Oy. I could use other words but I'll stick with oy. Sort of sums it up. It's been another long week full of ups and downs...seems like more downs than ups this week. I'm start with tonight then get reflective on the rest of the week in another post....maybe it will make tonight make more sense.
So....today was a snitty sort of day - lots of comments from TK about my mothering skills, and none of them complimentary. I tried hard not to say the things I wanted to say, and did pretty well (to a point....keep reading). We went to a dear friend's house for dinner, where TK abandoned her manners, interrupted, demanded attention, and made somewhat rude remarks. Luckily this is a very forgiving and compassionate friend, so I was only mildly mortified. Things were okay when we got home, but we were late getting to bed.
Right before bed she was messing with one of the cats and got scratched.....fuse lit! She threw an orange at him (missed, but now I have to figure out where the dang orange went). I went to get a washcloth and soap to clean the cut. It's cold out , so it takes a while for the water to warm up. About two minutes later TK yells, "Why on earth is this taking you so long?" I said I was trying to get it warm and she yelled, "I DON'T NEED IT WARM. JUST GIVE IT TO ME!" So now my fuse is lit too. Yep, it shouldn't have been, and this was really no big deal, but I was just in the place where I was done. Blame if on being tired and achy with fibro flare, blame it on having her home (yet again) with me most of the week as we work this school transition, or just blame it on the fact that I was just tired of it.....whatever you pick, the result is the same. I blew. I dropped the washcloth in her lap, told her to wash the scratch, get her pajamas on and get into bed (and yes, I was yelling). She immediately rose to the occasion with, "Mom, why are you being so mean?" I told her I was tired of the unappreciative behavior and the attitude, she needed to go to bed and I was DONE. Then I closed her door (not quite slamming it , but darn close) and stomped across the house. (Temper tantrum much? Yep, I admit it. Not proud of it, but I promised myself I'd be honest in my blog, and that includes my screwups.)
Of course she came out and sat on the kitchen floor sobbing. I ignored her ---- yes, I know it was childish and just made things worse, but I really didn't care. It doesn't happen often, but tonight was one of those (luckily) rare occasions where I knew I was blowing it and just kept driving that bus off the cliff.
I did regroup (somewhat) enough to read to her and pat her to sleep. I told her I was really sorry she was sad but that a lot of what she said really hurt my feelings. I think she was already asleep, so I was talking to myself.
I really hate the days where I am just feeling done and don't care how it goes. They are blessedly rare but inevitably end up with me feeling guilty for blowing it. (Right now I'm just still done and not yet feeling guilty, but I'm sure it will kick in tomorrow....or the next day when she is at school and I have a chance to breathe. Of course tomorrow is a day off because heaven knows we need another long weekend!)
Rest assured you will blow it too. And equally assuredly there will be days when you are truly utterly and completely done. And no, you don't ever get to be, so give yourself grace for when you are. This calling is exhausting, and there are days it will break you. But there's this amazing super glue called grace that makes us whole enough to try again another day.
So yeah, I need to dig up a big old pile of that super glue grace to get past tonight.
Luckily tomorrow is another chance to do it better. Hopefully I will.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Friday, January 9, 2015
Why am I still surprised when I'm surprised? (aka "well duh")
Yesterday.......an up and down, frustrating, eye-opening kind of day. TK woke up early, happily came out of her room with clothes on, hair brushed, full of smiles. She ate breakfast and went to her room to play on her iPad before school. I went in to tell her we were leaving in about 15 minutes, and she said, "No, Mom, I don't want to go." I pretty much ignored it and went back out of her room. I went back in when it was time to leave and immediately got tears and "I'm not going. I hate that school." To my credit, I recognized the "I hate that school" for what it was - not a statement about school, just a way of saying she was scared. To my discredit, I blew it off because I was not in the mood for yet another chapter of "transition is scary." I was in my "suck it up and get over it" headspace......which is about as far removed from what TK needed as I could get.
