Something shifted on Saturday. We are in a new stage I cannot yet name.
(I'm sure it's in a book somewhere but it is really, really hard to read books about trauma when you are living with trauma even though obviously that's the key time to read those books. I know, I know.)
But, back to this shift in Jane...Theo and I took a trip out of town Wed-Fri while my mom came to stay with the kids.
(There was a great conference but also we just needed some time alone. I've never felt so depleted in my life as I have these past few months. So, we got a fancy hotel, ordered room service and/or slept every moment we weren't at the conference. Best thing we've ever done for ourselves and our marriage. Self-care is no joke, people. It's mandatory.)
I'd made a picture calendar and showed it to the girls a few days before we left and together we'd crossed out the days while I answered their questions but, still, I knew they'd be upset that we were gone. I knew we'd pay when we got back. I didn't know how.
Saturday morning the girls woke up to find us home. Much rejoicing. Less hyperactivity/anxiety/regression than I expected. That was a pleasant surprise.
Saturday afternoon the girls saw their therapist and at the end, when it was time to put away toys, Jane absolutely grieved. Her sadness was raw and real. She sobbed for the toys. She crawled up into my arms as I sat on the therapist's couch and wept till my shirt was soaked. The therapist and I just kept staring at each other over her head with big eyes going--wow! Oh wow. This is it.
I carried her out to the car. She sobbed great buckets all the way home. I carried her into the house. I scrambled to gather her blankie and pillow and then tucked us into her favorite chair. She was past the point of tears and into the hiccuping and yawning phase by then. She snuggled into me and told me every little thing she was sad about. She told me and told me and told me.
So much loss in her little life. Every tiny thing is too much now.
She asked me to rock her to sleep. This from the girl who never naps. I held her body, too big for my chair, and watched her try to drift to sleep but then watched as her body was shaken by tremors.
Each session lasted from 40-90 seconds and it'd begin with little twitches or rapid blinking and staring but then escalate until her arms were flailing...at which point this violent motion would wake her up. She'd look at me so mournfully, then sigh with exhaustion, and then roll over and try to find a new position to go to sleep. It took her about 20 minutes to fall asleep. I was so grateful when at last her body was truly still.
It's clear these episodes keep her from falling asleep--maybe this is why she hates bedtime so much? It reminded me of restless leg syndrome, which I've only experienced once as a side effect of a medication and it was maddening. Being so tired yet unable to lie still and rest.
Sunday was much like Saturday. Not nearly the amount of whining and regression I'd expected. In fact, remarkably, a shift to mature speech and calm manners that Theo kept noticing and pointing out. She was finally able to talk like an almost 4-yr-old and converse with us. It felt like we could explain an issue calmly and not have to go into high drama mode every 30 minutes.
Today was the same--while also horrible. She's mature and speaking clearly and having no potty accidents--while doing really devious things aimed at hurting and manipulating others.
Now, suddenly, her emotions seem very authentic. She reached out to me in fear just before her MRI last week for the first time during a medical procedure. She openly, vulnerably, mourned and sought comfort on Saturday. She angrily and deviously sought retribution against her sister whom she resents so deeply for every ounce of attention Katie has taken from her over the years.
It's not pretty but it's real. I do prefer this. (While mentally tightening my seat belt for what is going to be a new kinda bumpy ride.) I think this phase will feel less like living in a pinball machine. But I also think this phase will require extremely vigilant and intentional parenting to provide immediate consequences (good and bad) for each behavior.
She's ready to figure out how to live. I just don't know how long it's going to take and how hard it's going to be to teach her.
P.S. In other news, Katie was fine on Saturday, bitchy/angry (literally scowling at me) on Sunday, and regressed in potty training today. So, pretty much typical two-and-a-half yr old behavior after parents return. I often reflect to myself that Jane and Kate can do an almost identical behavior but whereas it's cute and authentic when Katie does it...it'd grate on my nerves when Jane did it. It's so very hard to define in-authenticity but I sure do feel it when I'm living with it.
James and Gus gave us big hugs and monopolized our time for a bit while they told us every important detail of our absence...and then moved on to normal life.
And, in totally other news, Seth finally got his driver's license and is now driving himself to/from his allergy shots amid back-to-school events. I can't believe we have five kids ages 2 to 17 in one household undergoing all these major life events simultaneously.
Hence my new motto: once-a-week meal prep and self-care are mandatory.
(I'm sure it's in a book somewhere but it is really, really hard to read books about trauma when you are living with trauma even though obviously that's the key time to read those books. I know, I know.)
But, back to this shift in Jane...Theo and I took a trip out of town Wed-Fri while my mom came to stay with the kids.
(There was a great conference but also we just needed some time alone. I've never felt so depleted in my life as I have these past few months. So, we got a fancy hotel, ordered room service and/or slept every moment we weren't at the conference. Best thing we've ever done for ourselves and our marriage. Self-care is no joke, people. It's mandatory.)
