I'm a little worried about Tarzan. He's been really fretful and anxious lately, which is not at all like him. (Although, I need to be careful about characterizing what is "like him" because he, like the other two, is growing and changing all the time.) Ever since the sleepover-that-wasn't, he's had a little trouble sleeping without being snuggled. And when I went away with Scooby, it really intensified. He had a tummy-ache at Granny's, and "bad pictures in his head" and the next night, home with Daddy, he freaked out and cried for four hours, saying he missed Mommy. And, he wrote me this:
Which is very sweet, but breaks my heart!!! (That's Tarzan, in the blue, sitting at the kitchen table, and that's me in the red, toasting waffles.)
He says he saw a book in the library. A scary book, with a scary alien on the cover. And now, he imagines, this scary alien is going to nail him to a wall. Yeesh.
Some of it is his age, I know. Scooby went through the same thing at this age. I vividly remember my dreams of a pirate ship sailing through the Leaver's woods towards our house, bound for pillage and destruction, and I'm pretty sure I was about the same age then. So I'm trying to be patient, and wait for it to pass.
Of course, those thoughts always go through my head. You know, THOSE thoughts. About what may have happened at this sleepover? But I don't think anything did, other than his imagination slipping into another gear.
THOSE thoughts are the things that sneak into my head on a regular basis and are promptly shooshed and squashed down. "What if the school bus driver just never brings them home?" "What if some bully corners them in the school bathroom?" "What if this birthday party is all a ruse for a pedophiliac sex group?" Unfounded and without basis - and all part of the fear of letting them go, little by little. THOSE thoughts aren't allowed to gain purchase on any part of my mind. But I can't refuse them entry. Some day, they may be telling the truth.
But, this has taken a morbid turn. Tarzan is going to be fine. The alien picture will eventually fade, and new fears will take it's place. He has two birthday parties this week, a Dinosaur play in class on Friday, and a field trip next week. He'll get distracted. He'll move on. In the meantime, I'll hold him a little tighter, kiss him a little more, and read him happy stories about pirate ships. (Hey, that was my nightmare; not his.)