself. I wish with everything I am that I knew how to help him, and that giant void is wreaking havoc on my mental state. It feels like the elements are combining into one giant force, like the rise of a silent tsunami.

I do believe that this is a phase. The water will recede and I know that we’ll make it out on the other side unscathed and proud that we landed yet another hurdle of growing pains. However, trying to prepare for a new child on top of this is a bit more overwhelming that I was emotionally prepared for.

Amidst all of the chaos, I’ve tried to focus on the still and beauty within the spinning carousal. And of that there is much.

Pretty soon, there will be an entirely new reason to stop and focus on the preciousness of the immediate… Our little baby blessing arriving in a little more than a month.