So I’m back with more things I’m afraid to tell you.
I’m afraid to tell you that I’m worried my 3 year old will never catch up with his peers. My boy, now 3 years and 4.5 months old, does not communicate like his peers. We do not have conversations, the only questions he asks relates to whether he can have a snack, and I have no idea what goes on in his head. When a preschooler does not talk, many things become impossible, or at least, very, very difficult to do. Potty training (we’re nearly there, I hope), discipline, trying new food (if anyone knows a way to tell your child without words, how eating fruit really won’t kill him, please call me), dealing with new situations, sharing joy and achievements, making friends. His classmates at preschool can talk and have conversations. Although he IS the youngest in his class, he’s not even anywhere near a 3 year old’s proficiency. He started speech therapy 6 weeks ago, and though there is very slight improvement, he’s not where he’s supposed to be. This is killing me, and I’m sure it’s hurting him.
I’m afraid to tell you that I will always have a pooch (and I may be okay with it). I am actually really comfortable with my body. Yes, I could lose another 10 pounds, but I know my weight is normal, and I’m healthy. But some days, the leftover baby belly fat hanging over my pants, does bother me. Not being able to wear my fitted shirts anymore, bothers me a little. Just a little. Most days though, I have little desire to worry about it, so I don’t do anything about it. So in all likelihood, Winnie the Pooch will be around forever.
I’m afraid to tell you that I think I will run out of things to write about. There was a time when I would write four, sometimes, five blog posts in one sitting. These days, I come up on the day I usually publish, and I have nothing. Not a thing. I have no ideas in my head. The ones I do have, I can’t write about. I wish I could. I wish I was braver with my writing. Because I’m afraid I will stop writing.
I’m afraid to tell you that I may never get over not having a third child. We decided that we’re two and through, a few months ago. It’s not a decision we made lightly, we took all the factors that matter into consideration, and it’s something that is best for our family. But I still mourn the child that will never be.
Is there anything you’re afraid to tell anyone?