Today was one of those days were all hell broke loose right around 5 pm. Simon fell at daycare and was bleeding enough that stitches might be in order. Stella and Sarah were to be at their trauma assessment at 6:30 and I couldn't reach Hubby to switch who was picking up which kids. (I was originally headed to the therapist office and he was getting the other two. Generally, I handle everything medical.)
But when Hubby did pick up his phone he volunteered to handle the ER visit. I arrived at daycare to check on Simon and was told that he didn't cry. And that's when the trauma stuff hit me square in the face. A six year old falling on concrete and breaking his glasses which cut his face, should induce some tears.
I then sat in on the initial get to know you session with the therapists and heard Stella very clearly tell the therapists that she doesn't feel she has anyone to ask for help and if she woke up in the middle of the night because she was scared she would just lay awake. It broke my heart. Meanwhile, Sarah had the biggest case of the Sillys I've ever seen. The car ride home was exhausting with the nonsense questions. They were amped.
We walked in to find Simon excited about his matching bandage and Smiley in bed early due to a tantrum. I found her wide awake and upset and sad. So I gathered her into my arms and rocked her to sleep. For the first ten minutes she wouldn't close her eyes. She just stared into my face. When she did close them and nestled into my chest she fell asleep in less than a minute.
My heart breaks for these kids. They have all these feelings and no way to express them. They have to do so much work and that makes me angry. I am grateful we will be able to get them the help they need but the process is going to be painful.