It is the last day of winter break. My daughter is due to go back to school tomorrow, although with all the snow hype this weekend, we are preparing ourselves for the possibility of an extra day. The break has been dysregulating for her, as it has been for many families we know. The break from routine coupled with high energy visits with family and friends can take a toll on anyone, children most of all. I think it’s something we adults tend to overlook.
Knowing that this is our last day together before we attempt to strike up our routine, we sought to handle it with care. No trips, no screens, and as little stress as possible. While in school, I struggled to regulate my own emotions, and often fell far short of where I wanted to be as a mother. I worried that I would carry bad habits with me after graduating. Happily, I am finding that my well of patience has grown immensely, and just in time, too. My daughter has had an incredibly rough go of it today, and it is only 1pm.
It really began with the cherries. She’s old enough to do some things on her own, like serve herself simple snacks. We encouraged her to get her own serving of frozen cherries, something which she has not done before but is usually well within her abilities. State-dependent functioning being what it is, she struggled with big emotions around the task. Lots of tears, wailing, and anxiety about spilling. My partner and I stayed gentle but firm through the whole thing, even after she did spill most of the bag on the table. We showed her art of spilled cherries, and eventually she cleaned them up. Later, she got herself a second serving with significantly less fanfare. It was a choice to not step in and do the job for her, or rescue her completely. At the same time, we remained kind and endlessly patient. I was glad to have the time to allow things to move at her pace.
We weren’t sure how to spend the day, as it did not seem like a good day to engage in anything that might induce more tears and frustration. With as much ambition as she demonstrates, this is sometimes difficult. I thought she might enjoy something new yet well within her abilities, so I cut and punched some cardboard for her to practice lacing on. She instantaneously picked up two stitch types and began experimenting, so I brought out felt, embroidery floss, and real needles. I had planned to cut a single layer for her to stitch around the edge on, but she asked if we could stuff it so I showed her how to sew two pieces of felt together with space in the middle. Thirty minutes later, she had finished her first hand-sewn stuffie, shaped like a taiyaki fish. No fuss, and a lot of pride.
I have been feeling fatigued easily the past few days, and so after this I took time to rest in the living room. My daughter suggested that we pop all the balloons that she and my partner had blown up for my graduation party. I hate balloons on principle, due to the ecological impact. She adores them, as they are undeniably quite fun to play with, so when we have any I let her keep them as long as she likes. Per her request, I showed her how she could use scissors to quietly nick the neck of the balloon and allow the air to escape gently. I then watched as she spent the next ten minutes draining a dozen balloons. Spread across the room, she opted to collect them one at a time rather than gather them all together in one place. The latent engineer in me questioned the efficiency of this to myself, but I refrained from saying anything to her. I am glad I didn’t, because as I watched I realized the experience was less about ridding the house of balloons, but taking in all the varied sensations each balloon provided. One after another, each balloon received personal attention as she marveled at how it collapsed in her hand. She noticed when some stuck to her skin, or other objects. One blew particularly cool air on her hand. Another shot from her grasp and landed in a nearby chair; naturally she tried in vain to recreate the effect.
I am reminded that she is learning in every moment. By comparison, I am usually doing in every moment, often planning ahead at the same time. She experiences much more authentically than I do. Usually, when I am working on a project or cleaning or even driving, I will be listening to a book (or possibly watching something–not while driving though of course!). It is my way of accomplishing two things at once. Since graduating, I have not done this. When I create art, I do it in silence. It is soothing in a melancholy sort of way. It feels necessary, right now.