Our Lady of Perpetual Vigilance

 I like to think it's a sign of healing that I'm beginning to get my sense of humor back. It's been two long years but I'm finally, finally, starting to feel more relaxed and fun around my younger kids. One thing that's helping is finally really discussing what I see with my husband. Cuz look! He just discovered there's a problem! Coincidentally, that discovery came after spending more time with a certain someone! What a surprise that enforced proximity has led to new awareness! Maybe two years of being the prime (sole) caregiver led me to make observations not available to those spending less than 5 minutes a day with certain someone. Maybe I was right all along and while dismissing all my complaints sure was convenient, it didn't actually help!

Well, now I've gone past humor and into snarky. I apologize. 

I truly am grateful my, "I'm leaving home until you decide to parent ALL the children" stunt last summer paid off. Only 3 days gone and a lot of good has come out of it for months afterwards now to give credit where it's due. But, I digress...

This week I had Parent/Teacher Conferences for Jane. Summary: she annoys the hell out of her teacher. I know I shouldn't be glad about this. I'm not. But I am relieved that her annoyances aren't all in my own head. 

After that talk with the teacher, in which the teacher struggled to articulate why her presence is so annoying, I've been trying to think of analogies to explain what her mannerisms do to those around her. Here's one. 

Imagine you're sitting at the dinner table with your family. Out of the corner of your eye you notice a family member put down their utensils, turn to look at you, and wait--still and patient--for your attention. Human nature is to turn to them because you realize they're politely asking for your attention so they can talk to you. The person has said nothing but their body language cues you to give them your attention. In normal events, this is a positive. 

Now, twist and warp that and make it a perpetual habit. Imagine that during every single thing you do--fold laundry, make dinner, read a story, do a craft, eat dinner--there's this wide-eyed person in hyper-alert mode, staring at you, trying to silently suck up your attention. Imagine that person's whole body is vibrating with tension, like a canary who has spotted a cat just about to pounce. Feeling stressed yet? Feeling annoyed? Imagine teaching a class of Kindergartners, whom you want to look at you and pay attention, but one of them is doing it wrong in ways you cannot explain?

Imagine feeling hopeless because it's really hard to explain subtlety to a 5yo and phrases like, "don't stare at me, but also pay attention during class" might not be sufficient to convey the problem.

Her jealousy pervades every moment of her life. She is jealous for my attention even while I am sitting next to her reading a book to her and her siblings. Instead of listening to the story, she is on hyper alert to make sure NOBODY else gets an iota more attention than she is receiving. 

So, to cope, we've nicknamed her, Our Lady of Perpetual Vigilance. This is how we refer to it when she goes into that mode. If nothing else it helps to share the emotional burden with someone else. And maybe someone can think of something to jar her out of that state. Sometimes that works. Sometimes.