A Way Back

So many things have happened since my last post. But just a couple biggies. Here's the first one. Would have been a boring story, so here's the list:

1) Day one of second grade - Harper hates school and thinks her teacher is boring.
2) We wait a month - I think it's just an adjustment period. I'm wrong.
3) I talk to Harper's teacher, who tells me in short that Harper is the worst behaved, lowest achieving student in the class. Disruptive and the class-clown, Harper is the kid whom every teacher wants assigned to some other class. She suggests that Harper move classes.
4) I cry.
5) I try to work our some strategies for Harper to stay with this teacher and class with all of her best friends.
6) This teacher is well, words cannot describe this teacher. Sufficed to say she works well within the box. I now have a kid who can't find the box. Surprising...on both counts.
7) I cry some more.
8) The principal tells me that she's not willing to move Harper.
9) Harper has stomach aches, hates school, wakes up each day with new reasons to avoid her educational institution.
10) A friend suggests that Harper might have ADHD.
11) I cry some more, do research, cry, call Kaiser for an assessment, cry again.
12) I suggest that Harper might be happier with a less rigid teacher, one that wouldn't mind if Harper stretched her legs out in circle time. The principal refuses to move Harper - feels as though it sends bad message.
13) Harper is diagnosed with ADHD - acceptance without tears.
14) I employ other parents to put subtle pressure on the principal, who is less than a great leader or administrator. I'm ready to go the district.
15) The principal moves Harper, to her instant relief and to my great surprise.
16) She becomes, once again, a happy little person who enjoys going to school

And that has been the last four months of my life. Other things have happened recently, but nothing that shaped the family as much as this experience. Seeing your seven-year-old miserable day after day, being impotent to change the circumstances causing her distress, to have her character and her ability to learn called into question - well, I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

And then, as if often the case, the pendulum swung. Harper started piano lessons. Since the first few days after her first lesson, Harper and the piano have become a unit - inseparable. She's always been musical - singing, playing around with the keyboard, harmonizing with her Dad, a former musician himself. She's even written three songs for her girl band, "Blood's Desire", yes, that's right "Blood's Desire." There have been squabbles within the band, a brief name change to "Goth Girls", but ultimately the band's intact and they continue to produce hits for the playground groupies. But when she started her solo career with piano lessons, her love and her talent really started to take shape. I can't get her away from the piano in the morning to get dressed for school; she's constantly composing new songs in her head with lyrics. Her latest is a blues tune called "Shadow". She's riffing on the songs her teacher assigns and she tells me that she hears musical instruments in her head.

So...... it's really a new day; she's found a new tune to play in her life, one that works perfectly with her chaotic brain. It's still difficult for her to focus on homework, but we're working on ways to focus her brain without her fingers on the piano keys. It's just the beginning of the ADHD thing and I'm bracing myself for the future. I'm glad we have at least one thing that she loves.

One take away from all this - I just wish that I could recognize the inherent rhythm of life - a shitstorm one minute and pure joy the next. I should know this by now, shouldn't I? But somehow life always surprises me. And as a parent, nothing is more surprising than when someone tells you your kid is a little different. Wish I was better at riding the wave; I might be a little better now since the ADHD bomb and Harp's discovery of her passion for the keyboard. Maybe by the time she leaves for college, I'll see the waves coming. Maybe even get a surfboard and have some fun. 'Til then, I'll try to blog more and ride 'em the best I can.

Looking for the Truth

Harp and I went out to buy shoes yesterday; Rose was at preschool, so we were alone, enjoying each other's company on a lovely Tuesday afternoon in Oakland. We talked about poverty (seriously), her current teacher's "boring-ness" and when American Idol will return to TV. Then, my little whippersnapper asked me, out of the blue, "Mom, are you the tooth fairy?"

Choking back my surprise, trying not to look in the rear view mirror, I did what any normal parent would do - avoided answering the question.

"What makes you ask that, hon?"

"Well, because, you know how I'm getting taller.

"Yeah."

"Well, I was looking on your top bookshelf, because I know you keep lip gloss up there sometimes, and I got the lip gloss."

"Yeah."

"Well, I know I should ask you about lip gloss next time."

"Yeah."

"Well, anyway, there was this little tooth - my tooth - behind the lip gloss."

"Yeah."

"So, I thought maybe you were the tooth fairy and that the tooth fairy really isn't real."

