Mouse poop! In the Sarah-Rise room. Nooooooooooo! Why on earth would a mouse choose the closet shelf in the SR room for its bathroom?! Now I have to clean it and set a trap and check our various food items in the kitchen cabinets to see what it is eating. It is times like these when I really miss having a cat. If Sarah wasn’t allergic to cats, we would have a cat.
I feel like Sarah has been watching me and trying to copy me more at certain moments: when I pretend to wash my hands (mirroring her actual washing) and when eating pizza. This seems to help her do a more thorough job with hand washing and to not dump the toppings off the pizza. She usually eats foods upside down, but on Monday she watched me eat a piece of her pizza, which had loose Daiya shreds, and then she tried it with her pizza right-side up, after she replaced the shreds that had fallen.
Sarah doesn’t let me read books to her much anymore but she does like to read books out loud to herself. I’m guessing it is a combination of actual reading and knowing most of our books very well. This week I recycled all of our word cards from when we taught Sarah to read. I felt slightly sad parting with them because I had so many memories of making the cards and going through them with her, but she is done with them so it was time.
Monday was a day off for Sarah. I took her to R, an MT who specializes in gentle trigger point work. He was able to work with her while she was in various positions and even when she gave me a chin press. It reminded me a bit of Anat Baniel lessons. At one point she held a stuffed animal he had and started giving the animal a massage. She said she was pretending to be R. She also said gleefully that the stuffed animal was sad and that its head and tail were down.
Sarah’s hearing is back to normal but seasonal allergies are keeping her eyes itchy and puffy even when she is on medicine.
Sarah is allowed to wear shorts to school when it is warm enough and she insisted on wearing the pair with a button instead of a snap. Wow. She also has been buckling her own seat belt in the school van with minimal or no help.
The girls had their first official swim lesson yesterday. It was just the two of them and the instructor, although there were many other people in and around the pool. Amy did everything the instructor suggested, all of which was playfully and wonderfully done. Sarah didn’t want to do anything requested of her. She just wanted to go up and down the steps to the pool and play on the handrail. I was impressed with how the instructor continued to attempt to engage her but didn’t ever force anything. I’m hoping she will be ready to try more next week. I will also come prepared to get in the water myself, which is usually not allowed, but the instructor and support staff could easily tell that we do not have a usual situation. I felt entirely welcomed and supported.
After the swim lesson we went to an event at Amy’s school. I knew it would be challenging to be on my own with the two girls, and it was. What ended up happening was that I stayed with Sarah who stayed on the steps to go up and down, up and down, up and down. I let Amy go off to see some of her friends and teachers. I even gave Amy $1 to go get something from the bake sale by herself. She looked at the dollar and then at me, asking, “what do I do with this?” I explained and she managed. She also spent a lot of time with one of her best friends and his dad. It is interesting to notice as we continue to move into Amy being the older and more responsible of my children. I always think that each girl gets to be both the older and the younger sister depending on the situation. I don’t know when Amy and I will have a big discussion about Sarah and why she is as she is and what that might mean. So far Amy hasn’t asked. I don’t know if this is because she hasn’t fully noticed how different Sarah is from most 10 year olds Amy encounters or if we have done such a good job of normalizing that this is just our life and that Sarah just needs some extra help with things that Amy somehow understands.
I’m assuming Amy spent a past life living in Downton Abbey or some such situation that required changing outfits for each new event and that dressing for dinner was customary. She wanted to have a picnic on our front walkway and dressed as a princess for the event.
Sarah and I found a kit at Target for making a ball pit, but we greatly underestimated the number of balls needed to fill it. As luck would have it, when a friend of mine saw the picture on Facebook she offered to give us a ton of balls. She also gave us a huge bag of princess dresses. The girls are both in heaven. And I found the entire floor of the SR room covered in balls this morning.
This week I was appreciating the time that Amy and I spend together when Sarah is at vision therapy or occupational therapy. We get to play more games than we do at home, probably because I’m not feeling pulled by dishes, laundry, and food preparation.
On Thursday I had an amazingly good SR time with Sarah. She was wearing her new cat pajamas that Grandma made and she told me that the cats were sad. I meowed sadly. She wanted me to blow my nose on her socks or pant legs or shirt. I did. I meowed sadly over and over. I varied my meow. Then she said the cats were grumpy so I grump-meowed, pretending to enumerate complaints on my paw. Occasionally the cats were happy. Mostly I spent 30 minutes being a sad or grumpy cat, figuring out new ways to show my emotions through meows. I loved it when I would vary something slightly and then get a bigger laugh from Sarah as if she really noticed and appreciated the change. It felt good to be so connected and in the moment with her. I haven’t been that focused and on in a while. On Friday she was very on during her time with G, saying new things and not isming. I wonder if my focused time within her ism helped her stretch that little bit or if it was just that she has her different modes. This morning her words were also quite clear, notably clearer than some moments of late.
With all of the awesome tiny moments, there has also been a lot of screaming on Sarah’s part. There always is. It usually doesn’t last long and some days have more than others. I have been thinking about how it is as regular and predictable as rain in Ireland and so perhaps I could be as prepared. I just don’t always have my yellbrella or screamcoat ready. So I may respond patiently, creatively, and kindly half of the time, but the other half I don’t or even if I do on the outside I feel myself wearying on the inside, always thinking that if I could just respond differently or feed her differently then it would all go away. I think this undercurrent of self-blame probably isn’t helping my energy or clear thinking. It feels hard sometimes to walk the line of open questioning of my actions without judging them. The judging doesn’t often result in making changes so perhaps I could experiment this week with just knowing the scream rain is coming but not blaming myself for it.
Thursday and Friday were non-stop days for me. All good things, though some punctuated with screams, protests, and whining, uncooperative children. Carl was gone most of the week and the day he got back I was working late so we barely saw each other until Friday evening, at which point I was past my limit. I reached my limit at the event at Amy’s school as I wished I didn’t have to stay glued to Sarah and that she didn’t have to stay glued to the stairs. It was cold and I was tired and hungry. Today felt challenging around gymnastics, the messy house, going to a spring carnival, and just mothering in general. When we got back from the carnival Carl took over and I have been in recuperation mode ever since, resting more, doing less, and all snuggled up in my warmest bathrobe. The girls are asleep, the house is quiet, and I am beginning to breathe more fully again.
Lots of love to you all and an extra big thank you to those who help me regain my equilibrium.
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