November 4

Sarah seems increasingly attached to Amy as a playmate and companion. Earlier in the week she was so intent on getting extra time with Amy to play hotel or sleepover that Sarah got ready for school the fastest she ever has. While she often plays with (or fights with) Amy, and while she often asks grownups to play certain games with her, this seemed new and significant. 

For my Tuesday night teaching I was excited to wear my skeleton dress. I have been waiting to teach on a day close to Halloween for years! The last time I dressed up for a Halloween at massage school was about 19 years ago when I was a student. I went as a mussel.

Amy adores our cat Olivia. This week, for the first time ever, Olivia curled up in Amy’s lap.

Our Sarah-Rise volunteers and sitters continue to amaze me as much as ever with their creativity. Sc made a pretend fire with Sarah by making a pile of wooden marble run pieces with a cut-out paper flame in the middle. 

For Halloween, Sarah’s school doesn’t have fourth graders get in costume. (What?! Why?! They are not too old to dress up!!) They do have a party where kids exchange treats with their classmates. Sarah came home with the biggest haul ever. The bag was laughably heavy. I spent many minutes swapping in things that she could eat and adding what she couldn’t to a bag for Amy or our bucket of candy to hand out to trick or treaters. Unfortunately, Sarah was feeling sick. She stayed home instead of going trick or treating. She wasn’t even sad about missing it, which shows how sick she was. She stayed home on Thursday, in bed most of the day. Thursday was also the start of a new neuromuscular class for me to teach so I was extremely grateful that my father-in-law was able to babysit. Asking someone to hang out with your sick kid is a big deal, and for them to accept is an even bigger deal. Wednesday night I was anxious about Sarah’s sickness, worrying that it might be something dire and that in some way I had failed as a parent in my decisions about her health. Our cat also has something going on health-wise (probably an allergy of some sort) and I was anxious about that, concerned about how intensely heartbroken Amy will be if she dies. I really didn’t sleep well on Wednesday night, so when I came home from teaching on Thursday morning I was exhausted. I napped and then felt ready to work that night. Friday, Sarah needed to stay home again, even though she was notably improved. I spent half of the day in bed too and that helped me feel much better. 

When any of us are sick I tend to let technology use be unlimited. Yesterday it was limited because all of us are well (except the cat). By the end of the day there was much more of a mess throughout the house. At first I was grumpy, but then I realized that having toys spread all over is a wonderful sign that the girls have been playing and feeling good. 

October 28

Yesterday was a hard day for Pittsburgh, with a man killing several people in a synagogue. Normally I haven’t spoken much to the girls when such events happen but they were with me when I heard the news so they heard my gasp. Amy seemed to understand somewhat, although not in a way that meant she was scared or sad. I connected it to why they do lock down drills at school. It feels like a tricky balance to give weighty information lightly enough so as not to traumatize, but still wanting them to understand. The night before, Amy and I were reading a book that mentioned the devil. Amy didn’t know what that was and my explanation began with God and how different people believe different things. I explained that sometimes people get the ridiculous notion that their way is the only way and then in the name of God and love they end up doing violent things and killing people. I don’t know what more to say and do. I feel a bit numb about it. While I know we must continue to contact our politicians and vote and work for change, I feel jaded from so many past events that did not then bring the change I keep thinking must be forthcoming. I do know the city is collectively heartbroken. As I checked with some people to make sure they were at least physically ok, I thought of how it must have felt for those people who couldn’t answer such queries in the affirmative. I didn’t really want to begin an update with this, but at the same time it would feel like a glaring omission to say nothing. For the past few days I have been (un)working more at going with the flow of love and connection, especially with the girls. This tragic event boosts my intention, because a loving moment is so much more important than dishes. This requires time and again letting go of what I planned on doing in a given moment. 

