Fairly Odd Kids

The graduate

August 23, 2012

Tonight we said goodbye to our beloved babysitter who leaves for college this week.

M. moved next door when she was seven and has been one of our very favorite people ever since. She leaves for college this week—thankfully only an hour away. But, it’s hard. Watching her grow up has only made me realize how quickly these years pass. A few years ago, when she drove down the street in her father’s car for the first time, I quite literally burst into tears at the shock of seeing this little girl driving a car.

Yes, I’m aware of the irony: She has been taller than me since she was 15.

We love M. for many reasons, but I’ll sum it up with this: She has always made my children feel like they are the most fun kids on the planet. She truly seems to enjoy their company and has never made them feel like she is “only” their babysitter. Even tonight, in between going to see her friends and packing, she made a special visit to say “goodbye for now” to the kids before their bedtime.

For Belly, she is like an adored big sister. I used to joke that if M. and I were in a sinking boat, and Belly could only save one of us, she’d really have to think about it.

Jilly shows, quite literally, how she feels about M. by wrapping herself around her like a monkey clinging to its mama. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to peel Jilly off of her. And while Jilly’s love can, well, hurt in its intensity, M. is so, so good and patient with her.

And then finally, there is D, my goofball who has little games he plays only with M. “Make the cute face!” she asks, and after joking around, he gives her his giant-eyed, puppy-dog look. She yells, “I’m coming to get you now cutie!” and he screeches delightedly and runs away.

Oh we’ll miss our girl next door. Thankfully she will be able to come home a few times a semester. I know three kids who will be at her doorstop.as soon as they see her car.

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Deep thoughts, according to a seven year old

August 10, 2012

From my son:

So when someone says, “I love you with all my heart”, that means they hate everyone else right?

You guys. . .you GUYS. . .he is now like this ALL THE TIME. He’s my own personal Jack Handy. The little boy who didn’t say three words at two, or ten words at four, is now always, always talking.

You should’ve heard the conversation we had about corn on the cob at the Farmer’s Market. It went on for so long that the woman standing nearby had to laugh at how often one little person could ask whether or not there would be worms in our corn.

This gift for gab is definitely a “my side of the family” trait. Oh, he has definitely inherited it. And then some.

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Anxiety and the sleepover

July 14, 2012

Some of you may remember my summer two years ago (otherwise known as “The Lost Summer“) when our confident, friendly, outgoing daughter morphed into an anxious, angry, isolated child who couldn’t cope with life. It was an awful time for our family, but we learned a lot about anxiety disorder and came out of things with a great therapist and our “old” daughter back.

Well, maybe not entirely back. The thing about anxiety is that it never goes away completely like a head cold or sunburn. Instead, I find that we deal with hurdles put in front of us differently.

In the past, if my daughter had been anxious, I might get frustrated or just tell her “you’ll be fine” and move on with things. But after that summer, I learned that she needs someone who will talk about her feelings, validate them as real, but not let her give in to them.

The way I put it last week: When faced with something “scary” in her eyes, her first response is “flight”—get away from it as fast as she can. Our job as parents is to help her face the anxiety and see that it’s largely something in her head and not truly a scary situation.

In other words: Flight from a burning building? Good! Flight from a hard math test? Not good!

And flight from a sleepover with friends in a safe home with people I trust? Not necessary!

But, when I got her first text at 9:14pm on Wednesday, I knew that she was trying to fly home. “Mom, I’m getting hot. And a little scared” was all she wrote.

I picked up the phone and for almost an hour, we talked. We talked about how I WOULD get her if that is what she wanted, but that I knew that she was going to be okay. That she was not in harm’s way (her therapist’s favorite saying), and that she would be so proud of herself if she got through these feelings. That bedtime is always the hardest time for her. But that her friends would love her whether she stayed or left.

After about 30 minutes, feeling like I was pushing too much, I said “OK, pack up your stuff. I’ll be there in a little while.”

“No, wait. . .” she quickly said. And then I knew. She wanted to stay but didn’t think she was strong enough to do it.

We hung up shortly afterward, with the understanding that she would text me from the iPad I lent her until she felt like she would be okay. These screen shots capture her words on the left, and my ridiculous “let’s keep things light!” texts on the right. The first two lines of hers are mentioned above. I pick up the typing at 10:01 with some inspirational rap. And the Harry Potter reference is because they were watching the last movie in the series while she typed.