Gone and Back

I kinda lost my shit and left the state four days ago. I'm back already. Found my shit right quick and made it back, though only because Seth turned 18 today. If I hadn't woken up at 5am with the worst case of mom guilt EVER for voluntarily missing my eldest child's landmark birthday...well, I'd still be looking for my shit somewhere in rural Illinois. But, 18 years ago today...ugh, I can't even do all the maudlin thoughts mothers do on their children's birthdays. Too much. It's just too much.

So, in summary, we're all just sick of being cooped up together for months. Normally I'd be throwing the kids in the car every few days and driving off to some typical summertime funtime event. The fact that I can't do that--because the place is closed--or am scared to do that because every other stupid non-mask wearing person in the state will be there--is making me flat out miserable. I deeply crave slowly working my way through a trashy novel inbetween doling out snacks and sunscreen, while the children run themselves ragged under the sun before being trundled home to sleep for long 14 hour stretches to the drone of the window AC unit.

Instead it's just the same old same old day after day.

And then the fear of a second wave and second quarantine coming in the fall, locking us down still further...oh my gosh I absolutely had a full on panic attack and threw some clothes and a kid in the car and drove off. Kate got to go with me purely because she is the youngest and also most likely to wander away under Theo's lax supervision and go play in traffic. It was, honestly, only because I was certain I was avoiding a tragic accident that I could make myself take any of the children.

I was gone just a few hours after making the decision to go. It wasn't super fun at my sister's and mother's house. They are more chatty, after also being locked away for months, than I needed. What I really craved was a silent room and my pile of books, but it seemed churlish to announce I was coming and then refuse to talk to them.

My biggest dread hanging over me was the worry about what this sudden departure was going to do to Jane. Her face, when I told her I was leaving and taking Kate, was pure horror. Like, seeing her worst nightmare coming true right in the middle of eating her bowl of cereal. She couldn't comprehend it. But there it was. My suitcase, my words, my final instructions to the big people around her. She was frozen. Horrified. I could see her going numb.

I told her over and over that I was going back and when I'd call her but nothing got through to her brain.

I left anyway. It was, literally, like the need to put on my own oxygen mask first.

I called once, did a chaotic video chat with Jane and James, courtesy of Seth's phone. As soon as she clued into what I was doing Kate began to sob. Clung to me saying, "Don't leave me, mama!"

Good God?!? Where did that come from?? Obviously it was a total distraction and ended my video chat with J and J sooner than I would've liked. Note: Kate was pretty subdued during the whole trip. She didn't seem to really throw herself into the experience of having 1:1 time with me. She's just so thrown by anything different. Any break in the routine is hard for her. And I think she had a perpetual low-level fear that I was going to leave her down there and come home without her.

When I got home I stopped at the store and got balloons and picked up a cake I'd ordered that said Happy Birthday for Seth. We had Indian food (his favorite) delivered. I picked up a corny souvenir T-shirt for Seth that he genuinely grinned at when I showed it to him. I was feeling pretty good about pulling together a last minute party (because of course Theo's whole idea of a party is that they'd play a board game together, wow, don't work too hard at your party planning there, dude). And then I went to look for the candles. I always keep candles in this one drawer. Loads of them. Easily 18. Nope. I found two pink, two white, two green and a green number 3. Oh dear. I stuck one of the green candles in front of the 3 to make it, almost sorta, look like an 8 (after someone told you what it was) and stuck the other green in front of them to be the One and called it 18. That is the lamest candle configuration I have ever done. Seriously.

Luckily Seth found this equally hilarious. I mean, this is the kid who stuck his "Congratulations Graduate" yard sign from his high school out by the road even though they spelled his name wrong.

So, the bar is thankfully low for amusing this guy.

Everyone went around the table and said one nice thing about Seth until we'd reached 18 items. It was pretty sweet. The littles were super cute in what they thanked him for. The girls were factual: making them mac-n-cheese and putting on cartoons. James was amazingly fanciful: vivid descriptions of deep sea adventures they'd gone on to find exciting creatures (that apparently are happening in his imaginary world). Theo was sentimental. Gus was a jerk as only a younger teen brother can be. I was specific, since I'd been thinking about my list for the whole 100 hour drive home (nothing like traveling across three states with a 3 yr old with a bladder the size of a teaspoon).

So, the party was nice and clearly I had to come home for it and I'm glad I did. Before and afterwards Jane did exactly what I thought she'd do. First, she went crazy. Jittery. Stupid-silly. Baby-talking. Can't approach me even though she wants to. Staring at me nonstop. Then, she got worse: she roped Kate into joining her and they were circling the table like monkeys on meth. I sent them both to their room about 30 minutes after getting home just to help them settle down and remind them that rules are still in place.

To my surprise, they both emerged completely recalibrated. It worked! They settled down into normally happy kids who are excited but haven't lost their minds. The rest of the evening was good.

At bedtime Jane wanted to talk to me. She told me she wanted to talk about things she'd been thinking while I was gone. To my surprise she had a new story: a memory of her bio dad being mean to her, her bio parents fighting, the police being called, the police circling around and around her bio mom but Jane couldn't hear what they were saying. Is this the final memory? Is this the day the girls were taken away?

She gave me almost no detail. I wrote above almost verbatim what she said to me. I don't know how her bio dad was mean to her, for example.

And then she was done with that and she went on and talked about a host of other things. It was a random list of every thought she's had during the four days I've been gone. The interesting bit, to me, came at the end.

The more she talked the more she dropped the baby-talk. By the end she was speaking normally and she told me that the reason she used to be naughty is because she was angry. I asked what she was angry about. She said she was angry that I used to give Kate lots more attention than her.

First, I thanked for her telling me why she was angry but then I corrected her. I walk a fine line between devaluing her memories and correcting inevitable mis-perceptions due to age. But, I won't let her tell and retell herself a pity party casting herself as a victim in her own life. So, I gently corrected her and acknowledge that yes, it felt like I spent more time with Kate but that's because she always got so mad each time it happened. In fact, I always have spent equal time with each kid. She stayed right with me in the conversation and was able to understand the nuance between reality and perception, especially when strong emotions are involved.

So, in the end, I'm pleasantly surprised. While there will be some re-adjusting over the next few days and the need for lots of extra touch and reassurance, tonight's honest and genuine conversation gives me hope that Jane is becoming able to articulate her feelings rather than act them out. And, while she did act the fool when I first got home, she recalibrated herself much quicker than I thought her able to do.

I was afraid to go and drove myself crazy before I let myself take this break. I guess that was silly. Maybe I should've been doing at least small breaks regularly. For everyone's sake. Gus, for one, was positively thrilled that I left for awhile and is already pushing for my next exodus. At least his shittiness is developmentally appropriate.