Sarah and I had our most successful time at gymnastics in a long time. These days it is usually Carl who takes the girls and shadows Sarah’s group, but he is out of town. The times that I go are often fraught with tension between Sarah and me, her habits, and my grief that she is not somehow different. Not yesterday. Before class, I reminded her of our time last weekend avoiding the barking dog and the prickers. I told her we were on the same team for gymnastics. The few times she started to whine or bristle, I reminded her that we were on the same team and that she didn’t need to fight me. It worked. I had some fleeting moments of heartbreak watching her really not be able to do a bridge or cartwheel, but those were mightily outweighed by feeling at ease and connected. It was so nice to get through a class and not feel like I’d been through an emotional ringer or like the worst grumpy mom ever. 

Last night the girls and I went to a Halloween party at a neighbor’s house. We attend every year. This year Sarah participated in the games in a way she hasn’t in the past. Amy helped her in little moments and cheered her on. I feel like there has been a subtle but definite shift in some moments lately where Amy is stepping further into a helper role with Sarah. It is in such a peer/sister/friend way that it is beautiful. 

I forgot to write last time about when I went to pick Sarah up early from school one day. I have maybe met the principal twice since 2016. The secretary wasn’t at her desk so when I arrived the principal came out to meet me. Without asking me anything, he said he would go tell Sarah I was there. My jaw dropped. That is surely a sign of a connected and attentive principal. 

Sarah had a checkup with her neurologist on Wednesday. Since her appointment was in the middle of her school day I kept her home for the whole day. It was lovely to have the day together. We went to a bus shelter so she could see one of her favorite pictures. It is a Molyneaux ad with a kid that Sarah thinks looks like Amy wearing a green shirt with a green carpet in the background. She likes to talk about the kid and about the ad for hot dogs on the opposite wall of the shelter. She also enjoyed saying “zoom” as she ran back and forth pretending to be a bus. After her appointment, we went to the cafe in the hospital for Sarah-friendly chocolate milk and some pretzels and hummus. On the way out we stopped to look at the fish and at a train display. The children’s hospital could be a destination for the day! They have so many things to make waiting fun for the kids. It was hard to drag her away when it was time to go. 

Sarah has been making her own sunbutter and jam sandwiches, thanks to watching episodes of Fancy Nancy. 

We carved pumpkins yesterday. Amy made a pink cat pumpkin, carved with a cat face and then painted pink. Sarah made a sad-faced pumpkin. I helped with the carving and cleaning out the gooey insides.

For Halloween, Amy is dressing as a black cat and Sarah is going as Pinkalicious. If you don’t know who Pinkalicious is, trust me when I tell you that Sarah in pink and pigtails looks just like her.

October 21

We bought a Sarah-Rise house. It is a vacation house about an hour away from our home and it is beautiful. We absolutely fell in love with the giant open living space. The kitchen, living, and dining areas are really just one big room and then the bedrooms are off to either side. The house is surrounded by woods in the Laurel Highlands. We woke up to snow this morning. I’m only half joking to call it a Sarah-Rise house. That truly was part of the thinking that allowed us to do what otherwise feels a little crazy. We wanted a space that would feel like the large-scale equivalent of a Sarah-Rise room, where we can focus on being together more than we do at home when the pull of dishes and house crap is so strong. Anyway, this feels huge and strange and wonderful and exciting. The girls love it. Their room has two full beds but instead of each occupying their own bed, they decided to share. Remarkably, Sarah didn’t come to join us in our bed, which she does almost every night at home. The girls fought and played as they usually do, but fortunately this morning they played together happily for a long time while Carl and I packed to come home. They played crazy eights in their pretend hotel. 

