Hostage

My daughter is 5. She has undiagnosed (except by me) generalized anxiety disorder. And that's ok. But it's challenging.

One aspect of this is that transitions are challenging for her. This has always been true. The way this manifests itself these days is for her to put up tremendous opposition to moving on to the next "event." An example of this: This morning I suggested to her that we take her little brother to the library for the parent/child program. Keep in mind she has been to this program many times, and always enjoys it. And once she's there, she doesn't want to leave. And so! But regardless of this fact, she stated that she didn't want to go. As a general rule, if either of my kids really doesn't want to go out, I don't push it. We all have days where we just don't feel like facing things. But usually, they are pretty enthusiastic about heading out to have a good time. So armed with all of this knowledge, I pushed. I told her that I felt that it was good for her brother, who really enjoys being there. I reminded her that she always enjoys it, too. Etcetcetc. She stated over an over again, for an hour that she didn't want to go. So I gave her the option of staying home. With someone else. Another part of her anxiety is that she is very reluctant to stay with anyone other than me, and that includes her father a lot of the time. (SIGHS!) So of course she said no to that idea. She stated that someone else should take her brother, while I stayed home with her. Now I am real with my daughter - may more so than I should be. I informed her that I did not plan to be stuck at home all of the time because she doesn't want to go out and doesn't want to stay with someone else. (I am irritated by this point, even though it's practically a daily discussion) I inform her that she has a choice of either coming with us to the program, or staying home with someone else. And I feel good about giving her options. It makes me feel that I am not forcing her to go somewhere she doesn't want to go, that the final decision IS hers.

In any event, after trying to convince her brother that he didn't want to go (he did) she reluctantly came along. But here's the next phase of her anxiety. She is afraid to go anywhere because she's afraid she'll need to use the bathroom on the way. This is something we are working on, but it is very frustrating for all, and adds to the angst that is every outing we go on. So I do as I always do, inform her that we're leaving, and encourage her to use the bathroom. And as always, she informs me that she'll go "right before we leave." And as always I then inform her that we are heading out the door. So she goes. Then she jumps into a discussion about how she just knows she has to go again, and on and on and on. And go into my part of the discussion, which is to remind her that she just went, and that she has successfully managed car rides before this one, etcetcetc. She is actually on a reward system for this one. But that's another post.

So at long last we are all in the car, and on our way. With bathroom breaks sandwiching the program, we do actually get there, and as predicted, both kids have a good time, and darling daughter doesn't want to leave. But it is a reward of sorts for me, who is then off the hook for having "made" her go in the first place. She genuinely seems surprised, once we're out, that she is having such a good time and is happy.

But it's work. And I get tired of it. And I know it's not her fault. I know she would rather not have these issues. And I feel for her. But I feel, sometimes, too often, that I am held hostage by her anxiety issues. I rarely get out of the house or do anything without the children. When I do, I worry about getting home before too much time has gone by. And I am envious, sometimes, of the other parents who go out with other adults. On a consistent basis. Hubby and I very rarely have time together without the kids. And that's hard on us.

But I remind myself of how lucky I am. How very lucky. And we move forward. And it's all ok.

Tact

There are ways of being beautiful that have nothing to do with what you wear, how you style your hair or anything that the eye can see when you walk into a room. It's a way a person presents him or herself. A manner of communicating. Of using your ears to hear and your eyes to see what kind of space another person is in, and communicate accordingly. Tact.

We are all human and we all say stupid or unkind things from time to time-but hopefully we catch ourselves and make it right.

But for some reason it's much easier to remember the hurtful things that are said to us than the kind things. That is very true for me. I'm sensitive. If someone says 10 kind things to me and one very hurtful or confusing thing, for years the hurtful comment will live in my head and when I think of that person, the unkindness pops up with the image of the person like a giant out of style hat.

