Something is happening with Jane. She is, like the Velveteen Rabbit, becoming...real. Real emotions, genuine reactions revealed instead of hidden, seeking physical comfort, stating her need with the expectation of having it met.
These things are happening in the tiniest of ways. Just little moments once a day. One quick choice to take a different path she's never taken before. A moment as quick as the blink of an eye but still, I see the change.
For example, during the last two weeks, when I've picked her up from school there have been 2 or 3 days where she has looked distressed at pickup. Worry or fear, it was written there on her face, though I didn't know what or why. (Previously, her usual demeanor, would've been an artificial display of happiness--too much, too fake, too plastic, like a Disney character every damn day.)
On these days when distress is written on her face, I have waited till we are alone and then asked her what was wrong. She always lies first. I ask her again. Sometimes she lies again (depending on how many excuses she can think of in that moment). But today she told the truth about a tiny thing that only revealed a sadness about something missed. She cried real tears over her disappointment. I comforted her and thanked her for telling the truth. We stood on the porch and she leaned into me and I rubbed small circles on her back and kissed the top of her head.
In the past if she has gotten all the way to crying then it's because she was going to get in trouble. She rarely cries over these small disappointments. (Previously, she would've been passive aggressive and pissy-mad about being disappointed and sought to punish me hours or days later. No tears, but a hardness to the set of her mouth that showed she blamed me for her loss.)
I admit, I feel awkward. She doesn't really like to be touched. We have never gotten into the practice of touching. But there she is, crying, so I go through the motions. It feels both right and wrong at the same time. The right idea; but awkward execution. She is stiff in my arms. Leaning just her forehead in against my belly, never putting her arms around me. I try to touch her in ways that I can only hope are right because she has never yet told me what she wants. She has never yet signed and relaxed and leaned in. I try to touch firmly enough, but not too hard. Rubbing just between her shoulder blades in the least annoying, most neutral, place I can. Adding a kiss to the top of the head to make it a motherly hug.
So, I guess it's springtime. All my children are changing. James and Kate are growing before my eyes. Their vocabulary is exploding and their independence and curiosity and sense of humor are nonstop entertaining. They are like daffodils, exploding out of the ground overnight and waving bright, shiny faces at the sun. They are taller, growing right out of their clothes, and so confident. Leaving toddlerhood and becoming big kids.
My 14 yr old is so stereotypically teenager I don't even want to comment. Lest I write words I will someday regret. Of course, at moments he can also be sweet and mature and helpful and amusing and insightful and all the good things. Leaving childhood and moving closer to the adult he will be someday.
Then...Jane. Always out of step with the family. Not quite regressing but in a strange stage all the same. Perhaps like a plain white chicken egg before--cold and hard and featureless and indistinguishable, rolling away or rolling towards but always wobbling just out of grasp. Now, it's as if she's hatching. Just starting to peep and peck a hole in her own shell. She'll have to hatch on her own; she won't tolerate any help. She'll only remove her shell in her own time. But, maybe she's giving me glimpses of the adorable and fluffy chick she's on her way to becoming. Cute and cuddly and unique with a personality all her own. It just might be there after all.
I have absolutely no idea why this change is happening. I don't know if this is two steps forward and one step back. I don't know if she'll stagnate and stay at this stage forever. But it feels good to see progress.
Oh springtime, how we need you after the long winter of our discontent.
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