Done Adulting Vol. 1 Ch. 55

“How was your day?”

“What?!” When they were up front, Jamie could never hear Becky or Amanda well from his carseat.

“HOW WAS YOUR DAY?”

Jamie wondered what the right response was: to include the part about his mini-meltdown or not. He appreciated that what happened at daycare stayed at daycare, so far as knew, though he wondered just how far that maxim went.

“Better.”

“Yeah?” That was the word Becky was hoping and not expecting to hear. “Tell me more!”

“Can we wait until we get home? I can’t hear you.” He considered what he had to say though, and thinking back on the day, he was feeling ashamed of himself. Whether he would have actually gotten physical with Jean, he wasn’t sure, but that he was on the cusp of losing control of himself he knew to be true. Ella had it right: a flood of negative emotions he didn’t understand and couldn’t control about to come out as one messy explosion. He hadn’t done that in many years.

Once they were inside, Jamie handed his mom the backpack he’d taken with him that morning. “It has some dirty clothes in it.” Jamie didn’t like handing her a chore to do. He was enough of one already, and though he was becoming more comfortable asking for and accepting things, he wished he could at least do certain chores himself, like his own laundry. He had thought with a step ladder he could at least do his wash, only to see while being carried on Amanda’s hip that it was so wide he wouldn’t be able to reach the controls. “Sorry.”

“For what,” Becky smiled. “Laundry? Do you want a snack or something?” That hardly helped. Another chore for her to do for him.

“Maybe later.”

Becky tried to read his expression and all that came back was he was sad or disappointed or unhappy about something. Of course, that was his expression much of the time, particularly if he was alone. She wasn’t going to force him to say what was bothering him, but she’d try to coax it out. But first, “I’m going to go get the basket from upstairs and start a load.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Just one of my jobs, kiddo.”

Jamie actually was hungry as well as thirsty. He just didn’t want to ask. He went into the kitchen and evaluated his options. He could open the fridge, but unless he wanted condiments from the door or a giant radish from the crisper, he’d need to stand on something to reach actual food. The same was true for the cabinets about the counter. He’d need to stand on the counter, and to get there he’d need to stand on something else. He wasn’t even sure what was in which cabinet. It hadn’t been something he’d needed to learn yet.

Jamie pushed his chair over to the counter, which left him still too short to climb up without planting his forearms first, then a knee, and then being able to pivot up and to his feet. He went to the cabinet he was pretty sure the cookies were in, and opening it, he could only see what was on the first shelf: no cookies. He could pull himself up to see, but he wasn’t sure if the cabinet would support his weight. Instead, he reached his hand up to the second shelf and felt around. Can. Can. Another can. Box. Box. Bag. More cans. Bingo: something that felt like a tray of cookies.

Jamie pulled it out of the cabinet and picked out his prize. A lot of work for a cookie, but worth it. He read the ingredient list on the package, and other than noticing how much sugar was in them, he couldn’t decipher the chemicals in the list. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. A drug? Jamie was sure, though, that whatever it was that made them taste, and not just taste but feel, so good was exactly what Huey Lewis was singing about when he said he wanted a new drug. If I ever go back, Jamie thought, I could become a billionaire selling this stuff.

Jamie knew the glasses were in the cabinet next to the sink, but on the other side of the sink, and he didn’t want to step into it, fearing it he’d break something. Fortunately, it was a double sink, and he was able to step on the divider between them to get to the cabinet. His cups were on the lower shelf; none of theirs were practical for him. Looking at the faucet, Jamie decided the best way to fill his cup was to cross back over and sit on the counter to turn the faucet on. The cabinets were too close to the sink for him to bend over. With his cup of water, he went back to where this had all started.

He wished the chair was bigger. Climbing down is harder than climbing up, and now the chair seemed unstable. Considering the effort that went into a cookie and glass of water, it occurred to Jamie that this was too much work and that sometimes asking isn’t so bad. Frustrating though. Even though neither had ever told him no when he asked for something to eat or drink, he didn’t want to ask because control over what he put in his body and when seemed elemental to his autonomy even if he had given some of it up. But more, he just didn’t like always having to ask for help, being a bother.

Jamie put his cup down and turned around to climb down backward onto the chair so he could keep his hands on the counter. He then picked up his glass of water, and before he could start to step down from the chair, and Becky picked up him. Sonuvabitch, Jamie said to himself, how the fuck are they so quiet?

“Teachable moment: what did you do wrong here,” Becky said in a calm but business-like tone of voice.

Now facing Becky, Jamie decided to take a drink first. Becky took the glass from his hand and set it on the counter. “Well,” he began, “I guess climbing on the counter was a bad plan.” He couldn’t help but find it amusing. Not even a bad plan, not really; more of a mediocre one.

