How do I convince my daughter of that when I am living proof that indeed some moms leave?
Schnuggling before a nap recently, she asked me if I loved my Mommy and Daddy. (Red flags raised..she never mentions my Mom even when I talk about her) Of course, I said yes. She continued to ask, "Who's your Daddy?" (She knows full well the answer to this since we play this game often enough) "Papa" I answered with a smile. Then, she asked a question that I knew was coming but it still totally threw me for a loop.
"Who's your Mommy?"
"Well, my Mommy is 'Bunny'." I replied stiffly, waiting for her next question that was inevitably coming.
"Where is Bunny? My grandma?"
Here we go....
In my head I'm screaming, "I'm not ready for this" repeatedly...over an over. "She's only 3 years and 5 months old! 41 months! How has this concept entered her head so soon? How do I answer her?" "She may not be too young to ask the questions but she is too young to comprehend the answers..."
I began to tell her that Bunny, her grandma, my Mommy is in Heaven. (A concept I'm not too sure of myself...but I was thrown and caught off guard.)
She asked me if I missed her and again, if I loved her and was I sad that she was not here?
How the hell does she do this?
I told her I do miss my Mommy terribly because she isn't here with me and I love her and I wish she was still here with us. I told her I was sad because she never got to meet her and I just know she would love her... the conversation went on for a few more minutes before The Girl told me "Not to worry because I'll make you feel better!" She said it to me. To my face. 3.5 years old. She even punctuated it with strong, neck-hugs! I am floored!
Then, she wouldn't let me leave her. She screamed bloody murder like I died a thousand deaths right in front of her, "Papa, Bunny, Mamma...Don't leave me!" "I'm scared you'll leave me!" "Mamma come back, don't leave me alone!"
Heartbreak.
Sheer shattered chest muscle.
You're not breathing, J. Breathe.
As I sat there rocking her close to my chest trying my damndest not to smother her with my kisses and trying even harder to convince her that I would never leave her and I will be her mommy forever...I felt guilty.
What if I do leave her?
What if I make her a motherless daughter?
I'm lying to her face.
How will she forgive me for telling her moms don't leave? When they do.
She is too young to be worried about this. She is too smart to not figure it out. She is too sensitive to forget this conversation any time soon.
I am sad that I have left her a legacy of loss and fear of being left alone by mother.
How could I do this to her?
How do I help her understand?
How do I rest her fears?
...Assure her that I am here for her...until she is older and better able to understand...that moms may leave this earth, but they can never be taken from your heart.
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Second Home
My classroom always felt like my second home to me and to my students. It had to. I wasn't comfortable otherwise. I had bean bag chairs on the rug in the reading corner and pictures of all the students family members up on the walls (including my own). We had rules and schedules to follow but it was all pretty cool and together.
My kids and I were comfortable and learning and communicating and it always felt like they were a part of me for the 10 months that I had them all to myself. We were respectful and cooperative (most of the time) and we tried very hard to be 'good citizens' in our classroom and school community.
I looked forward to going to our classroom and spending quality learning time in there. It was ours. We respected it and tried to keep it pretty. (As pretty as you could get in a NYC classroom...grey concrete isn't always that luscious.)
Once in a while, we'd have a practice fire drill where we'd have to line up quickly and evacuate the premises as quickly and quietly as we could. It was all very routine for all of us. We had it down to a science. But if faced with the rush of a real fire, would we be able to evacuate safely?
I always had the Columbine Tragedy etched in my memory. It was still a fresh wound in our teaching-hearts. And it made me more aware of the terrible things that people do in desperation. But this was my home. Nothing could happen in my home.
Early one morning, I was called by my principal on the "bat phone" (we used to call it)...He spoke calmly and asked me to please remain calm while he asked me if I had any family in the Twin Towers. I calmly uttered 'no' while he quickly instructed me to act as if nothing was wrong and to please close the window shades and doors and keep the kids calm and IN THE ROOM. (The towers were visible from MY room.) No bathroom trips, no unexpected trips to the yard for an art experiment and no discussing the collapse and attack of the first Tower.
I remained calm. It was all too surreal to act any differently.
I only knew these kids as my own for one and a half days. It was first period and we were right in the middle of a "Getting to Know You Conference". We were all sitting on the floor with the desks shoved in the corners. Giggling and laughing about one kid's pet Chinchilla and his dust baths. Then the shit hit the fan.
People running through the hallways and talking loudly in a panicked tone prompted the kids to question the commotion. (They were sixth graders and street smart..they knew something was up). I waited until word from my Principal to say anything and while immigrant kids were being escorted out of the building by extremely frightened parents, I began to discuss the matter as openly and calmly as I could with the kids. It was scary.
