This morning I had to wait to write until I felt open in my heart and mind. Last night was not easy for Sarah regarding sleep, which meant it wasn’t easy for me or Carl either. Unfortunately, we have a case of The Boy Who Cried Wolf, otherwise known as the Girl Who Called For Her Parents. Despite repeated reminders that we will not respond to her calling out for us after we have said goodnight, that doesn’t stop her from calling out. One night we heard her saying, “Mom! Dad! I want, I want, I want…anything!” Last night Sarah wasn’t feeling the best in her head and belly, but I didn’t feel as loving and tender as I usually have in such situations. Instead I felt mistrustful and grumpy. I did respond to her calls throughout the night, but not with much openness in my heart. This morning, once she was awake and wanted to snuggle, I sat next to her and felt how tightly I was holding onto my grumpitude. I closed my eyes and breathed into it, and I could tell that it was something I could just let go of. At least half-way. I felt softer in my heart and could receive chin-presses. I felt good about presenting Sarah with socks that a friend recently sent her. She was delighted and I felt like we had a reset on the day.
And then I made the terrible mistake of trying to be helpful by making Sarah’s hot chocolate. Note that on every school morning I make her breakfast in the interest of time, but on weekends she often makes it herself or helps, but that often requires encouragement on my part. I didn’t expect that my offering would get roundly rejected and dumped down the sink. Back came all of my fury and tightness and grumpiness. This was not our finest moment, but it does epitomize the heart journey Sarah leads me on, presenting me with ever more opportunities to open my heart and soften and try again, both in her direction and in my own. I can so quickly berate myself for not being perfectly loving and patient and clear with my boundaries, but I can see that I’m not being very gracious towards myself with such a high bar of perfection. I can feel embarrassed that I’m not more calm in terms of what Amy witnesses. But, then I think about What We Carry by Maya Shanbhag Lang, and how a mother who hides her own struggles is not necessarily helpful to her offspring in the way she might think she is. Maybe having Amy witness my struggles and regrouping will be helpful to her at some point with her own struggles. I can hope.
Amy sent me a text saying, “I love you” when she was upstairs and listening to my struggles with Sarah. That helped me feel all of what was going on under my tight anger so I could soften into tears. Then I scrolled instagram and found a short video of an opossum seeing itself in the mirror and being so startled that it immediately rolled over and played dead. For some reason that was one of the funniest things ever while also seeming profoundly symbolic, and it helped shift my energy even more.
So now here we are and I can share more from the week. Sarah’s swim session with me went really well. I figured out a different way to coach her about her arms and it really seemed to make a difference. She also decided independently to practice kicking while holding the wall and I could see her doing the most powerful kicks I’ve ever seen her do.
Yesterday while I was taking a class for Alexander Technique teachers, Carl took the girls on a Gateway Clipper boat ride that was all about Millie’s ice cream, Barbie, and pink. They all wore as much pink as possible and got their pictures in a Barbie box. They had a wonderful time, although Sarah felt a little bleh once she got home. After a short rest she seemed good as new. Then Carl and I got dressed up to go to a party for his rowing club which was celebrating its fortieth anniversary. While we were out, Sarah, Amy, and Anna watched Frozen 2, and Sarah seemed fine until bedtime, when again she felt a little bleh. That brings us back to last night’s lack of sleep. Sarah seems to be feeling good again this morning now that we have gotten past our grumps, breakfast has been had, and she has new musical note socks upon her feet. Perhaps this day is getting off on the right foot after all.
Wishing you all new socks and messages of “I love you” coming in just when you need them.
Leave a Reply