A Field Trip to a Farm

Eight months home. Two months in school.
Ivan's school had a field trip today to a local farm. The farm is set up to be a field trip destination for school groups so everything about it is perfectly catered to children. The grounds are clean and mostly flat and well manicured. The play equipment is sensory heaven. And it's all outside, there are animals on the premises, and it somehow doesn't smell like poop.
I wanted to attend just to have the experience of playing at the farm with Ivan for his first trip outside the school grounds. I wanted to see him with his school friends and teachers and aides. I wanted to watch him with the people he knows that I don't know. And honestly, I'm just greedy like that and wanted to be able to watch him enjoy the event. I like seeing my kid smile, what can I say?

Since Ivan's been home, I've been fairly strict about providing for his needs myself. I make sure I give him food. I make sure I hug him and love on him when he's needing it. I make sure I'm helping him up the steps or down the ladder or putting his shoes on. It's me. I do it. So when Ivan started school, I had to let go of an awful lot of control over where his needs were being met, and how, and by whom. But it was a removed lack of control. He was away from home, I obviously couldn't meet his needs, the teachers and aides could and let me tell you- out of sight; out of mind.

But today at the event, I was able to watch Ivan interact with his peer group. His honest peer group. Children he attends school with and feels comfortable with and who move at his pace.

I watched him jump amid a crowd of children, laughing, reaching out and touching them as they hopped past him just because he was so happy he wanted to share the moment even for just a second through physical contact. I watched a little boy bounce near him and when Ivan sat down, the boy sat beside him, and IVAN LOOKED OVER AT HIM AND MADE EYE CONTACT and then the boy reached out and touched Ivan's leg and Ivan STAYED STILL AND LET HIM.

It was precious and such a tiny moment but monumental at the same time.

I watched as one of the aides helped him up onto the bouncy thing (it was a bounce pillow?). She held him at first, climbing to the peak height of it, then bounced with him in her arms. He laughed with his entire body. When he laughs, it's joyful:  his knees pull up to his chest, his elbows tuck down to his hips and his back twists into violent S's as laughter erupts from his every pore.

She set him onto his feet and held his hands, bouncing with him, and he laughed.  He caught the perfect bounce off another person just once, tossing himself nearly his entire height into the air and I gasped as the aide with him doubled over in laughter. "You were flying!" she said and he started to fall to his bottom and bounce back to his feet.

Ivan will take off running, just to feel himself run. Just because he can. Just because he's got legs. He doesn't care where he's going or who is with him or how loudly I'm yelling his name, once he's going, he's gone.
I just let him run today. The place was packed with students from at least 3 different schools but there were open fields and it was all fenced in and the sun was shining and the breeze was blowing and I would stroll along behind him as he shot in whatever direction took his fancy. He wound up about 50 yards ahead of me at one point and I wasn't even concerned.

He went down this slide that was like 30 yards long. He had to climb three flights of stairs to get to the top. Once up there, I asked him, "Are you sure you want to slide down this?" and he plopped himself down and tossed his feet into the slide. I asked one of the teens in line with us if she minded sliding down with him ( the slide was a tunnel and I don't do enclosed spaces) so he slid and came out laughing, full bodied, twisty laughs and it was great.

I watched another aide put his shoes on after he was done jumping, once. I watched a teen help him onto the tire swing with a few other kids and gently push them.

I did an awful lot of standing back and watching.

And it was nice.

This evening, I was telling a friend about the trip and I told her:

I felt safe.

And it was something I hadn't realized until the moment I said it aloud. But I had. I had felt safe watching Ivan interact with his peers, teachers, and aides. I had felt safe letting other people do things for him that just two months ago I would have demanded of myself to do myself.

It sounds so small but I've been wiping away tears since it hit me.

I had gotten so used to constantly crisis parenting, always being afraid, setting such high expectations of myself that I'd forgotten that it isn't normal to feel that way or to live that way.

It's normal to feel safe.
It's normal to feel safe within your relationship with your child.
It's normal to feel safe watching your child interact with trusted adults.
It's normal to feel safe while letting your child play.

It is
normal
to
feel safe.

It's amazing the things you learn on a field trip to a farm.