We had an emergency assembly with the remaining students and had to wait until about 6pm until all the kid's parents were present and accounted for. Surprisingly 'only' one little kindergartener lost her Daddy that day in the entire school. (One too many in our school family)
We were in a state of panic.
After that. It just wasn't ever the same.
Emergency lock downs were practiced and bomb drills were rehearsed on a weekly basis. They are not the same as a fire drill I assure you.
Locking two classroom doors, covering all the windows and remaining mouse-quiet with 30+ children at the back of the room while you wait for the 'secret code' to come over the loudspeaker to let you know the intruder is out of the building or being detained is scary stuff. That I can promise you.
Yes, they were only drills. However, they were constant reminders that things have changed. The once homey classroom felt like a prison that we couldn't escape in the clutches of terror if need be.
I saw the kids differently after that. They had their own lives to live and families to protect them. Who was I? I was just a scared and newly-wed woman who wanted to go home to her own family, but whose responsibility was to protect her young charges. Could I? If faced with such a tragedy as the other day at VA Tech., could I protect my students if their life depended on it?
I pray that I could.
I send all of my love to those families from Virginia. And those brave and honorable teachers who lost their lives trying to protect their students. In an institution that is supposed to be a safe-haven and a second home, it was invaded and lives were taken. I am reeling.
My kids and I were comfortable and learning and communicating and it always felt like they were a part of me for the 10 months that I had them all to myself. We were respectful and cooperative (most of the time) and we tried very hard to be 'good citizens' in our classroom and school community.
I looked forward to going to our classroom and spending quality learning time in there. It was ours. We respected it and tried to keep it pretty. (As pretty as you could get in a NYC classroom...grey concrete isn't always that luscious.)
Once in a while, we'd have a practice fire drill where we'd have to line up quickly and evacuate the premises as quickly and quietly as we could. It was all very routine for all of us. We had it down to a science. But if faced with the rush of a real fire, would we be able to evacuate safely?
I always had the Columbine Tragedy etched in my memory. It was still a fresh wound in our teaching-hearts. And it made me more aware of the terrible things that people do in desperation. But this was my home. Nothing could happen in my home.
Early one morning, I was called by my principal on the "bat phone" (we used to call it)...He spoke calmly and asked me to please remain calm while he asked me if I had any family in the Twin Towers. I calmly uttered 'no' while he quickly instructed me to act as if nothing was wrong and to please close the window shades and doors and keep the kids calm and IN THE ROOM. (The towers were visible from MY room.) No bathroom trips, no unexpected trips to the yard for an art experiment and no discussing the collapse and attack of the first Tower.
I remained calm. It was all too surreal to act any differently.
I only knew these kids as my own for one and a half days. It was first period and we were right in the middle of a "Getting to Know You Conference". We were all sitting on the floor with the desks shoved in the corners. Giggling and laughing about one kid's pet Chinchilla and his dust baths. Then the shit hit the fan.
People running through the hallways and talking loudly in a panicked tone prompted the kids to question the commotion. (They were sixth graders and street smart..they knew something was up). I waited until word from my Principal to say anything and while immigrant kids were being escorted out of the building by extremely frightened parents, I began to discuss the matter as openly and calmly as I could with the kids. It was scary.
We had an emergency assembly with the remaining students and had to wait until about 6pm until all the kid's parents were present and accounted for. Surprisingly 'only' one little kindergartener lost her Daddy that day in the entire school. (One too many in our school family)
We were in a state of panic.
After that. It just wasn't ever the same.
Emergency lock downs were practiced and bomb drills were rehearsed on a weekly basis. They are not the same as a fire drill I assure you.
Locking two classroom doors, covering all the windows and remaining mouse-quiet with 30+ children at the back of the room while you wait for the 'secret code' to come over the loudspeaker to let you know the intruder is out of the building or being detained is scary stuff. That I can promise you.
Yes, they were only drills. However, they were constant reminders that things have changed. The once homey classroom felt like a prison that we couldn't escape in the clutches of terror if need be.
I saw the kids differently after that. They had their own lives to live and families to protect them. Who was I? I was just a scared and newly-wed woman who wanted to go home to her own family, but whose responsibility was to protect her young charges. Could I? If faced with such a tragedy as the other day at VA Tech., could I protect my students if their life depended on it?
I pray that I could.
I send all of my love to those families from Virginia. And those brave and honorable teachers who lost their lives trying to protect their students. In an institution that is supposed to be a safe-haven and a second home, it was invaded and lives were taken. I am reeling.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Night Terrors
Fafa is a pro at Night Terrors.
