“The range of what we think and do is limited by what we fail to notice. And because we fail to notice that we fail to notice there is nothing we can do to change until we notice how failing to notice shapes our thoughts and deeds.”
I did something really dumb with Robotson two weeks ago. The short story is that I was feeling frustrated with the lack of commitment to learning and conflict resolutions. I felt like I was holding up my end of the bargain and getting nothing but grief in return. This had actually been going on for a few weeks prior. I wasn't staying mindful of what matters (again.) In an especially difficult moment, I made a statement that I would need to discuss the future of homeschooling in our house, with B. I didn't mean it to be a threat. I didn't even really mean it in my heart. I was just so tired of arguing. Looking back now, I can see just how far off track I had gotten, but in the moment it made sense. I never did really talk to B. I just tried to refocus myself and move on.
That's where I made the mistake. I never sat down with Robotson and apologized for losing my temper. I never explained to him that I am committed to homeschooling. I never told him that he didn't have to worry. So he worried.
He worried so much that he began to make himself sick. I didn't realize he was having so much anxiety because I wasn't in tune with him. He'd say he felt sick whenever we left the house, but I thought it was because he wanted to go home and use the computer. It was four days before I figured it out. Four days. He said he was sick at the park. The whole way home I tried to figure out what could be on his mind, and it wasn't until we pulled into the driveway that it dawned on me. It was because I'd never told him that going to public school wasn't ever going to happen.
After that, we talked about it and he said he felt better. The overall anxiety has gone away, but there are still some residual effects. B was going to take him to Homeschool Day at Six Flags and he got upset and scared all of a sudden. This is a kid who loves roller coasters. This day is one he looks forward to every single year, but he was so upset that it took me 45 minutes to calm him down enough to give it a try.
I really messed up, but it spurred me to be even more vigilant in my mindfulness. I feel like I've moved forward a little more since learning this lesson.