So This Is Hard

Some days are good days as a parent and some are bad days.   Some days might not seem like bad days until something happens that really lets you know how bad they are.   Something crystalizes it and you just sort of mentally slump in your mind chair and think, “I need to do better tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that…because there is a small being who needs you.”

I was going through the work my daughter had brought home from school today.   This was after having the first ever tantrum on the floor, I don’t want to go to school, my stomach hurts, incident from my daughter.    We thought it might be her antibiotic, but we’re fairly certain it’s anxiety.    I sent her off in the taxi with her very understanding and kind driver with the promise to send her teachers an email about her not feeling well.

I got a response back from her teacher saying they would do their best to help her out when she got to school.    In the afternoon my husband got a call from her as well and they talked about all that was going on.   My daughter has a new teacher, yes, but so does every other student in her class.   She’s got the added change of a new braillest, a new VI teacher and a new taxi driver.   And none of her friends are in the taxi with her.    Her day is completely different, which is one thing, but she’s losing vision on top of it and she’s not coping well.  At all.

Her play therapist said to me two weeks ago that she needs to co-regulate, that she can’t self-regulate right now and will need extra time spent with her and that there’s not much we can do to help aside from ride this out with her.    So when I read this that she’d written up at school in the first week, well, it made me want to cry.



I was on the way to my son’s integrative therapist with him and when he was done I showed this note to Liz and asked for a quick bit of advice, saying we’d be meeting with Dhruti for more in the way of guidance tomorrow.

Liz, who’s also seen my daughter, albeit only a few times, said she noticed my daughter was in fight or flight mode almost 100% of the time, with the only mental break she got from it when she curled up in a ball on the floor (which she does regularly and I didn’t know that’s what it meant).   She said, “what is ‘play’ to a child?  It’s everything.  She just wants you to do anything with her.   You can help her put her things away or have her help you in what you’re doing.   Just being together will help.”

We’re not failing as parents, but we have a lot of challenges to help my daughter.   Some days feel like C- parenting days.   Fortunately we have a long time to go before the final grade is in.

The Big Boy Update:  My son played some tennis at camp today.   He sort of likes tennis, although getting the ball to go to the spot it’s suppose to go is a bit of a challenge.   In his mind he made up an entirely new version of tennis in which you tried to hit the ball over, under or into the net.   There were points awarded based on difficulty of the shot.   This was, “Penalty Ball” he told me he’d named the game.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter told Beth this weekend, “I’m gonna tell you my secret power…I hear everything.”