Navigating this inbetween time of not-a-little-boy and not-a-teenager (the tween years) is interesting, to say the least. It is as if my son is in a constant state of Double Dutch where one foot is in a grown-up world, and the other hops back to the magic and innocence of childhood. I see him testing the waters of both sides and never really feeling perfectly comfortable in either anymore. As a mom, it’s hard to watch, because I see the inner turmoil but feel helpless to still the churning in him.
So, I’m actively trying to be more rooted for him. Predictable. Routinely more emotionally available for him. Thankfully this season of homestead life allows for that. He knows he’ll find me in the kitchen over a pot of simmering tomatoes, or in my rocker knitting away.
In Waldorf education we rely on rhythms — breathing in (a calming, nourishing rest period) and breathing out (an energetic time of play and physical work)— to bring comfort and stability and balance to children’s’ lives. But I’m learning that rhythm isn’t just beneficial for little ones, but for a lifetime.
All I can do is try my best to remain a touchstone; an anchor for him to grab on to when he needs some rest on his outward adventures of simply becoming.