The frog hopped along walking sideways with thoughts, asking the young boy to please share his, ‘it wasn’t me. i’m not much anyway, but if i were, it wouldn’t matter.’ the frog stopped hopping, ‘what matters is you. you don’t know this yet. i pray you will.’ the boy stepped along remembering. always remembering.
I live my life a very particular way. As a child I learned how blocks of time could be stolen by others. Others with negative agendas. It was up to me to learn to remove these toxic peoples from my life. I prefer a pinch of sunshine in my water in the morning, no matter how many toxic individuals cross my path. If you are dealing with toxicity, remove it. Simply walk away, cut them off, and move on. Find a support system for yourself, such as others who have experienced similar scenarios, and speak out-loud the abuses you experienced. Look in the mirror and tell yourself that you are worth it. Because you are. And please, go have some fun!
How can anyone abuse a child?
I picked Gavin up from daycare.
He told me he was a good boy today
and that means he gets a treat,
and a bath. We always give him
a bath, but he lingers on the thought
about how being good means getting a bath.
Gavin was sound asleep when I pulled
our truck into the garage. I managed
to carry him into the house and lay
him on the couch without waking him.
Gavin being asleep means he didn’t take
a nap. When I took his rain boots off,
sand spilled all over the couch cushions.
I smiled and pet his head. “Gavin, it’s time
to eat dinner and take a bath.” I said sweetly.
It’s easy for me to be sweet to him. I love him.
He didn’t wake. I told myself not to write about
this, but my body walked up the stairs and sat
on my chair to write about it. Now though, I
need to stop the writing and wake Gavin.
He really does need a bath 🙂
I knew about a thing as I put it somewhere. The cat ran. Quickening my thought steps I remember an awfulness that is now put in another ‘where’ so we can again listen to more of the rain. I can still hear the vibrations of the truck coming when it was never wanted. -M. Taggart
Some of you may know that for the first three years of Gavin’s life, I was his primary care giver. Never have I hit Gavin. I don’t believe in hitting as a form of discipline. I couldn’t imagine inflicting that mental and physical distress on a child.
Now, he has fun, three days a week at daycare and is enrolled for Pre-K. However! Every morning I keep him 🙂 I play with him, I read to him and I make his breakfast. I ask him, “Gavin, what would you like for breakfast?” Lately his reply has been, “I’d like an english-muffin with peanut butter and chocolate, big-big strawberries, raspberries, apple juice, and a water. Paleaseeeee.” I drink coffee while preparing his breakfast and watch as my little Gavin plays with his dinosaurs or sea creatures. Or, a puzzle. Or anything. I love spending this time with him. When I was his age, I had no father. I made it very clear to myself and anyone listening that I was determined to be there for Gavin. Always. To be his primary care giver for the first three years of his life was a blessing.
And now, when I pick him up from daycare (we call it school because it’s much like a school) he smiles SOO big and yells, “That’s my Dad!” And man…..man does that feel good. It’s simple. I’m here to be a loving, supportive, husband and father. Writing is a bonus that I am ragingly thankful for.
Often I think of children who have been tortured, abused, and manipulated. I was that child. I broke the cycle. We all can break the cycle, if we are aware and want to. Mental illness is a subject I take very seriously. I believe that we, as humanity, have barely begun to truly understand how deep, or to understand how many levels concerning mental illness there are. I believe there are forms of mental illness that have evolved our human race. I also believe there are forms that are evil. I think it’s important for the broken children who have been abused to understand they are not the evil ones.