Yesterday we wanted to go on a hike. By “we” I mean the adults. Amy was amenable but Sarah was adamantly, screamingly, cryingly opposed. She also really didn’t want to stay behind if Carl left. So. We attempted it while Sarah cried and screamed. To get to the path from our house we have to go through lots of plants, including many prickers. We made it but it was not easy. Sarah and I decided to go back to the house via a longer route of staying on the path to the road. We were almost back to our house, with Sarah still quite distressed. Then there was a dog. It was up ahead in the yard of the house we had to pass to get to our own. It was barking loudly and the size of the animal matched the bark. I had Sarah get into my arms. Then I admitted to her that I am scared of dogs too and that I really didn’t feel confident going past that dog because I couldn’t tell if it was restrained in any way. So, back we went along the path and then through the prickers. What was notable was that as soon as the dog moment happened, Sarah was calm. We were a team. We were facing adversity together. We made it back and all was well. That time together felt so good, so real, so connected and unforced. I also told her about the lengths I would go to when I was younger to avoid the dog next door, which was actually a nice dog (I assume) but it was large and stinky. The most direct way home from my bus stop led me past the house next door (we were in a twin house so when I say next door I mean, adjoining our house) and its dog. Sometimes I would go aaaaaaaallll theeeee waaaaaay arrrooooouuund aaaaa veeeeerrry looooooong blooooock to avoid the dog and approach my house from the other side.

It always fills my heart to hear or observe Carl playing with the girls. They made a rocket ship out of blankets and pillows and cardboard. All of them were on board for take-off. They also had a pillow fight when they were playing “hotel.” Did I mention that the girls’ room came with plaid sheets and striped comforters?!

I came to a decision over the weekend, during a moment of crying in the bedroom because things were feeling challenging. I noticed how often my thoughts range to wondering why Carl is with me, when I am feeling so fallible and full of the grumpitude that I’m embarrassed my kids emulate. This time I thought, “This %#(y! has got to stop! (if only I meant the grumpitude! but I don't) I am not going to ask that question again or doubt myself like that again. No one is perfect. We all have our challenges. Enough.” So that feels good. I may reach for that thought again, as one reaches for a light switch when the power is out, but I’m just going to have to turn the power off until the question goes away.

I don’t really remember much of the week prior to the weekend. Things have been much fuller than even our normal level of wonderfully busy, with all of my travel and classes and teaching and all of Carl’s travel, some of which starts tomorrow. Plus the new house and preparing to be there for the first time. I was quite proud of the number of small items I thought to bring, such as trash bags and hand lotion. So here we are. I feel incredibly blessed. 

October 14

I returned from England on Wednesday evening. The week of Alexander Technique study was incredibly wonderful. Navigating through London at rush hour on the Underground with my luggage was less than wonderful but I did feel good about accomplishing my end goals successfully. I will make different choices the next time around as to transportation, but I will also be a little less anxious about the whole process now that I know I can do it.

When I arrived at home, Sarah was upset that she couldn’t get in my taxi van. Then she was crying that she missed Carl, because he was with Amy for an event at her school. This was not exactly the “Welcome home, Mom!” that I was anticipating. It was quintessentially Sarah, but it still wasn’t what I had hoped for. Her teacher said that during the time I was away she was a bit sillier and less focused at school and that the day after I returned she was more focused again. I don’t know if this is random or if that was the way Sarah’s missing me manifested. Amy leapt into my arms and hung on like a koala as she told me that she loved me and missed me so much. Re-entry after a trip is always a bit of an adjustment. This time was no different. I have handled some of it with more ease due to what I experienced and learned in my week of training. I have also had two times of losing my *T%Y#! and I wonder if that is partly because the time away was so intensely wonderful that then the adjustment to whining, uncooperative children, (especially Sarah) is harder to deal with. I don’t know. I’m also teaching this weekend so I’m not around much and I think it would make things easier overall if the girls and I had more time together. I didn’t want to be busy so soon after being gone, but it was scheduled long before I decided to take the course in England. The good thing is that my class is going wonderfully and I’m able to incorporate my new learning even though it isn’t an Alexander class. 

There was a beautiful moment with Carl when Sarah said something about a subject they had covered repeatedly. Carl responded, “We already talked about that. Did you want to talk about it some more?” That was so kind and beautiful and wonderful and perfect! I love that it drew her attention to the repetition but in such a respectful way, allowing whatever she needed in that moment. Carl's creative kindness and presence repeatedly amaze me. 