After about 15 minutes of drama (which I admittedly engaged in full on), I finally got back into my Trauma Mama headspace and chilled out enough to listen. It was REALLY cold outside, and there were snow flurries. We got into the car (yes, I was still totally frustrated but had stopped fussing at her at least; she was still crying but not sobbing......which was about as close to okay as it was going to get at that moment) and headed to school. As we passed her old school (about 3 minutes into our 25 minute ride), she said, "I miss how close my old school was. Even if it snowed I knew you could get me."
There it was --- the "well duh" moment. I said, "Are you scared because I'm 25 minutes away when you're at your new school?" TK said, "Mommy (a sure sign she's scared), what if if we have bad weather and you can't get to me? What if I get hurt and you can't get to me?" I just said, "Wow, that is a scary thought. I bet that's why it's so hard when we're leaving for school." My sweet, smart, sarcastic girl says, "Ya THINK?" I told her I would ALWAYS get to her. If the weather looked bad we wouldn't go to school that day, or if turned bad I would leave BEFORE it started snowing to make sure I would get there. Then I apologized for not realizing she was scared by the distance. Her response, "Yeah, you should have figured that out." Can't argue with her!
When we got to school the director and her teacher both told her if there was bad weather they would stay with her until I got there, or would bring her home, or meet me between school and home. Counting my blessings that those sweet people got it, acknowledged her fear and worked to ease it.
We ended up going back home together yesterday. I wasn't thrilled, but we bundled up, jumped on the trampoline, drank hot chocolate and laughed and executed a full-on re-do from the morning. And this morning we headed to school with no drama at all. Sometimes you have to move backward or at least stand still before you try to go forward again.
I am honestly surprised when I am surprised. Sometimes I think I have this pretty much figured out, then something like this happens and I wonder how on earth I didn't get it. It always goes back to fear. Sometimes in my fatigue I forget that and just go at the surface issue. That's a sure-fire way to go off the cliff. If I can breathe and remember that it's fear talking, not obstinance, not defiance, we can move forward. Most times I can, but sometimes we just go off the cliff.
So yeah, I blew it.....as I undoubtedly will again. But our family totally believes in "re-dos", and we extend each other the grace to execute a re-do as often as we need one.....even when (especially when) we don't want to. Sometimes TK can't extend me a re-do right when I ask for one (and she'll tell me, "Mom, I just can't do that right now. Give me some time."), but inevitably she'll grant my re-do. That, my friends, is grace.
Grace yourselves with unlimited re-dos. There is healing in failing and trying again. The failing stinks, but admitting it to your TK and asking for grace to try again is a healing thing. It builds their faith and tolerance for other people goofing up when they know even the people that love them most in the world goof up but fix it.
Our TKs don't need us to get it right every time. They need us to own it when we flub it, ask for a re-do and thank them when they grant it. They need us to keep trying so they know they are worth the effort.
So take some grace and hold onto it for your next goof up. I'm holding on to some grace for mine.
After about 15 minutes of drama (which I admittedly engaged in full on), I finally got back into my Trauma Mama headspace and chilled out enough to listen. It was REALLY cold outside, and there were snow flurries. We got into the car (yes, I was still totally frustrated but had stopped fussing at her at least; she was still crying but not sobbing......which was about as close to okay as it was going to get at that moment) and headed to school. As we passed her old school (about 3 minutes into our 25 minute ride), she said, "I miss how close my old school was. Even if it snowed I knew you could get me."
There it was --- the "well duh" moment. I said, "Are you scared because I'm 25 minutes away when you're at your new school?" TK said, "Mommy (a sure sign she's scared), what if if we have bad weather and you can't get to me? What if I get hurt and you can't get to me?" I just said, "Wow, that is a scary thought. I bet that's why it's so hard when we're leaving for school." My sweet, smart, sarcastic girl says, "Ya THINK?" I told her I would ALWAYS get to her. If the weather looked bad we wouldn't go to school that day, or if turned bad I would leave BEFORE it started snowing to make sure I would get there. Then I apologized for not realizing she was scared by the distance. Her response, "Yeah, you should have figured that out." Can't argue with her!
