"Hey Mom, do you think I should go back into therapy?"
Wow, a question from my 8 year that wasn't about imaginary movies or a statement made for pure shock value! Something REAL, and honest, and sensitive.
"Yes, I do. Do you think you should go back into therapy?"
"Yeah, because I really want a big pocket knife."
I nodded. He wants big boy privileges, but he knows that his lack of self control makes it something that we can't provide for him.
"Well, I am trying to get you into a therapist. I should hear something soon."
"Maybe you could be my therapist, Mom! I could lie on the couch and you could ask me questions while holding a notebook."
"Well, I guess so. I'd prefer you see a professional though."
I promised him 15 minutes of therapy after lunch. He ran off and forgot, and so did I. Later, when I was baking a snack for myself using the microwave which currently only works for 20 seconds at a time he asked me if it was time for therapy.
"Sorry buddy, I am trying to make a snack. Give me a minute."
"Hey mom, maybe I can be YOUR therapist! I'll get a notebook."
He settled down with his notebook and pencil and began asking questions.
"So, what's wrong with you?"
"What is that?"
"It means sometimes I feel really happy and sometimes I feel really sad."
He scribbled down a note.
"Sometimes I can be mean, but I think I am doing well today."
"I'll just write down that sometimes you are mean. Anything else?"
"Sometimes I have anxiety."
"And what is anxiety?"
"It means I feel scared, but I don't know why."
"Well, what do you think, doctor? Am I going to be alright?"
"Yes. You just need to buy your children something unhealthy to eat."