How hard it is for you to anticipate something fun ALL DAY, so that when it finally arrives, your flexibility is all wrung out. You end up expending so much energy in the anticipating, in feeling how hard it is to wait, in envisioning what you’ll play and how it will go. All that intense focus keeps you wiggly, so that you spend a lot of the day lounging around with your thumb and blanket, and other times have trouble deciding what to do and can’t easily get absorbed in play.
It doesn’t help that I had a lot of work to do to prepare, and so wasn’t as available to you as I would be on an ordinary Saturday. I bet some pillow-fighting and chasing and such could have helped you unload some of the tension you were carrying.
I’m glad we had some special time and a story during some of the waiting time. And we made a few little connections in the evening, when I noticed you having a hard time — when you were upset because the little girl didn’t want to play what you chose, or when you wanted to participate in the dinner conversation but people weren’t talking about what you wanted to talk about. I’m glad I was in a frame of mind to be compassionate instead of annoyed with these moments — I know sometimes that’s not the case.
I can’t protect you from all the difficulties of life. I can’t prevent all your inner storms. That’s not what you really need anyway. I can, and will, be there for you in those times, as best I can, and am so glad that I’ve been able to learn, and keep learning, about better ways to do so, to support you in this work of yours.
Sleep well, little one.