It does no good, other than the decompression that can come with venting, to complain about the person, and it's a waste of time to expect the blunderer to mend his evil ways, so the only helpful thing to do is to take the experience as a lesson in how not to behave myself.

And it gets complicated. I try to treat my children with the respect that I would hope they give to and expect from others. So what do you do when someone is disrespectful to them, or to you in front of them? Let's face it. We're not always going to be a walking example of exemplary behavior. When someone is a jerk, my desire is to let them know they've been a jerk. Helpful or not!! But I try to explain to my kids that it is natural to get angry or hurt. It's what you do with those feelings that matters. And wow. When someone is unkind and I'm able to maintain my dignity and continue to be respectful (while asserting myself, too) well, that's a gift.

My parents used to compliment us kids when we were tactful. It stayed with me. I'd like to do the same for my kids. Because after all, beautiful is as beautiful does, right?

(Though damn it does feel good to rip someone to shreds even if I am alone in my car at the time!!!) =)

Gentle Nudge

Today is the first day of DD's winter vacation. Ok, it's not really. Yesterday was. But hubby was home, so it felt like a weekend day. It wasn't until last night that I started to feel the dread that comes with the knowledge that I will be the sole child care provider from early in the morning until late in the afternoon. Why that makes me feel so burdened, I don't know. It's been my truth for over five years. Day after day after day. I guess just having another adult around means that I get five seconds of breathing room every now and then. On my own, I face a day of doing it all: taking care of their needs and entertaining, while trying to fit in my needs, and frankly, trying desperately to find ways to entertain myself.

There are things I really enjoy about the unstructured days that we have. The kids can be so creative. This morning, my daughter was playing computer games, and found a paper lantern that she could design online, then print out and shape into a lantern. This lead to her wanting to make blank paper lanterns that people could design on their own. She made one, and spent the better part of an hour drawing and pasting stuff on to it. I love to watch her doing this stuff. Darling son got into the act, and enjoyed playing with the craft items and glue.

The downside of these types of independent projects is that stuff gets everywhere. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, it's fun to play with stuff, and it's fun to get it everywhere. On the other hand, my daughter has inherited my lack of neatness, and doesn't think twice about leaving stuff all over the place and moving on to something else. Ugh. So of course that means that most likely I will be picking it up, and I don't enjoy the task any more than she does. And it becomes my job to try to teach her how to be more organized and to clean up after herself, NOT my forte!! So ugh. Blek. Yuck.

So....while I feel great about her craftiness, I get really bummed out by her messiness, and so.

Basically it brings me right back to my plan for this year, which is to PURGE about half, if not more, of our STUFF. By doing so I am making much needed space in our house, and I feel it will be much easier for the kids to see what they need to do to pick up after themselves. (And me, too) And there will actually be places to put things away, rather than moving things from one surface to another. (Which is really discouraging.) And it's a huge thing for me, as I don't throw away anything. I'm not good at it! I attach sentimental feelings to anything. ANYTHING. So this is huge for me. But I'm working on it. I feel that I cannot expect DD to be neat and organized while living in a house that is anything but. And I have simply run out of places to put things. As I write this, my computer teeters on the pile of booklets and papers that it sits on. Pathetic. So every time I get angry or discouraged at the mess around the kids, I ultimately get upset with myself, and restart my efforts to get rid of stuff. And so.

Once again I am moving my way around the kitchen, trying to find things to get out of the house. (It's kitchen items month in my year of purge) I run into snags all the time, because many of the things I want to get rid of have plenty of life left in them, so I don't feel right throwing them away. But I don't know where to take them. For kitchen purge month I have contacted DD's school, and they will take some stuff, and a community center, which will take small items that I can drop off once a week at certain hours. (It's work...will I do it? I hope so.)

So....it's a gentle nudge, a reminder, a restart. It keeps a person on task who is as scattered and as distractable as they come. I, like my DD, spin in circles and never know where to start or how to stay on task. But for her sake, and for my own sake, I will keep trying.