I'd made a picture calendar and showed it to the girls a few days before we left and together we'd crossed out the days while I answered their questions but, still, I knew they'd be upset that we were gone. I knew we'd pay when we got back. I didn't know how.
Saturday morning the girls woke up to find us home. Much rejoicing. Less hyperactivity/anxiety/regression than I expected. That was a pleasant surprise.
Saturday afternoon the girls saw their therapist and at the end, when it was time to put away toys, Jane absolutely grieved. Her sadness was raw and real. She sobbed for the toys. She crawled up into my arms as I sat on the therapist's couch and wept till my shirt was soaked. The therapist and I just kept staring at each other over her head with big eyes going--wow! Oh wow. This is it.
I carried her out to the car. She sobbed great buckets all the way home. I carried her into the house. I scrambled to gather her blankie and pillow and then tucked us into her favorite chair. She was past the point of tears and into the hiccuping and yawning phase by then. She snuggled into me and told me every little thing she was sad about. She told me and told me and told me.
So much loss in her little life. Every tiny thing is too much now.
She asked me to rock her to sleep. This from the girl who never naps. I held her body, too big for my chair, and watched her try to drift to sleep but then watched as her body was shaken by tremors.
Each session lasted from 40-90 seconds and it'd begin with little twitches or rapid blinking and staring but then escalate until her arms were flailing...at which point this violent motion would wake her up. She'd look at me so mournfully, then sigh with exhaustion, and then roll over and try to find a new position to go to sleep. It took her about 20 minutes to fall asleep. I was so grateful when at last her body was truly still.
It's clear these episodes keep her from falling asleep--maybe this is why she hates bedtime so much? It reminded me of restless leg syndrome, which I've only experienced once as a side effect of a medication and it was maddening. Being so tired yet unable to lie still and rest.
Sunday was much like Saturday. Not nearly the amount of whining and regression I'd expected. In fact, remarkably, a shift to mature speech and calm manners that Theo kept noticing and pointing out. She was finally able to talk like an almost 4-yr-old and converse with us. It felt like we could explain an issue calmly and not have to go into high drama mode every 30 minutes.
Today was the same--while also horrible. She's mature and speaking clearly and having no potty accidents--while doing really devious things aimed at hurting and manipulating others.
- Last night our new puppy pooped on the rug and I was mad at Gus for not cleaning it up and then shocked to find Jane smearing the poop into the rug with her foot, very intentionally making a bigger mess for him to clean up.
- This morning she hit James so hard on the top of his head with a train that it caused a huge bump (they never hit each other).
- This afternoon Katie got in trouble and was having a time out in her crib and I found her playing with a toy so I took it away while repeating the rule of no toys during time outs. Thirty seconds later I hear a musical toy from their room and go in to find two large toys inside Katie's crib that she's playing with. At first I was really angry at Katie for directly disobeying me and then I realized there was no conceivable way for her to reach those toys so Jane must've put them in there. She lied to my face four times even as I was physically demonstrating that Katie couldn't have reached the toys and then, the fifth time, with dire warnings to stop lying immediately, all she would do is shrug and say, "maybe I put them there?" Later in the day she calmly told me the whole story of intentionally putting them in Katie's bed to get Katie in trouble.
Now, suddenly, her emotions seem very authentic. She reached out to me in fear just before her MRI last week for the first time during a medical procedure. She openly, vulnerably, mourned and sought comfort on Saturday. She angrily and deviously sought retribution against her sister whom she resents so deeply for every ounce of attention Katie has taken from her over the years.
It's not pretty but it's real. I do prefer this. (While mentally tightening my seat belt for what is going to be a new kinda bumpy ride.) I think this phase will feel less like living in a pinball machine. But I also think this phase will require extremely vigilant and intentional parenting to provide immediate consequences (good and bad) for each behavior.
She's ready to figure out how to live. I just don't know how long it's going to take and how hard it's going to be to teach her.
P.S. In other news, Katie was fine on Saturday, bitchy/angry (literally scowling at me) on Sunday, and regressed in potty training today. So, pretty much typical two-and-a-half yr old behavior after parents return. I often reflect to myself that Jane and Kate can do an almost identical behavior but whereas it's cute and authentic when Katie does it...it'd grate on my nerves when Jane did it. It's so very hard to define in-authenticity but I sure do feel it when I'm living with it.
James and Gus gave us big hugs and monopolized our time for a bit while they told us every important detail of our absence...and then moved on to normal life.
And, in totally other news, Seth finally got his driver's license and is now driving himself to/from his allergy shots amid back-to-school events. I can't believe we have five kids ages 2 to 17 in one household undergoing all these major life events simultaneously.
Hence my new motto: once-a-week meal prep and self-care are mandatory.
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