This was, by far, the roughest week to date in our little home. It came to a head last night in an explosive display of rage by LittleBuddy... the likes I have never seen. On top of Daddy being out of town for work (one authority figure gone), Friday was the last day of school. Saying goodbye is overwhelming and it's mighty clear LB doesn't handle change well. Can you blame him? He has moved, changed schools, had to make new friends and deal with living in a home with rules. He has had to adjust to more than most of us adults could handle. And it's not the first time he's had to endure this.
In his words: "I'm all jumbled up inside.."
Once the anger finally passed (hours later), he curled up in my arms and sobbed uncontrollably for nearly a half hour. He cried that no one wanted him. I have to say, it took everything in me to not burst into tears myself. By the grace of God I was able to keep it together and softly reassure him how much we all love him and his sister.
We rocked and waited out the storm.
Thanks to a biofamily member that has nothing more than DNA in common with the kids (read: they don't know this person from Adam) we're still at a place where LB can't be told where his final living place will be. He can't even start moving forward in the healing process and everyone on the case is livid. We had a court date set and now I'm told it has been postponed.
It's the epitome of selfish.
For now we work on LB one day (hour, minute) at a time. All the grief, anger, loss, trauma, neglect and abuse. When each horrific storm cloud passes, the sun shines through and I feel another bit of the weight is lifted. Not completely but some is better than nothing.
Jumbled stuff be gone.