When we got to school the director and her teacher both told her if there was bad weather they would stay with her until I got there, or would bring her home, or meet me between school and home. Counting my blessings that those sweet people got it, acknowledged her fear and worked to ease it.
We ended up going back home together yesterday. I wasn't thrilled, but we bundled up, jumped on the trampoline, drank hot chocolate and laughed and executed a full-on re-do from the morning. And this morning we headed to school with no drama at all. Sometimes you have to move backward or at least stand still before you try to go forward again.
I am honestly surprised when I am surprised. Sometimes I think I have this pretty much figured out, then something like this happens and I wonder how on earth I didn't get it. It always goes back to fear. Sometimes in my fatigue I forget that and just go at the surface issue. That's a sure-fire way to go off the cliff. If I can breathe and remember that it's fear talking, not obstinance, not defiance, we can move forward. Most times I can, but sometimes we just go off the cliff.
So yeah, I blew it.....as I undoubtedly will again. But our family totally believes in "re-dos", and we extend each other the grace to execute a re-do as often as we need one.....even when (especially when) we don't want to. Sometimes TK can't extend me a re-do right when I ask for one (and she'll tell me, "Mom, I just can't do that right now. Give me some time."), but inevitably she'll grant my re-do. That, my friends, is grace.
Grace yourselves with unlimited re-dos. There is healing in failing and trying again. The failing stinks, but admitting it to your TK and asking for grace to try again is a healing thing. It builds their faith and tolerance for other people goofing up when they know even the people that love them most in the world goof up but fix it.
Our TKs don't need us to get it right every time. They need us to own it when we flub it, ask for a re-do and thank them when they grant it. They need us to keep trying so they know they are worth the effort.
So take some grace and hold onto it for your next goof up. I'm holding on to some grace for mine.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
The first "real" day at the new school.......or maybe not
I was stunned......TK slept through the night last night - in her own bed - the night before the first official day at the new school. I thought that surely was a good omen. Silly me.
TK woke up and came out in the den, saying nothing. I, surprisingly given my lack of coffee and 19 days of nearly non-stop Mom/TK togetherness, was smart enough to say nothing as well. I made her lunch, got her breakfast - still silence. I notice she is sitting curled up in a ball. I tell myself it IS really cold in the den (and it is), but I feel the sense of foreboding building. TK gets up and goes to her room, where she climbs back in bed and pulls the blanket over her head. I seriously debate whether I want to go in the lion's den and decide I don't. Within 2 minutes I hear, "Well, are you coming?" Sigh. I shoot up a quick prayer for patience and head in. I sit on the chair and stare at the floor as she says, "I'm not going." I don't say anything (out loud. Inside I was screaming, "You have GOT to be kidding me. I've been waiting for this day for 19 days. You are going if I have to drag you there!") TK: "So, aren't you going to say anything?" Me: "I know it's a huge change and it's scary." TK: "It's not scary. I'm not a BABY! Quit treating me like I'm a baby." Me: silence. (I'm pretty sure the blood was dripping down my face from biting my lip, but I did it.....stayed silent and stared at the floor, just offering my presence.) TK: "I'm NOT GOING AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" Me: (here comes the blowing it part): I leave the room, huffing and puffing and yelling, "Fine, just go back to your old school. Just pick a dumb school and get on with it!" (yeah, I know.......oops)
After a few minutes, TK comes out, more calmly: "Mom, it's too different. I am completely overwhelmed. I promise I will be ready tomorrow. I just need another day to talk it through with you and get myself ready. We didn't do that yesterday." (Good point. I was going at it from the "the less we talk about it the less nervous you'll get" mode.....or at least that's what I told myself. The real truth is I just didn't want the drama, so I didn't bring it up.)
So....critical decision point here. Do I make her go? That would violate her trust and most likely kill our communication for some amount of time. But I REALLY need a break, and I was so looking forward to having a day to myself. Do I let her stay home? Do I validate her feelings, show her she is more important than a day at school, make her feel safe and valued and heard?
