Daily Archives: December 3, 2014

Day 52: Phone calls

Today was a tough day. It’s the week before Nutcracker, the week after Thanksgiving travel. Anxiety and disruption of routine, in spades. Boy had such a bad meltdown in his violin lesson that we had to pack up and leave (after his teacher left the room and I had to pin him down on the floor briefly). It started because Boy ‘has’ to start a song over again now and play to the end when he makes mistakes, and when his teacher asked him to stop playing, he refused. I’ve been worried lately about his behavior getting more compulsive; for instance, he plays a game where he hops around on one foot and can’t stop until he hugs me. If we try to stop him before he’s hugged me, he has a meltdown. We already knew we were going to make an appointment with a child psychologist after the holidays to seek help with the meltdown issues, so I was filing that stuff away to mention. But now I’m feeling more explicitly worried. When ‘real’ issues come up with the kids, I feel like I am often worried less about the thing itself, more about my desire to ignore things. I worry that I will not adequately address the problem. And I feel like that until I, well, address the problem. And that’s where I am right now. Sitting in my chair looking at a list of providers. Worrying that I won’t make those phone calls.

To be continued.

Day 51: Fairy forest

Today was the penultimate co-op day of the semester, and its annual craft sale.

As you might recall, Girl asked Santa for a ‘Toy Rainforest’ out of the blue yesterday, leaving me to wonder how on earth I might find something to satisfy that request. Well, as luck would have it, one of the families in our co-op makes fairy forests! How perfect is that?!

But I just spent hours putting together picture gifts on Shutterfly before the sale expired at midnight, and I am sad to say I can’t muster the mental wherewithal to remember much else that happened today.


Boy caught me shopping for stocking stuffers for them, and I made him laugh denying that I was actually his mom, and claiming that he must be mistaking me for someone else. And I got to hear Girl very bravely cross the hall holding hands with a friend and invite the (big girl) Brownies to their Daisy Garden Party (for which her Papa made cookies last night). In her very small quiet voice: Would you like to come to our party? 

We are so grateful for our co-op and all the wonderful people in it.

And for all the friends and family who help us in so many ways.