Skip to main content

Dental Work, Babytalking, and Naming Emotions

 

This morning Jane had her third dentist appt. They had to insert a spacer. It was painful. She's gone every 2 weeks for a total of 3 trips now.

After the first two trips I could see she'd been crying (they don't allow parents back there) when she came out to me. I mentioned it and gave her a hug but she shrugged it off; wouldn't talk about being upset. On the car ride home she plays frenetically with the trinkets they give the kids, while baby-talking, till she breaks them.

On the way home from today's visit I knew she had to be in pain since they'd told me she would be. I asked something along the lines of, "does it hurt?" and she denied it.

So, I rephrased. "Jane, I noticed you are baby-talking. I wonder if you're doing that because you want comfort and attention from me after this scary thing just happened to you?"

She said yes and started to cry! (to my surprise; it was a radical 180 switch in her behavior from loud/silly/play to really sad sobbing) I asked if she wanted to tell me about what had happened. She talked the whole way home! (she's never given any details before)

The first thing she said was, "I wanted you! I called for Mama!" So I explained that parents aren't allowed back there. She hadn't known that. We went over this 3 times--it was an important detail and I reassured her I would've been there if I could've been both in the car and after we got out, while hugging her.

So, my lesson from this is that she almost can't identify her emotions until they are named for her. Like she needs permission by someone naming them first. Just asking, "are you scared?" will result in a no. But saying, "I would be scared if that happened to me," allows her to admit being scared.

I'm relieved to have figured this out because I've long thought the silly/loud/babyish behavior is just a cover for other emotions she can't let herself feel or express. But, I never understood before that I have to go first and name the feeling. That felt wrong to me--like I was leading her to make a false statement by telling her what I wanted to hear.

I guess I need to trust my instinct that I do know what she's feeling and if I can give her permission to name them that'll open the floodgates and let it all out.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Flash Fiction - Guilt Free

And this one I wrote for the fun of it. It was delicious to wallow in such a world of self-indulgence I'll never know. This is flash fiction (less than 1,000 words). Guilt Free It was fudge sauce, thick and cold from the back of the fridge, dipped in gourmet raspberry jam—the kind from France with the understated label—straight onto a spoon and then suckled in my mouth, a frosty mug of milk tremoring faintly in my left hand, to be gulped in indelicate swaths allowing a dribble or two down my front, the first time I hit her. Not really hit. Shoved. A forceful push. A push that began with contact. The contact of my hand wedging so neatly between her small sharp shoulder blades, wedging in so that I almost could not retract myself from the catapulting force launching her into the tub. Not a hit—there was no smacking, cracking, sharp stinging rebound. No bruise. She’d laughed. She’d thought it was a game. Like when I clapped my hands together as she went up the stairs, cla...
Post a Comment
Read more

Teaching "ouch"

I taught the girls to say ouch. When they first came to me their hair was a mess. Snarls, mismatched lengths where sections had been hacked off, thin and coarse hair that tangled in every hair clip I tried, etc. Due to a healthy diet and daily vitamins, as well as good hair products and regular brushing, their hair is now sleek and glossy. Jane has a cute haircut. Kate's hair is growing longer every day and curling into ringlets that bounce. I was so afraid of hurting them when they first came! I have naturally curly hair and my mother's is stick straight. She never understood how much it hurt when she pulled the brush straight through. I haven't let her touch my head since I could do my first clumsy pony tail. (At first, I held their hair so loosely while trying to do it that every single pony tail fell out minutes after going in. Looking back I feel like those people who don't know how to put a diaper on and it falls off when they lift the baby up!)  But eve...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Stuff of Nightmares

For the past few months I've had this weird sleep pattern happening a couple times a week. I'm super tired and go right to sleep and continue to sleep for about 30-40 minutes. Then, I come rushing awake with my heart thumping, gasping for breath. My mind is flooded with anxiety about some tiny, specific thing like when you've already left for the trip but suddenly remember the crucial thing you forgot that absolutely must, somehow, be retrieved. I'm so anxious--and sleep-addled like when you can't fully come out of a nightmare--that it takes me 1 to 3 hours to go back to sleep. All the while feeling desperately tired and then angry that I can't get back to sleep. Because being angry sure is a relaxing way to soothe a tired brain to sleep. Yesterday we got a call from the Guardian ad Litum (the attorney for the girls). It was a brief check-up as it always is. He asks no questions beyond his first "how's it going"; wants few details. But, he is u...
Post a Comment
Read more