“It’s not funny, James Patrick. You could have gotten very badly hurt. It’s high up, and counter tops can be slippery. Think about that.”

“You’re right,” Jamie said. He meant it; he hadn’t considered it might be wet up there. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you know I’m right because you already knew better than to climb on the counter because you’re very smart.” She gave him a kiss. “But I want you to remember to make good choices, especially when it comes to your own safety. You wouldn’t just have hurt yourself but everyone who cares about you. A little consequence will help you remember.” She started carrying him into the living room.

What she said had Jamie’s head spinning. Jamie hadn’t really gotten in trouble yet beyond a lecture, and he’d just gotten that. What was she going to do to him? She seemed bigger all of a sudden, and he seemed smaller, and Jamie remembered one of his first conscious thoughts in Itali: you are not in control of this environment.

She reached a corner and set him on his feet. She hadn’t spoken harshly, just firmly. “This is your naughty spot; we haven’t had to use it until now. You’re in timeout until I come get you. Nose in the corner, buster.” Becky left the room.

Jamie’s relief that she hadn’t done anything physical to him lasted about fifteen seconds before he was just bored. If he had been asked fiteen seconds ago whether timeout was an effective deterrent for an unregressed little, he’d have said of course not. Now all he saw were two light grey walls to either side of him, but it wasn’t even the lack of stimulation that was nagging at him now. It was the further loss of autonomy, even beyond the amount he’d given up just by being there; it was the not knowing how long he’d be in the corner; it was that he couldn’t leave. These thoughts were making time stretch out impossibly far. I should have protested, Jamie thought, at least said something for myself, told her I’d remember and didn’t need a consequence like toddler. So why didn’t I? Maybe because she has a point?

Jamie knew it wasn’t very safe to climb onto a counter almost seven feet off a tile floor and walk across a smooth and possibly wet surface. The sink hopping, which she fortunately hadn’t seen, was even less safe. He knew he could have hurt himself. That by hurting himself he would have hurt Becky hadn’t occurred to him. And now that he thought on it, if he had hurt himself, he’d have created even more work for Becky taking care of him, the very thing he was trying to avoid.

So what motivated me, Jamie questioned. She’s never says no when I ask for a snack, so I wasn’t trying to get away with something. Did I really just want that badly to not ask for help? And what is so wrong with asking for help? Well, you start to feel useless after a while, and a burden. But they asked for a little specifically knowing it came with things like this. Still, he didn’t like the way asking felt. He didn’t like being a burden, and he'd felt that way almost his entire time in foster care and the group home. He was often made to feel that way, and sometimes he got in trouble when he asked for things. Even when he was asked what he wanted, he was often uncomfortable saying and tried to demur, to say he was fine with whatever the person asking wanted.

The front door opened, and Jamie’s ears turned red. And I thought timeout was embarrassing before. I wonder what would happen if I just walked away. Probably nothing good.

Amanda saw him but didn’t greet him. She knew the corner time rules: no talking from the corner, no talking to person in the corner, no turning around. That he didn’t turn around told her he knew the timeout rules well even after what must’ve been so many years since his last one, and that he didn’t even peek behind him when she came in made her suspect he must’ve been conditioned well to follow the rules even at his age. The thought made her uneasy, and she didn’t know why. If for some strange reason she ever again found herself doing corner time, she was pretty sure she would turn around when someone came in. She found her mom upstairs looking at her next day’s lesson plan. “What did Jamie do?”

“Is he still in the corner? I caught him standing on the counter.”

“He’s still there. Didn’t even turn around when I came in, but his ears blushed. Why would he get on the counter?”

“He probably thought he was doing me a favor by not asking me to get something for him.”

Amanda nodded. “Guess that’s sweet of him.”

Becky looked up from her planning. “You think I’m being too harsh?”

Amanda’s face expressed her approval as she said, “O, no. That was totally stupid of him. He’s smart enough to know better.” Any unregressed adult human was smart enough to know better.

“Well, it’s been long enough. Guess it’s time to let him out. Gonna have a little chat with him; wanna come?”

“Do you think that will undermine you?”

“No, I think it will show we’re a united front.”

Well, Amanda thought, at least on this.

They went to the living room, and Amanda and Becky sat on the couch. “Jamie, you can come out now.” Jamie sighed and turned around. He was feeling guilty and stupid and feelings he couldn’t quite name and didn’t want to face either of them. “C’mere; let’s talk a little more.” Jamie dutifully walked over, and Becky picked him up and put him in her lap so he could see both of them.

“Will you ever climb up on the counter again?” She sounded very sober.

“No. I know it’s unsafe.”

“So why did you,” she asked, her voice softening. “I’d just asked if you wanted a snack, and you said no.”