What also amazes me is that Sarah and I can have so many rough moments and then repeatedly return to loving connection and snuggles. This morning when I went to give her her anti-seizure medication she asked me to snuggle with her and be a sad cat. At first I was going to say no because I had other things to do, but then I realized the folly of that and embraced having sweet time with her. I could label her as stubborn and uncooperative and screamy and annoying. I could also label her as sweet, spunky, kind, and endlessly patient as my teacher, giving me continued forgiveness for my parental short-comings. Maybe it is all of it together, with me giving her continued forgiveness as well. I know I move through all of these emotions and judgements often and I’m always reaching for the love and positivity and then losing it and then reaching for it again, etc.

Sarah has been watching episodes of “Fancy Nancy.” This has resulted in her saying, “Ooh, la la” regarding her food. She also now wants to unload and load the dishwasher and get it started with soap! This is wonderful, but it also means we need to be on our toes a bit because sometimes she adds dirty dishes to those that are clean and then starts the dishwasher. 

Amy’s school just had a fall festival and it was the first time at one of these festival events that I haven’t been a ball of stress. It was mostly easy and enjoyable. Overall, the girls are more independent and responsible. I think I am growing up too, realizing that I can trust them more to be farther away from me. Carl took them to get bus-building supplies yesterday and commented on how much easier it is to do such shopping trips with them now. The girls also can walk much farther without complaining. I know much of this comes with the territory of growing up, but I still want to celebrate it rather than sneeze at it.

October 7

I am having an amazing time in England studying with a wonderfully amazing Alexander Technique teacher. I am learning so much! He is taking something that looks and feels like magic and teaching us the refined components so we can do it too. I know that is what all of my AT training has been, but now I’m ready for this next level. I’m learning how to lead groups more effectively and how to work more effectively with my hands on an individual. Since this teacher was part of my original training, it feels like coming home, even when I am so many miles from home. He has a playful, loving, attentive joy in life, people, and teaching that is just beautiful. It is a gift to be learning from him. Again I extend the most enormous thank you to the people making this trip possible by taking care of the home front. 

Before I left for England... Sarah has gotten good at tying her school shoes in the new way! I color coded laces of big shoes of mine so she could practice without the pressure of a school morning. Then I got white laces for her school shoes and color coded them to match. Within a few days she was tying with confidence rather than frustration. 

The first time Sarah had to take a shower, you probably heard the deafening screams. Keep in mind that Sarah loves rain parties so this was a puzzling (if predictable) response. This was about a month ago. The following week there was not a scream to be uttered! The first time, when she was screaming, I stayed calm but still made her do it, and then reflected that I was a terrible person and shouldn’t have forced. When things went so smoothly thereafter I didn’t know what to make of things, but I’m pleased that we are where we are. 

It is so easy for me to see where I wish Sarah was and to despair. It is also easy to flip that and remember to notice how incredibly amazing it is that she can tie her shoes and play the piano while singing along! 

As with so many things in life, every new step can seem completely impossible until it is achieved and then it becomes humdrum. How amazing. 

Lots of love and amazingness to all of you. 

September 30

This week Sarah has been testing boundaries. I didn’t originally see it that way. I saw it as supremely frustrating and I didn’t know how to make things better. Sarah has been purposefully doing the opposite of what we say or purposefully ignoring us. This isn’t new, but it seemed like someone turned up the volume knob on it. This morning, Carl helped me see that we could frame it as boundary testing and that maybe she is on the verge of a breakthrough. We know that when Carl was growing up he would sometimes be more challenging and contrary right before a developmental breakthrough. Looking at Sarah’s behavior that way helps me feel so much better about everything. Carl also had the idea that we could think about ways we can give her more independence or talk to her more about events and transitions before they occur. I had been in a mode of basically holding Sarah at arm’s length, not wanting to engage or really be with her because it felt so difficult. I felt like I couldn’t reach my Son-Rise mentality for all I was worth. Now, with my picture of Sarah reframed, I have renewed energy to be with her, a true desire to be present with her. When I give a massage, I always think that it begins right before I knock on the door. It is in that moment that I reconnect with my whole self. This morning when I went to tell Sarah that her ipod turn was done, I felt that same kind of preparation. I felt love for Sarah (rather than dread or annoyance) as I approached the door. I felt connected to my whole self. That felt so much better. Now to remember that my time with my children begins right before I am actually with them. It is about making that choice to love being with them rather than tolerating them. Making that choice is easier when I am fed, watered, and feel that all is not lost on the parenting front.

