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“Wow, these are even better than I thought when they’re heated up!” Jason exclaims around a mouthful of ravioli. The bright orange-red sauce on his chin nearly matches the color of his hair, and I can’t help but smile at his delight.

Swallowing a bite of salad, I take a deep breath before bringing up the conversation I know needs to happen. “So, I heard that today might have been a little hard for you at school.”

Jason’s face darkens. “Ms. Benson tattled on me? Since you’re both teachers?”

“No, bud, it’s not like that,” I say. “Any time a student has a hard time like that at school, Ms. Benson calls to let that student’s grown-up know about it.

Not only because I’m a teacher. It’s because she wants to make sure that every student can talk through the emotions at home after a hard day at school. ”

Jason looks down at his bowl, chasing ravioli with his fork. “Well, Peter was mean. He was bullying me. Screaming was the only way to get him to stop.”

I reach over to place my hand on Jason’s shoulder and try to remember the tips Meghan gave me for these kinds of conversations. Connect to understand. Empathize. “It sounds like Peter did say some hurtful things to you. What were you feeling inside when he said those things?”

Jason’s quiet for a moment, but I see emotion building on his face. “I felt like punching him.”

My heart lurches, and I take a deep breath before responding.

“Well, I can understand why you might have felt that way. I’m really proud of you for not punching him even though you wanted to.

Hurting people is wrong, so I’m proud of you for making a better choice.

” Jason glances up at me, and I take another deep breath.

“But what were you feeling inside your heart that made you want to punch Peter?”

For a second, I think that Jason might be about to open up and talk about his deeper emotions. But then his face scrunches up and reddens. He yells, “I don’t know! I don’t want to talk anymore—talking is dumb. Can I play the tablet instead? ”

Adrenaline surges through me as I try to sort out how to react. “I’m not sure that playing the tablet is the best choice right now. We could play a card game or read a book together, or we could build some Legos—”

“No!” Jason’s shout cuts off my suggestions. “I don’t want to do anything with you! I’m going to my room.”

He stomps up the stairs, and I try to follow him. After all, every book I read to prepare me for this unconventional motherhood emphasized connection. Things like “time in” instead of “time out” and being emotionally and physically present for your child when he’s struggling.

When I step into Jason’s room, he whirls around to face me. “I said I don’t want to be around you! Leave me alone!”

I’m a deer in headlights. Does he actually want me to stay even though he’s saying he doesn’t? Or does he really need some alone time to calm down? How in the world am I supposed to figure this out?

“I could sit here with you while you—”

“No!” Jason cuts me off again, stomping his foot for emphasis.

Maybe it’s a mistake, but I decide to give Jason what he’s asking for this time.

“All right—how about we turn on some music and you can chill in here for a little bit while I go clean up the dishes? I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me, and I’ll come back to check on you when I’m done loading the dishwasher. ”

Jason shrugs one shoulder. I tell the smart device to start the playlist Jason created over winter break, and I retreat from the room.

Putting away the leftover salad, loading the dishes into the dishwasher, and wiping down the table becomes my form of regulation.

My own emotions are running on overdrive—mainly anxiety and crippling self-doubt.

When I finish tidying up the kitchen, I slowly walk back up to Jason’s room. Peering through the doorway, I see him sitting on his bed with a logic puzzle book in his lap. Blowing out a sigh of relief, I knock gently on the door frame. “Hey there. Just checking in to see how it’s going.”

“I’m stuck on this part of the puzzle. Can you help me?” Jason asks.

“Sure, I can,” I reply, moving to sit next to Jason on the bed. I’m too afraid of restarting the cycle to bring up his emotional response or the day at school again. I help him with the logic puzzle until it’s time for him to take a shower and get ready for bed.

We sit together on his bed to read the next chapter of The Prisoner of Azkaban . Jason starts yawning halfway through, so I suggest finishing the rest tomorrow. He agrees, and I squeeze him in a hug.

Looking into his piercing green eyes, I say, “You know, Jason, I love you all the time. No matter what.”

A conflicted look passes over his face. “You do?”

I nod and say, “I do.” He still looks conflicted, so I ask, “Do you know what I mean when I say ‘I love you’ to you?”

When Jason shrugs, I continue. “I don’t just mean I like you, or I think you’re a really cool kid.

Even though I do like you and you are a really cool kid.

It means that you’re really, really important to me, and I choose you as my biggest priority.

” His eyes widen, and I squeeze his shoulders again.

“It means I’m with you one hundred percent, forever.

I’m yours, and you’re mine, no matter what happens.

You and me together—that’s home. When I say ‘I love you,’ it means you’re stuck with me forever, okay? ” I finish with a teasing smile.

Jason vigorously nods his head. “Okay, yeah.” He wraps his arms around my waist and hugs tightly. “Thanks for making my favorite dinner tonight.”

I know we didn’t really address the roots of everything that transpired today—the root of everything that’s transpired in his life. But that’s going to take longer than one conversation over dinner.

“You’re welcome, Jason,” I murmur, kissing the top of his head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“G’night,” he says before burrowing down under his gray comforter.

Thankfully, after a couple of weeks here, Jason realized he likes sleeping with the bedroom door closed and sound machine on, so I quietly pull the door shut as I exit. Shuffling out to the living room, I collapse on the couch.

Did I do that right? He calmed down, but we never really talked about what he was feeling or how to handle it better next time. Did I chicken out by leaving him alone? Or was that what he needed? What about next time ?

I close my eyes and rub my temples. Sitting up, I decide to text Samantha.

ME

Hi, Samantha. I wanted to let you know that Jason had a rough first day back to school today. I really don’t want to burden you, so don’t worry about coming over on Wednesday. I appreciate your offer so much, though!

SAMANTHA

I swear you’re not a burden, Danae! Wait and see how the next two days go.

If it doesn’t seem like Jason would be ready to be away from you, that’s one thing.

But if you’re only worried about his potential behavior, I already told you that doesn’t scare me.

So if he seems ok with it on Wed, I’ll still come over!

ME

Are you sure?

SAMANTHA

Girl, stop questioning me! I’M SURE. You deserve to go to book club!

ME

Okay, I’ll update you on Wednesday.