Monday, October 20, 2008

Day 70 on Lexapro.

Day 48 on Lamictal.

posted a few days later…

Since the breakdown, one of my major goals has been to do my very best for Em. Of course, I have always wanted what is best for her, but during the time that I was sick, I do not feel that I was able to successfully provide everything she needed.

And so, a lot of thought has gone into what I think would help her thrive better individually – and what I think would help us improve as a family unit.

One of the biggest goals regarding Em was to enroll her in a school. I wanted her to have structure and interaction with other children. I also wanted her to be able to come home with me every night.

And so, by the grace of God, I was able to take on some extra hours at work to make this happen. As soon as I knew I would have the income to support it, I set about to find a school for her.

And with the help of a friend, I did.

This day was her first day.

And she was so excited.

I, however, was a little nervous. Though she had been to Mother’s Day Out before, this was the first time she would be staying all day. And she would be with other four year olds in a Pre-K class, which would signify the first time she was grouped with older kids. Because her birthday is right after the school age cutoff, she is usually grouped with children who are younger than she.

It would be a different experience for her, to be sure.

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After school, I took her home.

Every fiber of my being wanted to prod her for the information she was so unwilling to share. How did she like it? Did she make any friends? What was her favorite part of the day?

So, that is what I did.

In response, perhaps like a teenager, she rolled her eyes and told me she did not want to talk about it.

But this night as we ate dinner, she began to spill.

“There were these girls at school,” she started. “They were just terrible.”

This is why we sit down to eat together, I thought. To find out what is really going on.

Of course, I tried to be nonchalant.

“Oh really? What did these terrible girls do?” I asked in the most conversational tone I could afford. Inside, my heart began to pound. What had these terrible girls done?!

“Well, they were just chasing me. They were chasing me everywhere and these boys saved me. I was yelling, ‘Help! Help!” and these boys saved me. It was great of those boys.”

“Girls were chasing you?”

Mean girls! I thought. Em had already had her first experience with mean girls! At the age of barely four! How was I going to deal with a lifetime of this?!

“Oh yes,” she replied. “They were chasing me and they said they were going to kill me and peel me.”

“Peel you?” At this point, I was pretty much flipping out. But I tried to remain calm.

“Yes. You know…like a banana.”

“They said they were going to peel you like a banana?! What did you do?”

“I ran and yelled, “Help! Help!” And that is when the boys saved me.”

“Why were they doing this?”

“Because the girls were chasing me.”

“But why were the girls chasing you?”

“They said they didn’t want any new friends.”

I was heartbroken. I hated for her to have to experience this kind of stuff so early.

“Em…stick with the nice kids, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And stay away from those girls.”

“But I’m pretty sure they’ll be nice tomorrow.”

“Em, they probably won’t be. Stay away from those girls…”

“Okay.”

This night, as Em took her bath, I sat thinking. This was a fairly new situation for us. How could I teach my daughter to be confident and stick up for herself without inciting conflict? Should I pull her out of this school? Why had they singled her out? Was there something about her that warranted teasing? Was it ever going to get any better? What if she was the kid who would be picked on for the rest of her school career?

I was so disappointed. I had wanted school to go well. What had happened instead bothered me.

And it bothered me a lot more than it bothered Em.

“Do you want to go back to school tomorrow?” I asked her.

“Oh yes!’ She replied excitedly.

Em, it seems, is a lot tougher than me.