Yep, I did the right thing. I called school and said she'd be there tomorrow, she and I went to the Adventure Science Center, jumped on the trampoline, talked about school fears and worries and plans to address them when we got there tomorrow....none of which I wanted to do, and all of which I honestly resented. But the desire to make my TK feel safe and treasured was stronger than my resentment, so it was okay.
So tomorrow we try again. And I really hope it works, because I honestly don't think I have the grace to have another non-school day!
TK asked to go to bed early tonight...can't decide if that's a good sign or a bad one, but I've decided to just enjoy the peace and quiet and worry about tomorrow when it comes.
Give yourself some grace for those oops moments, and congratulate yourself when the love and compassion override the "shoulds"....I should make her go to school; we should go visit x.....there are a million shoulds that will try to sway you. Be strong, and remember....nothing matters more than your relationship with your TK. Search for the grace to build that even when it's hard....especially when it's hard. Seeing TK giggle and be genuinely happy today was worth putting aside my "me time". On the whole, the good decisions outweighed the oops ones, so I'm calling it a successful day. Hopefully tomorrow will bring enough grace to give us another one. (And let's be real, hopefully tomorrow finds her at school!)
TK woke up and came out in the den, saying nothing. I, surprisingly given my lack of coffee and 19 days of nearly non-stop Mom/TK togetherness, was smart enough to say nothing as well. I made her lunch, got her breakfast - still silence. I notice she is sitting curled up in a ball. I tell myself it IS really cold in the den (and it is), but I feel the sense of foreboding building. TK gets up and goes to her room, where she climbs back in bed and pulls the blanket over her head. I seriously debate whether I want to go in the lion's den and decide I don't. Within 2 minutes I hear, "Well, are you coming?" Sigh. I shoot up a quick prayer for patience and head in. I sit on the chair and stare at the floor as she says, "I'm not going." I don't say anything (out loud. Inside I was screaming, "You have GOT to be kidding me. I've been waiting for this day for 19 days. You are going if I have to drag you there!") TK: "So, aren't you going to say anything?" Me: "I know it's a huge change and it's scary." TK: "It's not scary. I'm not a BABY! Quit treating me like I'm a baby." Me: silence. (I'm pretty sure the blood was dripping down my face from biting my lip, but I did it.....stayed silent and stared at the floor, just offering my presence.) TK: "I'm NOT GOING AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" Me: (here comes the blowing it part): I leave the room, huffing and puffing and yelling, "Fine, just go back to your old school. Just pick a dumb school and get on with it!" (yeah, I know.......oops)
After a few minutes, TK comes out, more calmly: "Mom, it's too different. I am completely overwhelmed. I promise I will be ready tomorrow. I just need another day to talk it through with you and get myself ready. We didn't do that yesterday." (Good point. I was going at it from the "the less we talk about it the less nervous you'll get" mode.....or at least that's what I told myself. The real truth is I just didn't want the drama, so I didn't bring it up.)
So....critical decision point here. Do I make her go? That would violate her trust and most likely kill our communication for some amount of time. But I REALLY need a break, and I was so looking forward to having a day to myself. Do I let her stay home? Do I validate her feelings, show her she is more important than a day at school, make her feel safe and valued and heard?
Yep, I did the right thing. I called school and said she'd be there tomorrow, she and I went to the Adventure Science Center, jumped on the trampoline, talked about school fears and worries and plans to address them when we got there tomorrow....none of which I wanted to do, and all of which I honestly resented. But the desire to make my TK feel safe and treasured was stronger than my resentment, so it was okay.
So tomorrow we try again. And I really hope it works, because I honestly don't think I have the grace to have another non-school day!
TK asked to go to bed early tonight...can't decide if that's a good sign or a bad one, but I've decided to just enjoy the peace and quiet and worry about tomorrow when it comes.
