TK is not a good speller. To be honest, TK is a rather abysmal speller. Luckily, at her current (Montessori) school, they just meet the students where they are rather than handing them a "grade-level" list. So TK has been handling her spelling lists (which are one to two grade levels below her current grade level) and tests well. She scored 100 on the last three tests, which built her confidence tremendously and inspired her to ask her teacher for a harder list. Wish granted.
Our usual spelling studying routine involves the trampoline and lots of silliness. Whenever TK spells a word correctly, she gets to do two back handsprings or back tucks. When she gets 5 correct in a row I have to do something silly that she picks, like spinning in a circle while singing the National Anthem.
This week studying has been a challenge. When she got two words wrong, she shut down, hopped off the trampoline and went inside and was done. I let her be done, which was the right response, but I missed a critical part of the dynamic.
Tonight our Dear Friend (DF) was over for dinner and TK wanted DF to do spelling with her. Heaven bless DF, she ran around singing, kissing kitties, and doing whatever zaniness TK prescribed. When DF left, TK ripped up the list and said, "I'm just going to flunk it anyway." I started into the "you can choose to study and I'm sure you'll get 100 or you can choose to quit and get what you get" routine......which is a fine explanation of natural consequences but totally misses the issue. After a moment, I reconnected with my trauma mama brain, and said, "Why is it so important that you get 100?" TK said, "If I don't get 100, the assistant teacher won't love me anymore. She told me she wanted me to get 100s." At first I explained that the assistant teacher was just trying to motivate her and I knew the result would not impact how the assistant teacher felt. Then I stopped myself, breathed into my trauma mama mode (again), and said, "Wow, that's a lot of pressure." Then I just waited. TK started crying big silent tears, then said, "They only love the kids that do well." I struggled to keep down all the denials that ran through my head and said, "Man, that's a really scary way to feel. It must be really hard to think people won't love you if you're not good enough." TK said, "Yeah, it is. At least I know you always love me." (Score one for the home team!) I reminded her that DF loved her the way I did, regardless of test scores or anything else (then secretly texted DF to tell her to reinforce those particular words as their next meeting!). TK hemmed and hawed a bit, wanting so desperately to believe it, but not quite trusting it.
We left it there. TK felt heard and understood. I felt stumped. Her new teachers are not really aware of all of her trauma stuff and how it impacts her. They know she's a TK but not what that means at a deep level, and we've been lucky that nothing big has really popped up so far. So now I have to figure out how to convey to them that they need to reassure TK that how they feel about her is independent of her success or failure. The natural reaction to that is for folks to say, "Of course I love her regardless, she should know that." Then I have to explain that she doesn't, and why she doesn't. And honestly there are times I don't even know myself why she doesn't (yet) believe that. I just know she doesn't, and the why doesn't matter.
I haven't seen that doubting, scared TK in a while (which is amazing), and it was sad to see her tonight. But it was also a good reminder......success is important to build confidence, but it can be a minefield for TKs. Because as some point the success will stop, and the fear will creep in.
Listen with your hearts, Trauma Mamas. I still struggle to keep myself from proffering solutions (and, as witnessed tonight, sometimes I still mess that up), but I do eventually remember to listen with my heart and not my head.
Give yourself some grace when your head kicks in. Your TK knows your heart will chime in sooner or later, and when it does you will offer them abundant grace. Revel in the successes, but be ready for the pitfalls that come with them. Celebrate the moments you can forget how to be Trauma Mama, but keep those skills sharp, because those TK moments pop up when you least expect them (and usually when you're least prepared to deal with them!) Stay strong, Trauma Mamas. Grab the grace of a day (or an hour or a minute) that your TK is "okay". Know it is because of your fearlessness in the face of rejection and your commitment to unconditional love. You rock, Trauma Mamas. WE rock.