At school Sarah has been disruptive in a big way in computer class for two weeks in a row. Her teacher and I agree that it makes sense to reduce the amount of time she is spending in the regular classes so she has more time in the Resource Room, where she gets more one on one attention and can also just have a break and do sensory play. Up until this decision she has been attending many of the regular fourth grade classes for their duration, including sometimes two in a row. Considering that, wow!! Holy moly. I am amazed that Sarah could do that and still be doing as well as she is doing. I appreciate her teachers and school program so much that they have the flexibility to realize this may not be working for her and that they can adjust things accordingly. This is the reason we picked the St. Anthony school program. They adjust per child in a way that feels nurturing rather than pejorative. It is also a good reminder to allow for more SR time at home, whether in the SR room or not. It’s about the mentality of being with her, giving her full permission in my heart to be as repetitive as she needs to be or just really be her full self without my fighting it. 

Sometimes I fight who she is, my grief at who she might have been and how our life might have been tightening my parenting so that everything is miserable. She can be passionately stubborn and contrary and screamy and whiney. She can also be sparkly and funny and sweet and amazing. I know it isn’t just my parenting that leads to one mode or the other, but when I am more relaxed and playful that certainly helps. When I love her truly and actively delight in who she is, that makes a difference. This morning I am just marveling at how everything in me could shift so much when Carl helped me reframe the situation. That is Son-Rise. It is about changing how we think and how that can ripple through everything instantly. It’s not about forcing ourselves or faking things. It’s about reframing so we can remember our love for our kids, our selves, our life. I am continually amazed at how much hard work it takes to learn not to work so hard at things!

As I write all of this I find it funny that I’m not with her in this moment. I have had moments of interacting, some of which were easy and some of which needed a reminder to myself to stay present and light, not falling back into my old patterns and frustrations.

Grammy and Granddad are visiting this weekend. My tension around Sarah has certainly been present thus far, influencing how I view their time together, so I’m hoping that today and tomorrow can be easier all around. I’ve been aware of how loud Sarah is sometimes and how much she hasn’t responded to us asking her to be quieter or not climb all over her grandparents when they aren’t ready. I do know the girls had fun dancing to music and watching Grammy dance too. Sarah has also enjoyed playing in their van. 

This Tuesday I leave for a week in England for continued Alexander Technique training. I’m not sure if I will write next week or not. Thank you a million times over to all of the people making this trip possible.

September 23

Why is she crying?

Because she is 7, and she is scared of dental work. 

Why is she crying?

Because she is 11, and she is learning to tie her shoes in a brand new way, and it feels too hard. 

Why is she crying?

Because she is 41, and she is frustrated by her children but feels that each failure of theirs is a failure of hers. 

Because parenting is hard. 

Because the cat doesn’t understand the concept of sleeping in. 

Because she is bad at getting her kids to practice their piano homework.

Because she wishes she didn’t express chagrin so often towards her children. 

Because she wishes she didn’t lose her sh*t so often (losing it being on quite a varied scale of intensity). 

Because she is slightly scared each night that her daughter might have another seizure. 

Because she is worried that her daughter who used to be failure-to-thrive is now eating more than her body seems to need. 

Because her daughter ignores her repeatedly. 

Because that daughter has come so far that every moment should be celebrated instead of having any tendril of frustration. 

Because the house is a mess. 

Because she is not as thin as she wants to be. 

Because people will judge her for struggling so frequently. 

