Mother's Day - Yet Again...

So Mother's Day reared its head again this week and I really wasn't sure how I was going to take it.

It's the first Mother's Day since we lost my mum and so I always knew it was going to be difficult - which meant I was prepared - or so I thought.

It was also going to be difficult for the boys and for school.

After a couple of dodgy decisions made by school in past years, including the pink handbag card with stuck on flowers that TJ was so upset he had to give to me, it had been agreed that the boys would make cards and gifts from Granny. You can relive that experience here:

http://4relativestrangers.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/happy-gay-dads-day.html#.VuSI5Tarx_U

Only, of course, this year that wasn't going to be possible.

TJ still hasn't really grieved for his grandmother, whom he adored, and that still worries me - I thought this could be the day that he finally cracks.

He didn't.

In fact, I don't know if either boy made a card this year, for anyone. I didn't receive anything. I asked Dylan if they were trying not to upset me. His reply, 'They haven't even mentioned it."

Suddenly the avoidance of Mother's Day was just as upsetting as the inappropriate ways it had been marked before.

So Mothering Sunday was treated as any other Sunday - we had our roast dinner, we walked the dogs - everyone was very careful around me.

The next day before school KC came down to breakfast holding a box. In it was a stone painted as a ladybird. "It's for you,' KC said, "I didn't want to give it you yesterday as I thought it would upset you."

It was so sweet of him. I put it into the cabinet with all the other precious things he has given me - on display for all to see.

We went to school.

And it was Monday that I found difficult - everyone talking about their own weekend, most people chatting about their day spent with their mum's,  some people even moaning that they had to travel to see their mum. I smiled and nodded and told everyone I had a quiet day.

I thought that if I was struggling then the chances were the boys may be too.

I wasn't wrong.

TJ had a difficult day. By lunch he was sitting in the corner of the classroom crying. I was called to go and see him. He and I sat there holding hands as he cried. I didn't have to ask him why he was upset. We both knew.

Eventually he calmed down. He didn't want to go back into the school dining room though - he wasn't hungry. I told him that he couldn't go back to school hungry and I had to teach that afternoon, but I would sit with him while he ate - he liked that.

So the two of us sat in the canteen together - I didn't go to the teacher's table, or skip the queue (as teachers are allowed). We sat and ate. We didn't talk. We didn't need to.

Afterwards he got up and went back to class.

When I collected him at the end of the day - the barriers were back up. The incident at lunch wasn't referred to - in fact, as far as he was concerned, it hadn't happened. He told me he was upset because he lost at football. I nodded knowingly.

His teacher is concerned for him. So am I. I think that even though the grieving process is tough for us all, for children who have had a string of losses, be it birth mum, foster carers etc that death can have an even stronger effect. Maybe its time for him to talk about his own sense of loss, in a child friendly way.

So it's back to post adoption therapy - this time for TJ. We know how successful it was for KC so now maybe TJ is ready to talk - maybe not - but we need to try.

On another note I went to KC's parent-teacher evening and... it was amazing! He was a different child - gone was the unhappy, angry little boy from last year - the child who hated school, life - everything. Now he was making good progress and was not only prepared to enter senior school but would, in his teacher's opinion, thrive and excel.

My mum chose this school for him.

Mum was right.

I only wish I could tell her...

But then again, I tell her everything, every day - just like I used to.