Jamie blushed. Deliberately disobeying would have been more dignified than admitting the truth. “I didn’t want to ask.”

“But I offered.”

“I know, but … I don’t like feeling like a burden.”

“Have I done something to make you feel that way?” She needed an honest answer. She certainly had never done that intentionally. She disliked even the notion of her little ever feeling like a burden.

“No.”

“Why would you feel that way?”

“Because you’re always doing stuff for me. I feel … like I don’t contribute anything.”

“O, baby boy, you contribute exactly what you’re supposed to. I wanted you, not someone to do the chores. Don’t you know that?”

“Well, yeah, but …”

“And you do contribute. Taking care of you gives me so much joy, just like holding you and talking to you bring me so much joy.”

“I just don’t like being a trouble,” he mumbled.

“You are never, ever a trouble.” Jamie didn’t respond. “What would be a trouble and would break my heart is if you ever got hurt. I couldn’t stand that, and neither could Amanda.” Amanda leaned in and smiled, just being a friendly presence to tell him what Mom said was true.

The thought of Becky and Amanda sad because of him being hurt not only made Jamie feel guilty; it hurt to imagine them that way, over anything. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

“I know you are. And you had a little reminder timeout. And now it’s over. We love you no matter what, you have no reason to ever feel like a burden or a trouble to us. You are just the very opposite.” She pulled him into a hug which he didn’t fully return. He sat back down in her lap when she was done. “Any time you have a feeling like that, you can tell us, and we’ll figure it out together.”

He still looked troubled and unhappy. “Jamie, is something else bothering you,” Amanda asked. She knew Jamie’s looks better than he did.

Jamie looked at his lap. He didn’t want to say it looking into her face, or her into his. “I … I almost threw a tantrum at daycare.”

What a pathetic face for an ‘almost,’Amanda thought. “Do you want to tell us what happened?” Jamie recounted the story.

“I don’t even know why I got so upset. And angry. I just ... I got so … I don’t know. So fed up, I guess.”

Becky interjected. “Wait, so you got upset, and you gave Jean a dirty look and were about to say something or maybe do something, and that’s when April stepped in?”

“Yeah.”

And he’s this upset with himself over that, Becky wondered. “Honey, we all get angry sometimes, and sometimes we don’t even know why.”

“I don’t. At least, not very often … Mom, I was about to lose control.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I might have.”

“But you didn’t. That’s a success to me. And when you did get upset, you handled it in a very positive way. If Jean hadn’t gotten in your way, it wouldn’t even have been a thing, right?”

“Still,” Jamie moaned in shame, “I don’t want to be that person.”

That was more than Becky could objectively take. “O, my Jamie,” she said, bringing him to her shoulder, “One bad mood doesn’t make you ‘that person.’ You are such a sweet and kind boy.” Jamie wasn’t so sure. The line between the thought of a bad deed and the act of a bad deed was blurry in his mind; to Jamie, the former was itself a bad deed, even if a lesser one.

It was clear Jamie didn’t have anything else to say, and Becky just rubbed his back. She knew couldn’t make him feel any better just them, but she could rub his back and try to distract him from those feelings for a little while. “Tell you what, how about we go out to dinner tonight. A little treat. After we go change your pants.”

At dinner, Amanda was able to pry out of Jamie the good parts of the day. They, too, wondered why Diane hadn’t mentioned having another unregressed little in her daycare and why the other teachers would tiptoe around her. Jamie wanted to try to get answers to both of those questions the next day.

Amanda got Jamie ready for bed that evening. She didn’t feel she had done much to help that day, taking a backseat to her mom. That was appropriate, but she still wanted to make sure Jamie understood everything Becky had said, Amanda felt also. She laid him down, and Jamie wrapped his arm around his bear for a pillow. Amanda sat on the edge of the crib and ran her fingers up and down his back. It felt just as good as the first time she’d done it not long after he’d arrived. He shuddered each time her soft, light fingers kissed the small of his back.

“Long day, huh, buddy?” He just sighed. “Are you feeling okay about everything?” He didn’t say. Amanda stopped rubbing his back and knelt down so her face was level with his, though he was looking the other way. “You can tell me anything, always, Jamie. In fact,” she said lightly, “I’m gonna have to insist you do, and you can’t fool me into thinking everything’s okay. Ever since you got here, you’ve gotten kinda terrible at hiding your emotions from me.”

Jamie didn’t turn over. It wasn’t the memory of the afternoon, but the memories the afternoon had stirred that were bothering him now that the day was over and there was nothing but the dusk-darkened light of his bedroom to distract his attention. He took a deep breath and let it out. “When … when Mom said … that she was gonna … punish me, and carried me into the living room, to put me in timeout, it … it scared me.” Jamie whimpered and choked on a memory from long ago.