Because she wants to be real and honest but also have people see her strength and understand that most of the time she really does have her sh*t together. 

Because she is embarrassed by the sustained love of those who see her at her worst.

Because if only she could do things differently…

----------------------------------------------------------------------

I actually am feeling quite good about things this morning. We have had a lovely morning of snuggles, piano practice, and making Halloween costumes. Yesterday was hard, and I had a hard cry in the bathroom, sifting through the above thoughts. I’ve been noticing how much I second guess myself and judge so many of my decisions up one side and down the other. I’m aiming to do this less often. Noticing is the first step. A few times this week I did succeed at just letting go of the judgement or worry about what I was feeding the children or doing with my time. The framework of the questions and answers came from Amy’s dental appointment to take care of some cavities. It did not go well, and we need to see a pediatric dentist to complete the work. The appointment began with her crying and the dentist perplexedly asking why she was crying. He was baffled. He wasn’t judging it, but he just couldn’t comprehend it. I couldn’t comprehend his confusion. It was so clear to me that of course she was scared and of course she would be crying! At first I was grumpy, but as I sat with the grumps I realized it was a gift of a question paired with my not judging the answer. I didn’t judge Amy at all. So…. what if I didn’t judge Sarah for her struggles? (That is harder. I have an easier time being soft towards crying than I do towards screaming.) What if I didn’t judge my own struggles but saw them as similarly obviously reasonable? (That is harder still but is really truly deeply the same thing as Amy’s situation.)

A few days before Sarah’s final OT appointment, I realized that the method they taught her for tying shoes doesn’t undo as tied shoes should. When you pull the two ends then the bow should magically dissolve. Hers turned into a box knot. Every time. Even when I did it. This is a method also taught via YouTube as some magical way of tying shoes. Except no one seems to realize that you need a grown up to help you undo the resulting knot. What is amazing is that when I explained this to Sarah’s wonderful OT she had me demonstrate the way I tie my shoes (which magically untie when you pull the ends) and she helped Sarah learn it. She helped me with ideas for how to mark Sarah’s laces. Sarah will have to undo her habit, but luckily we caught it before the habit became too entrenched. I taped her laces in specific places to help her with where to grab and where to push through. She only had one time of doing this since OT, and she was frustrated, but that is par for our course. I’m still hopeful in general.

On our way home from OT, Amy started making a list of the best moments (spelled “momits”) of her life. Item number one was Sarah’s last day of OT. Amy was so proud of Sarah. The list did not go beyond item number one.

One day Sarah donned Sc’s purse and said, “I’m the mailman. I’m broughting you a package.” The earnestness just broke my heart. That seems like a sophisticated error and was beyond adorable. 

The girls have had spelling homework this week. It has been wonderful watching them write out their words as I say them. Sarah has done her list perfectly each time (see, she, he, we, feet, …). Amy’s words are harder (these, safe, quote, about, again, also, cube, …) so have been a bit more challenging for her but we have had fun breaking them into easier bits to remember. 

Sarah’s new favorite picture is one of Carl riding a horse. Amy still doesn’t believe it is even him because he looks so different from usual. Sarah now likes to ride the arm of our couch, pretending to be Carl riding a horse. 

Thanks to wonderful suggestions from many of you after last week’s update (this is why it is good to share!), the girls now have their own mixing bowls, measuring cups, and measuring spoons. I intend to get them their own ingredients or have enough of my own that I don’t have to worry about scarcity. They have made many cupcakes and muffins, still with some of my help and input. I’m amazed at how easy it is to make palatable baked goods without a recipe. They aren’t amazing but they are sufficiently good. Sometimes the girls' love of baking leads me to feel out of control because it seems that they are mixing something every time I turn around, but I know in the big picture this is actually wonderful. 

Lots of love to all of you. Why are you feeling however you are feeling? Because you are you in this moment! May we all accept our feelings with the same protective assuredness of their validity with which I accepted Amy’s tears. May we all find such simple clarity in our muddy, complicated lives. Anyone want a muffin?