Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Follow up to the last post - sooooome drama has been abatted. I worked in Edie's classroom on Monday, and will continue to do so until I find work and can't do it anymore. Am I helicoptering my child? I dunno, maybe. She's just so damn smotherable. I guess I need to feel like I'm doing everything I can to help her through this rough patch. Besides, I get to wear a special badge and pinney with a big orange X on it identifying me as a volunteer. That's pretty special, don't deny it. That being said, when I did volunteer on Monday, I did hear a couple of kids invite her to play with them and she shyly declined. When I asked her about it she said she would rather hang out with the recess monitor because she (Edie)is her official helper. I introduced myself to the helper (identified by the special pinney and badge, I hope I look as cool as she does) and she is a lovely woman, kind and warm and I get why Edie feels safe with her. Maybe Edie is networking in her own little way, attaching herself to an authority figure, who kids flock to at recess, and Edie gets to meet them this way, slowly, on her own terms.

I did observe in the Grade 1 classroom The Table though. Oh you know it girlfriends, the table of 4 girls who form that exclusive club that is oh so difficult to break into. They just have that air about themselves, they are the "It" girls and they know it. I don't think Edie realizes these girls are mean girls yet; she did try to sit at their table but she was shooed away (I managed to retract my claws, forked tongue and medusa hair JUST in time) but Edie did seem unfazed by them and moved to a different table fairly seamlessly.

I think I have figured things out though. In Ottawa Edie grew with her friends from daycare, preschool to public school. Same kids from the beginning. Edie is quirky, no doubt about it, but that is all her friends knew about her, so they were accustomed to her and accepting of it. If Edie wanted to sit in a corner and talk to imaginary unicorns and spread glitter all around, it was fine. If the next day she wanted to join in on that game of hide and go seek, perfect. That's just Edie. Maybe it is just going to take a bit of time before things settle. Meanwhile, I need to diplomatically teach her that mean girls=suckage, confident unique girls=awesome.

I promise in my next post I will be back to blogging about what a crappy mom I am and how much wine I drink, pinky swear promise!

Thursday, January 12, 2012


When I was brushing Edie's hair this morning, she looked in the mirror and burst out crying "I don't like myself!" and the tears flowed and she crumbled into my lap, burying her head into my neck and sobbed. I couldn't get the reason for the breakdown out of her, she just repeated that she just doesn't like herself very much. Fighting back my own tears, I cooed all the things a Mommy should say, how wonderfully smart and funny and amazing she is. Shhhh shhhhh you are so very special and so many people love you.

She eventually calmed, the bus long gone at this point. Grace, Edie and I cuddled on the couch and read a Fly Guy book (always good to put a smile on anyone's face) and the sadness was over. I drove them to school, looking in the rearview mirror for hints of sadness, depression or anxiety in her beautiful, beautiful eyes, but there were none.

The knots have not left my stomach yet. I have not battled depression or anxiety for awhile now, but I will always remember what it felt like. And to hear my little Edie utter those words, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I would take that punch over her suffering any ill thoughts against herself.

I fought back more tears when she came home today with this picture:

Toughest. Job. In. The. World.

Thursday, January 05, 2012

I am either the worst parent in the world, or the best. And I'm really not sure which it is.

My kids love me. They adore me. And I have discovered since being a homemaker, and being home with them over the Christmas "holidays" (the word holiday to a stay at home mom, is just effing cruel), that my children really dig me. They like me so much that I can barely raise an eyebrow without them asking me "what are you doing why did you do that are you leaving the room? can i do what your doing? i'll just sit here with you do you want play a game? i'll go outside if you go outside, what should I wear today you pick it out! do you like this show I'll like it if you like get the picture. They have made friends in the hood and at school, which is great, but at the end of the day they want me. I should be eating this up. I should be tickled that they adore me so much. But I hesitate to think it is because they think that I Am The Best. I think I traumatized them somewhere along the way and they fear abandonment for some reason. I can't remember abandoning them ever, and no, weekly date nights don't count. But they seem angsty when they think I'm going disappear on them. I don't drink THAT heavily that I would have accidentally abandoned them somewhere, so where is this coming from? I can't blame the move, because they have always kind of been this way, but I'm noticing it ten-fold now that I am home with them. Huh. June Cleaver or Mommy Dearest? I really don't know which tattoo to get.