So.........a cross road of sorts. Decision time. Is this the end of fairies, of Santa Claus, of everything magical in childhood? Right here, right now - is she really too old for fairies at almost seven? And how did she make the connection between the tooth and her parents' many years of subterfuge and deception? Thoughts whizzed through my brain as I contemplated the conversation - the many ways to handle it.

In the end, I found I just couldn't lie to her face; her question was so earnest, so I told her the truth. I don't know why making up stories, passing along myth and tradition seems so easy when they're young, unaware and innocent, but she's not anymore. And I couldn't answer her question as if she was still a part of a world that's simple, easy and constructed, albeit with love, by her parents. She's out there now and oddly, the loss of this little bit of innocence didn't make me sad or rueful.....even for a moment. We still have Santa Claus, I know, but the writing's on the wall, she's writing it now and I find that I don't mind so much - it's a brilliant story.

Big Thoughts, Little People Vol. 1

Harp, Rose and I were getting ready for some summer park action this morning when Harp hit me with this:

Harp: Mom, you know why I'm doing everything you ask me to do the first time you ask?

Mom: I can't imagine why, dear heart. I did notice the unusual compliance, but didn't want to dissuade you from your current unexplained and unusual course. (Slightly enhanced language to adjust for pre-coffee verbal incoherence)

Harp: Well, I just didn't want to stress you out. You're not stressed are you?

Mom: No - not feeling particularly stressed right now.

Harp: Do you know why you're not stressed?

Mom: No. I guess I've had enough sleep.

Harp: Yeah, maybe, but it's also because I snuck into your room last night and poured "no-stress potion" into your mouth.

Mom: Ah, really?

Harp: Yeah, it's only for kids to give parents, so parents won't get stressed out and yell at their kids.

Mom: Dude, great concept - love the idea.

Harp: But it's a secret. I probably shouldn't have told you that. Tonight I'll give you the "no remembering potion," so you'll forget this conversation.

Honest to god.....

A Break

So, I'll be taking a blog-break over the next few months because I'll be training for a triathlon. I don't know why. I should probably invent a more convincing response than, "just thought it was time to do it before I got too old," or "sounded like a good idea at the time." The reality is that I don't have a good answer. But the fact that my blog has been languishing for the past two months is a clear testament to how I've been spending my time. Alas, I have not been writing.

With the kids and Chris and the triathlon, I have time for little else. Phone calls are not being returned, the dust bunnies are forming an army and come out when guests are over, and most of the time my children look at me sideways with a mixture of disbelief and resentment. "Again? She's leaving us again?" They are not happy with me. Rose says, "You'd choose to go running/swimming/biking instead of reading me a story? You are the sorriest excuse for a caregiver - a disgrace to the name of mother." At least this is she would say if she weren't yelling, "Don't leave me Mama, I want you," while I try to shake her off my leg like a humping puppy.

This whole experience has me thinking about balance. Not that I'm not always thinking about balance; with two young children finding that elusive equilibrium between life and sanity feels like an endless quest. Still, you never want to drive your kids to the point where they're holding onto your leg; it just feels awful for everyone. But sometimes, you just gotta go, gotta do something that runs counter to your kid's immediate needs/desires/drama. Figuring out what you have to do and what you want to do is the real ticket. But here's the thing, I don't have to do this - I just want to. And some days, I feel like a schmuck. I might be able to squash a pumpkin with my quads, but I'm routinely missing story time. They are not happy with me.

I have a friend who asked me how I possibly had time to train for a triathlon with the kids. I didn't or couldn't answer her, because I know how she feels about family. For her, family time is number one, the kids are always number one and there are no exceptions. She stays at home so she gets big kid doses just like I do. But we are so different - I need more breaks, I am more easily overwhelmed by the constant demands of motherhood and I like going on dates with my guy.....alone.....a lot.

Shouldn't always surprise me that so many people do parenting so differently but it still does. And I guess when Rosie's hanging on my leg, I can't help but ponder life balance - to wonder if I am:

A. Providing a good model of exercise and working toward a goal
B. Exhibiting narcissism which will come up in therapy in the post-college years
C. Being essentially a good mother, although oddly absent of late, but who will certainly return to her usual duties come Fall.

Time will tell of course, but I hope that "triathlon" won't be a dirty word in our house, that the kids will forgive me for time lost and that we can pick up where we left off in September. Because, as much as I think about balance and how much time I've been spending away from the kids, doing something on my own has been inspiring, empowering and well, damn fun. So onward to more pumpkin squashing........ feeling slightly guilty still and looking forward to Fall. Oh, and thanks to Chris....for picking up all the story times.