The funny thing is, the only one who is effected by them is yours truly.
They are the most horrific thing you could ever witness in the dark of the evening when all is quiet. But she is unaffected, when they are over.
F used to have them often as a baby. We would always know when they were going to happen because her days would be filled with an abundance of stimulation and she'd be overtired at bedtime. She'd be cranky and fall asleep hard. Then, she'd wake up screaming and inconsolable within 10-20 minutes of falling asleep. Sometimes they lasted five minutes, sometimes 2 hours. It was that bad.
She'd scream and cry and stiffen up and punch and scratch and not be able to recognize us. She'd be petrified of BD where he'd have to leave the room because she was that frightened of him. Her pupils would be dilated and she'd stare past me and scream out. Just scream. That blood curdling screetch that you just can.not.stop.
Then out of nowhere, they stopped. For a while, it was smooth sailing at night. Full nights of full, comfortable sleep. I thought we were past it.
Then, they came back. She had three in one week to be specific.
The last one made me cry. It lasted about 15 minutes. She was stiff, fighting, biting and screaming but she softened as soon as she woke up. Popped her thumb back into her mouth and rolled over with her lovey, like nothing ever happened. She even has the nerve to ask me what I'm doing in her bed afterwards. Gah.
I am pretty used to these by now. I know what they are when they happen and I know that she won't remember them when she wakes and I know she is safe because she is in her bed and I am restraining her. I know it is because she had a busy day...but what I don't know is why the intensity?
Why are these terrors so extreme? What could her little brain possibly be dreaming about when she is looking into my eyes (but not seeing me) and screaming "Mommy I need you!" at the top of her lungs? Why is she so scared? What is she processing during the day that she's not telling me that makes her so scared at night? It is frightening. For me.
It's to the point now that she's bigger and it is more difficult to hold her down too. She punches and kicks and bites and scratches herself and I don't understand. Why the anger? Why the violence? What is making her dream this way?
She still can't remember the incident once she snaps to. But I do. It scars me. Deep in my soul. My daughter is that intense and it scares me. She's only three.
The funny thing is, the only one who is effected by them is yours truly.
They are the most horrific thing you could ever witness in the dark of the evening when all is quiet. But she is unaffected, when they are over.
F used to have them often as a baby. We would always know when they were going to happen because her days would be filled with an abundance of stimulation and she'd be overtired at bedtime. She'd be cranky and fall asleep hard. Then, she'd wake up screaming and inconsolable within 10-20 minutes of falling asleep. Sometimes they lasted five minutes, sometimes 2 hours. It was that bad.
She'd scream and cry and stiffen up and punch and scratch and not be able to recognize us. She'd be petrified of BD where he'd have to leave the room because she was that frightened of him. Her pupils would be dilated and she'd stare past me and scream out. Just scream. That blood curdling screetch that you just can.not.stop.
Then out of nowhere, they stopped. For a while, it was smooth sailing at night. Full nights of full, comfortable sleep. I thought we were past it.
Then, they came back. She had three in one week to be specific.
The last one made me cry. It lasted about 15 minutes. She was stiff, fighting, biting and screaming but she softened as soon as she woke up. Popped her thumb back into her mouth and rolled over with her lovey, like nothing ever happened. She even has the nerve to ask me what I'm doing in her bed afterwards. Gah.
I am pretty used to these by now. I know what they are when they happen and I know that she won't remember them when she wakes and I know she is safe because she is in her bed and I am restraining her. I know it is because she had a busy day...but what I don't know is why the intensity?
Why are these terrors so extreme? What could her little brain possibly be dreaming about when she is looking into my eyes (but not seeing me) and screaming "Mommy I need you!" at the top of her lungs? Why is she so scared? What is she processing during the day that she's not telling me that makes her so scared at night? It is frightening. For me.
It's to the point now that she's bigger and it is more difficult to hold her down too. She punches and kicks and bites and scratches herself and I don't understand. Why the anger? Why the violence? What is making her dream this way?
She still can't remember the incident once she snaps to. But I do. It scars me. Deep in my soul. My daughter is that intense and it scares me. She's only three.
Friday, February 16, 2007
I can forgive but I won't forget
The apology has been barely uttered.
Years have gone by.
But you can't seem to get it out of yourhead heart.
The abandonment, the lying, the disappointment. The pressure to forgive a person for something they have done not even to you but to themselves. It still seems so fresh and so real. It's over, but is it ever really over in your head?