It wasn’t just upsetting for Amanda to hear. It was alarming. Her hand stopped moving, and she recognized what he feared for the very big deal it was. The kind of big deal that had to be dealt with right then. She scooped him up onto her shoulder, grabbing his bear when he let it go.

Jamie didn’t physically resist, but he protested. “No … Manda, I don’t want her to know. Please?”

“I’m sorry, baby, but I have to.” She carried Jamie up to their mom’s bedroom. She was on her bed with a book now, her lesson plans set aside.

“Hey, Mom,” Amanda whispered. Jamie was silently crying on her shoulder. She sat down on the bed next to Mom. “Jamie just told me something …”

“Manda, I don’t want to.” He sniffled, his breath catching now.

“It’s okay,” she cooed. “Jamie told me that today, when you were carrying him to the living room to put him in timeout, that you scared him.” Jamie couldn’t hold it back. He broke down one sob at a time, silent and with big tears.

Becky hid the horrified look on her face, not wanting Jamie or Amanda to see how distressed she was, afraid they might feed off it and feel even worse. She tried to look merely deeply upset and concerned and apologetic. She held out her arms, as Amanda expected her to, and she took him. He rested his head over her shoulder, and she rested her cheek on him, holding him tight but not too tight.

Becky thought back on the afternoon. She hadn’t raised her voice or moved quickly or done anything she thought might be alarming, but she felt like a monster anyway. Or at least an inconsiderate big who didn’t think how her size and words alone could frighten a little so. The thought that he was afraid of her, even for a second, and that she had caused it, made her sick to her stomach.

“Jamie,” she said through her own silent tears while Amanda now rubbed her back, “I will never, ever, ever hit you. Do you hear me? I will never do that to you ever.” She spoked slowly and deliberately, and it wasn’t clear whether he heard. “We don’t do that in our house. There’s nothing you could ever do to make me or Amanda ever hit you. I promise on my life, Jamie. Do you understand?”

Jamie replied with a yes muffled by the lump in his throat and Becky’s t-shirt. Becky moved on to apologizing for making him feel that way, saying sorry every way she knew how. She gently rocked him and herself as well. What an awful feeling, making someone afraid, and how much worse that it was someone she loved so very much.

Becky readjusted Jamie and then reclined back against her pillows, rubbing his back even though they’d both stopped crying. Amanda, too, was upset to think on how Jamie had felt and to imagine how her mom must’ve felt and watching the tender but so sad scene of them crying on one another’s shoulders. She left and returned with a wet washcloth, which Becky used to clean Jamie’s face and let him blow his nose before she used the other side to wipe her own dried tears away. Amanda got up to leave them alone.

“Why not stay with us, Manda?” Her mom had never called her by Jamie’s nickname for her. She laid back next to her mom, put her cheek on her shoulder, and her arm over Jamie. She hadn’t lain that close to her mom in a long time. You don’t outgrow how it feels to snuggle with your mom, Amanda thought, you just stop doing it and make yourself forget it until it’s too late to start again. Another gift from Jamie, rekindling physical affection and comfort in the house. She hated to ever think of not having that with her mom or with Jamie ever again.

Jamie’s breathing slowed until it was clear he was asleep. Amanda said quietly, “You did a good job today, Mom.”

Hearing that soft praise from Amanda, Becky had to stop herself from getting emotional again, even if she couldn’t stop her watery eyes from spilling a few more tears.

“We’re seeing the therapist in two days, right,” Amanda asked.

“Yes. Double session for his first time. You can miss class this early in the semester?”

“For this? I told the professor I was dealing with a sad little, and he practically told me to come back whenever to pick up my A+. But like I wouldn’t go no matter what he said.”

Becky ran her hands through her daughter’s long hair. I missed this so much, she thought. Littles really bring love with them, and they rekindle a lot that was forgotten, just like everyone says.

“I’ll put him back to bed,” Amanda whispered as she started to ease herself off the bed.

“No,” Mom said, “He’s fine where he is tonight.” She smiled down at him; she meant every word she said to him. She realized then that she never would or could say anything to him but the truth. “You bring me so much joy,” she said, kissing the top of his sleeping head still resting just below her chin. Even in the hard moments, joy.

Amanda got to her feet, and her mom reached out to take her hand. “You, too, baby girl. You can bring me so much joy.” She paused a moment and took a chance. “You can share the bed with us tonight, if you want.”

Amanda blushed but nodded, deciding if he wasn’t too old to sleep in his mommy’s bed, then she wasn’t either, though she knew a human’s age doesn’t mean much. They never get too old for anything, she thought. They know it too; that’s why they come here.

“I’ll go change into my PJs. Do you need anything?”

“Just a glass of water. And could you bring his bottle up too?”

“Be right back.”