Small Triggers

This morning in Health class, my son got to sit in the classroom and glance awkwardly around, trying to avoid eye contact while all the other students were busy raising their hands.

This morning in Health class, my son's teacher attempted to teach her students about, I presume, relationships and attaching, and she illustrated her point by asking who remembered their mother giving them a blanket when they were little, or tucking them in, or snuggling with them.

This afternoon in my home, we had an episode. The episode began with balking when asked to do chores. The episode involved a state trooper. The episode ended with a very out-of-sorts boy spending most of the evening sitting on the floor with his head in my lap, barely able to function.

Small triggers open big wounds.

We'll keep trying to stitch them back up.






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