She is the one who suffered. She is the one who went through it. But you feel betrayed. You feel the hurt just as deeply as if it was your own.
Life goes on. Life happens and you are supposed to forgive and forget but you have this nagging feeling of abandonment and 'how could you do this to me?' and you try too hard to ignore it but it surfaces when you least expect it, when you need her most. It surfaces and you back away, recoil. You become aware of the hurt and the pain you felt when she wasn't there and you needed her most.
You try deep in your soul to let life go on as if nothing ever happened. But it's there in your heart and you can't let it go. You feel manipulated just a little bit and a victim of her passive-aggressive behaviors brought on by such a difficult life. Yet, you continue to pretend.
You are petrified she'll leave again. She'll do it again. She'll abandon you for good and then what will you have? Nothing. Again.
You will be left alone again. Probably when you need her most.
So why bother?
Because you love her. Unconditionally. And it hurts too much to let go. You can't say anything because, you are afraid you'll hurt her by telling her how you really feel. Even if it means you can't really trust. You have to pretend. Because you love her too much to let her see that you can't trust her. You love her too much to let her know how deeply she hurt you. Even if your heart is suffering because of her.
Years have gone by.
But you can't seem to get it out of your
The abandonment, the lying, the disappointment. The pressure to forgive a person for something they have done not even to you but to themselves. It still seems so fresh and so real. It's over, but is it ever really over in your head?
She is the one who suffered. She is the one who went through it. But you feel betrayed. You feel the hurt just as deeply as if it was your own.
Life goes on. Life happens and you are supposed to forgive and forget but you have this nagging feeling of abandonment and 'how could you do this to me?' and you try too hard to ignore it but it surfaces when you least expect it, when you need her most. It surfaces and you back away, recoil. You become aware of the hurt and the pain you felt when she wasn't there and you needed her most.
You try deep in your soul to let life go on as if nothing ever happened. But it's there in your heart and you can't let it go. You feel manipulated just a little bit and a victim of her passive-aggressive behaviors brought on by such a difficult life. Yet, you continue to pretend.
You are petrified she'll leave again. She'll do it again. She'll abandon you for good and then what will you have? Nothing. Again.
You will be left alone again. Probably when you need her most.
So why bother?
Because you love her. Unconditionally. And it hurts too much to let go. You can't say anything because, you are afraid you'll hurt her by telling her how you really feel. Even if it means you can't really trust. You have to pretend. Because you love her too much to let her see that you can't trust her. You love her too much to let her know how deeply she hurt you. Even if your heart is suffering because of her.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Let there be (Night)Light
My daughter is afraid of the dark.
I new it was coming for the past week. Every night, she'd find a new reason to keep me in her bed to "schnuggle" just a little longer. She'd complain about turning out the lights ("I can't see the brown!") and cry and whimper (like the dog) as I walked out of her room.
Last night was the kicker. She cried every time I tried to leave her room. It lasted about a half an hour. I get very nervous when she has a hard time going to sleep. You see, I have this thing with the dark and whenever she starts in, I freak out a little that we'll be up all night. In the dark. I discovered I was afraid of the dark when Fa was born. It immobilizes me. The dark. I can totally understand why she'd hate it too..but she was doing so well in it.
Then, I asked her hesitantly if she wanted me to put her night light on. She answered yes, for the first time ever.
I bought this night light for her last year and every time I tried to turn it on since then she'd yell at me to turn it off..."It's too bright!"
I love this night light. It's beautiful. It's purple with a little beaded shade over it like a tiny lamp. So girly. But I was kind of happy that she didn't need it.
Well, she needed it last night.
She napped yesterday too. Whenever she naps in the daytime now, she has a hard time going to sleep. I think we are thisclose to giving up the nap entirely. Goodbye sanity.
Years from now when I let her read this entry, I'm sure we'll laugh together and reminisce about how tiny and scared she used to be...But for now, in my head, I'm a little jittery.
I new it was coming for the past week. Every night, she'd find a new reason to keep me in her bed to "schnuggle" just a little longer. She'd complain about turning out the lights ("I can't see the brown!") and cry and whimper (like the dog) as I walked out of her room.
Last night was the kicker. She cried every time I tried to leave her room. It lasted about a half an hour. I get very nervous when she has a hard time going to sleep. You see, I have this thing with the dark and whenever she starts in, I freak out a little that we'll be up all night. In the dark. I discovered I was afraid of the dark when Fa was born. It immobilizes me. The dark. I can totally understand why she'd hate it too..but she was doing so well in it.
Then, I asked her hesitantly if she wanted me to put her night light on. She answered yes, for the first time ever.