Give yourself some grace for those oops moments, and congratulate yourself when the love and compassion override the "shoulds"....I should make her go to school; we should go visit x.....there are a million shoulds that will try to sway you. Be strong, and remember....nothing matters more than your relationship with your TK. Search for the grace to build that even when it's hard....especially when it's hard. Seeing TK giggle and be genuinely happy today was worth putting aside my "me time". On the whole, the good decisions outweighed the oops ones, so I'm calling it a successful day. Hopefully tomorrow will bring enough grace to give us another one. (And let's be real, hopefully tomorrow finds her at school!)
Saturday, January 3, 2015
It's a small, small world
Those of you who have been following my blog for a bit know how I feel about breaks - they are challenges to be endured with occasional spates of joy. It is like riding a roller coaster backward in the dark....you have no idea what's coming next, and you're not sure if you're going to laugh or scream, but odds are at some point you're going to do both.
Being proactive around periods of stress (like long breaks) is key with a TK. One major step to this is making your world small. This means limiting outside things, keeping things simple, not a lot of people, not a lot of new experiences. This provides stability and safety and limits the possibility of overwhelm for your TK. The down side of this, especially for us, is it means LOTS of togetherness. We already have an overabundance of this in our house. On a good day there are a few people TK feels safe with, but the kerfuffle at her old school ripped away that feeling of safety. She doesn't trust her own judgment because people she trusted hurt her/rejected her. So even those most trusted folks are under suspicion - who's going to ditch me next? Who's going to decide I'm not worthy?
This "small world" togetherness is compounded by the very real fact that we lead a pretty solitary life. Not by choice, but the past has resulted in many "friends" ditching us, and TK's unpredictability has made me leery/nervous around potential new friends. That's a shortcoming on my part, and it's also a protection similar to TK's. We've had many (we thought) dear friends reject us after TK acted out, and we were both left reeling. In my attempts to protect her, I have perhaps made her world too small, and certainly mine is.
This is a paradox I'm not sure how to crack. TK (and I) need a bigger circle, yet she is so afraid to be rejected that she acts in way that almost ensures rejection. And I am so desperate to avoid that fallout (and scarred by my own trauma stuff) that I tend to approach it from fear as well.
Love conquers fear, and heaven knows we have an abundance of the former. So with time, and grace, we will have less of the latter.
This blog didn't exactly go where I thought it would.....that's what happens when you write from your heart. So send us a little grace while we work on stamping out the fear and living only in the love. (And if you want to grab a cup of coffee or set up a playdate, call me!)
Being proactive around periods of stress (like long breaks) is key with a TK. One major step to this is making your world small. This means limiting outside things, keeping things simple, not a lot of people, not a lot of new experiences. This provides stability and safety and limits the possibility of overwhelm for your TK. The down side of this, especially for us, is it means LOTS of togetherness. We already have an overabundance of this in our house. On a good day there are a few people TK feels safe with, but the kerfuffle at her old school ripped away that feeling of safety. She doesn't trust her own judgment because people she trusted hurt her/rejected her. So even those most trusted folks are under suspicion - who's going to ditch me next? Who's going to decide I'm not worthy?
This "small world" togetherness is compounded by the very real fact that we lead a pretty solitary life. Not by choice, but the past has resulted in many "friends" ditching us, and TK's unpredictability has made me leery/nervous around potential new friends. That's a shortcoming on my part, and it's also a protection similar to TK's. We've had many (we thought) dear friends reject us after TK acted out, and we were both left reeling. In my attempts to protect her, I have perhaps made her world too small, and certainly mine is.
This is a paradox I'm not sure how to crack. TK (and I) need a bigger circle, yet she is so afraid to be rejected that she acts in way that almost ensures rejection. And I am so desperate to avoid that fallout (and scarred by my own trauma stuff) that I tend to approach it from fear as well.
Love conquers fear, and heaven knows we have an abundance of the former. So with time, and grace, we will have less of the latter.
This blog didn't exactly go where I thought it would.....that's what happens when you write from your heart. So send us a little grace while we work on stamping out the fear and living only in the love. (And if you want to grab a cup of coffee or set up a playdate, call me!)
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