Monday, April 30, 2007
There was something about the way Baxter behaved tonight that seemed just a little off-kilter. The strange energy at the table, the inability to quiet himself when asked repeatedly, until Matt actually gave the child's dinner roll a time out for flying across the table multiple times. At least that got us all laughing. I knew that either a) he needed to use the bathroom desperately; or b) something had gone wrong today.
Having observed no race to the bathroom after dinner, I suggested we have a little cuddle time downstairs after he brushed his teeth. Sure enough, the tears were soon flowing; a dam had burst.
The long and the short of it was that a friend who was supposed to be on the "good team" with him at recess must have switched to the "bad team" without telling him, because out of the blue he "sucked all of [Baxter's] powers away". I know my son, and I could tell by the sobbing that this had frightened him. He felt betrayed, and as I think about it now, I realize this may be his first time being aware of that particular sensation. He cried for a long time.
After a while, seeing how tired the boy was, I suggested he try to get into bed. "I want to sleep with Lyle," he said, sniffling. I sent him in to ask Lyle if that was okay. "Sure!" replied the little one, who promptly moved over to let his big brother into the bunk. In a heartbreakingly sweet role reversal, Baxter, still crying, snuggled in under the covers with Lyle, and Lyle held him close. "I rub your back, Baxter. Then you feel better." He rubbed his back and petted his hair, and his shuddering big brother settled down. A while later I heard him ask, "Are you feeling better, Baxter? Are you not cyin' anymoah?" and Baxter replied, "Yeah, I'm okay now."