I bought this night light for her last year and every time I tried to turn it on since then she'd yell at me to turn it off..."It's too bright!"
I love this night light. It's beautiful. It's purple with a little beaded shade over it like a tiny lamp. So girly. But I was kind of happy that she didn't need it.
Well, she needed it last night.
She napped yesterday too. Whenever she naps in the daytime now, she has a hard time going to sleep. I think we are thisclose to giving up the nap entirely. Goodbye sanity.
Years from now when I let her read this entry, I'm sure we'll laugh together and reminisce about how tiny and scared she used to be...But for now, in my head, I'm a little jittery.
Monday, February 5, 2007
Damnit.
I was all excited yesterday.
Earlier in the month, we got tickets to see The Dirty Sock Funtime Band and Audra Rox I couldn't friggin' wait. You know, it's like seeing Aerosmith, but for kids. The show was in Brooklyn and we got there waaay too early...Good job K!
We waited in the cars for the doors to open. It was freezing. We watch the band draggin' their gear into the venue, we chatted them up. We were the only ones there at that time. The lead singer is just too cute.
Fa is all ready to go. Brilliant, I think. She's excited! She's calm. She's happy. She's gonna do it. This time, after all the misadventures of loud, live shows...she's gonna actually do it.
We get lucky enough to get in to watch a little bit of the sound check because we were there so early and it was so, so cold and they felt bad for us. I'm thrilled. I'm singin', I'm dancin', I'm all excited...you know...former groupie feelin' like old times...You know how it is for me.
Audra is adorable and oh! so friendly. She was dancing with the kids on the dance floor. The members of the DSFTB were all out and about greeting the kiddies and chatting up the parents. All the kids are dancing and having a grand old time. But Fa. That's another story.
She looses it.
Absolutely looses it.
Screaming. Crying. It's too loud. I wanna go home. All that jazz.
I am furious.
I We (yes I dragged my husband on Super Bowl Sunday) try to keep her there as long as possible.
I got to talk to the lead singer some more. Did you know he brushes his teeth before every show? I know. He told me. He even offered me his tooth brush because I had a Bloody Mary and I told him I felt like my breath stunk. (yes, I was drinking at a kids engagement) He was so sweet. Gah! My new crush.
We leave. Even before the band comes on.
Talk about pissed. Disappointed. Unsure. Nervous. I was all of those things. I just can't comprehend that out of all the kids in that place, mine was the only one shitting her pants. Totally lost it. Friggin' basket case.
I just don't get it.
What the hell am I doing wrong?
How do I get her to just loosen up and just enjoy the moment?
I am at a loss and I just don't know what to do to help her.
Where am I going wrong?
Earlier in the month, we got tickets to see The Dirty Sock Funtime Band and Audra Rox I couldn't friggin' wait. You know, it's like seeing Aerosmith, but for kids. The show was in Brooklyn and we got there waaay too early...Good job K!
We waited in the cars for the doors to open. It was freezing. We watch the band draggin' their gear into the venue, we chatted them up. We were the only ones there at that time. The lead singer is just too cute.
Fa is all ready to go. Brilliant, I think. She's excited! She's calm. She's happy. She's gonna do it. This time, after all the misadventures of loud, live shows...she's gonna actually do it.
We get lucky enough to get in to watch a little bit of the sound check because we were there so early and it was so, so cold and they felt bad for us. I'm thrilled. I'm singin', I'm dancin', I'm all excited...you know...former groupie feelin' like old times...You know how it is for me.
Audra is adorable and oh! so friendly. She was dancing with the kids on the dance floor. The members of the DSFTB were all out and about greeting the kiddies and chatting up the parents. All the kids are dancing and having a grand old time. But Fa. That's another story.
She looses it.
Absolutely looses it.
Screaming. Crying. It's too loud. I wanna go home. All that jazz.
I am furious.
I got to talk to the lead singer some more. Did you know he brushes his teeth before every show? I know. He told me. He even offered me his tooth brush because I had a Bloody Mary and I told him I felt like my breath stunk. (yes, I was drinking at a kids engagement) He was so sweet. Gah! My new crush.
We leave. Even before the band comes on.
Talk about pissed. Disappointed. Unsure. Nervous. I was all of those things. I just can't comprehend that out of all the kids in that place, mine was the only one shitting her pants. Totally lost it. Friggin' basket case.
I just don't get it.
What the hell am I doing wrong?
How do I get her to just loosen up and just enjoy the moment?
I am at a loss and I just don't know what to do to help her.
Where am I going wrong?
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