One Day at a Time

I went into this weekend feeling like I wanted to focus on repairing our family.  We've gotten so far off track, we were living a sort of parallel existences, in the same small living space, but so separate.  Eating together was, still is, rare.  Being in the same room without arguments, yelling and tears, has also been rare.  Little glimpses of harmony, like our car trip to Southern California in August, made the typical daily grind all the more frustrating because I knew what things could be like.

But we have to find our way back, or how are my kids ever going to be able to function in an intimate family dynamic?  Family meals with conversation, game nights with some laughter, mellow outings just for fun  . . .  these things have to coexist with the arguments so that the kids know it's normal to disagree, to get angry, and then to reconnect, make up, love each other and move on.  Let some things go, by keeping perspective.  We don't always get our way.  And that's OK.

I've been trying to make everyone feel like they could get their own way whenever possible.  Meal choices, activity choices, separate from each other to avoid conflict (which it didn't anyway!).  Now I'm remembering and tuning in to the concept that I can make a unilateral decision for the good of all, or at least in my estimation, and be the parent.  Or put another way, they're not always going to be happy with my decisions.  Oh well.  They need the lesson in that.  You don't always get what you want, and you can still participate and have a good time, or even do something just so someone else has a good time.  That feels good, to do something for someone else.

Rome wasn't built in a day, and we won't become the ideal healthy family in a day.  Not that I'm expecting ideal, but a closer version than we have now.  So this weekend I settled for another round of communal housecleaning (rotating core list with an expanded set of responsibilities) on Saturday morning and sitting down to Sunday dinner at the same time and place. 

I really wanted to take the kids for a fun outing, and had made tentative plans for whale watching, but the weather didn't cooperate, which was just as well.  Neither Lily or her brother was all that interested in whale watching, and I realized I was creating more pressure than anyone needed.  We need more normal, low key.  We don't really need a forced fun event.  Special events will happen, but rushing that is a mistake.

So I think the goal of feeling more normal is good.  Our new life has been termed the new normal by our local NAMI chapter.  I understand it's beneficial to lower expectations when you're in crisis.  But I threw out all my expectations, and that's going too far.  I'm claiming some of them again.  It's good to shoot for a higher level of functioning.  We will do this, one day at a time.

High Drama, Good and Rough Times

Yesterday you could have knocked me over with a feather!  Heck, I would have somersaulted and rolled with it! Lila and I went to the market, both of us in good spirits.  When we got out of the car and walked across the parking lot, Lily put her arm around my waist and wanted to duck walk with me to the store entrance.  Seriously.  So we did, laughing all the way.

My daughter voluntarily displayed physical affection.  To me.  I'm still stunned.

Later in the evening she was stressed out about homework, and got teary.  She has one particularly intense teacher and she doesn't yet know how to deal with his energy.  After listening to him on back to school night, I'd say he's a bit different.  Eccentric, but not necessarily accepting of others' differences.

So, I helped her with her homework, rubbed her back and got her settled in bed.  This morning she got up and got ready, but balked when we pulled up to the school.  She had an anxious reaction, upset stomach and tight throat.  I spent a few minutes trying to reason with her  and get her to just go to class, but eventually I needed to drive to my son's school to drop him off.  Lily went with me, so I found a nice place to park after getting her brother to school.  I gave Lily some ativan to take the edge off the anxiety, and we talked through some of what's bothering her at school.  She couldn't pull it together enough to go to school at that point, so we headed home, with the understanding that she wouldn't have access to electronic entertainment until she returned to school.

I was so disappointed and frustrated.  Angry at myself for not getting her to go to school, frustrated with her for not just sucking it up.  I put on some music, one of my favorites things to do, and went home to clean house.  I missed out on my walk (I tried with Lily but she didn't feel well) and my peaceful morning to myself.  I canceled an appointment. 

Lily finally was ready to try to go to class after lunch.  She was going in time to sit in on the dreaded teacher's class, so I have to give her credit.  She's trying.

But I'm super sensitized to the fear of backsliding.  I can't go back and give up my classes, the dancing, the progress we've made on the home front.  I don't want her to slide back into depression and fear.  I want to see more of the laughter and affection.  I do realize she's made incredible strides.  That's all the more reason to want to see it continue.  I think we were mistaken about the level of illness and her inability to cope last year.  She can do more than we realized.  But I need more help keeping her on track.  I need a better game plan, so that we don't flounder before school.  I know our therapists will help with that.  Thank goodness.