It feels like a lifetime since I posted last. Only 3 months in reality but it feels like ages. I guess I should recap versus waxing poetic about any one topic.
As the days crept on toward Parent/Teacher Conferences I grew more and more anxious. This was despite the fact that Lilah's teacher had been keeping me updated frequently about her progress. When the night came, I was sick and shaky. We sat down in the tiny plastic chairs and talked. Areas of concern included fine motor skills and delay in initiating work. Lilah preferred to look around the room and watch everyone else instead of doing her own work. When she got started, she usually completed it to some degree of accuracy. Modifications had been put in place, like allowing her to write on a white board to prevent fatigue and encouraging her to pick up cotton balls with tweezers to strengthen her hand (an activity she adored for some reason).
Areas of praise included her sweetness, attentiveness, quietness (!!), self-control, and what a good friend she was. I voiced concern about the Common Core requirement for the children, to be reading when they leave kindergarten. I saw some fiery Irish spirit come out as Mrs. McNeil walked to the bookshelf and said, "They not only want them to be reading, but reading at THIS level." She thrust a picture book at me, and let me tell you, it wasn't See Spot Run. It was a complex book for a 5 year old. We were assured that not every child is developmentally able to meet that requirement and the 1st grade teachers were well aware that not every incoming student would be reading.
Socially, Lilah is blossoming but navigating some difficult waters for someone so small. Whether it was the boy with the probable crush who woos by punching or the boy with anger problems who pulled out a fistful of her hair "to take home" or the girl no one likes because she's mean who reacts to loneliness by being meaner, there were new situations every day that required a nigh-adult level of maturity to understand. Lilah has had two meetings mediated by the teacher to reach an understanding with someone who harmed her physically. Both times she was prompted gently to say she accepted an apology in lieu of "That's okay," because the behavior was definitely not okay.
When she was being teased that she didn't really have a baby in her tummy and wasn't really a mommy during free choice time, I tried to lessen her anger by cautiously reminding her that her "baby" didn't have a father, so was probably just a pretend fetus. She tossed her blonde hair and said, "Maia (her friend) has two mommies and no daddy and she's not pretend." So I quit while I was behind and let her go back to cramming Eloise up her sweatshirt and walking around with one plastic leg hanging down like a strip of forgotten toilet paper trailing behind her.
Thanksgiving was a quiet, Alexander-only affair. The week after I took Lilah to do some Christmas shopping for cousins. She was dressed in her holiday dress from the year before, a red velvet and lace concoction with a matching ribbon-bedecked cloche. We had barely entered Somerset when she announced, "I need to see Santa." She had always shied away from the experience in years past so I was surprised, but shrugged and queued up to see the big guy. We hadn't been waiting long before an Elf greeted us to usher us back to the holding pen where all the other children and parents were being kept. Lilah told the Elf, "My daddy couldn't be here with me today." The Elf aww'd accordingly and asked if he had to work. "No, he drank too many beers and is throwing up in the bathroom." The blood drained out of my face and I assured the Elf (who had her eyebrow raised at me) that he only had the stomach flu and had not consumed ANY beers. She nodded, clearly not buying it, and gave Lilah a pitying glance before we went in to see Santa. She told him what she wanted for Christmas - an Elsa bag for ballet, fuzzy blue Frozen slippers, a new dress for Eloise and Caroline, and the Lego figures of Emmet and his friends from the Lego Movie. The other Elves were trying to get a picture of her but she wouldn't look up. I snapped one of her explaining her list to Santa and it was very genuine and sweet. They got a few half-baked smiles. I suggested they tell her to stop smiling and look angry instead. They got the big, defiant Lilah grin I knew they would. When we were checking out, the first Elf whispered to the others what Lilah had told her about her drunk daddy. After seeing Santa, all children were given 3 "Santa coins" and a list of stores in the mall where they could redeem them for things like hot cocoa, ornaments, and cookies. They patted her on the head and said, "Poor thing," before handing her 7 Santa coins and sending her on her way with looks of disgust for her mother, who was clearly in denial of her father's drinking problem. I shook my head and shuffled her along, the little liar.
We were invited to the Larsen Christmas celebration with my aunt and cousins this year. It was such a special thing for me to be able to attend a gathering of my family members. Other than my grandmother's funeral, it was the only time we'd all been together since well before I got married. Lilah was recovering from pneumonia after a nasty run-in with Thanksgiving Day croup left her immune system pretty ravaged. She was bundled in a flannel nightgown and snuggled on top of an old trunk covered with pillows and blankets. She watched the other kids play, joining in now and again before going back to her perch. She said a few times, "I didn't know there would be so many girls." Her dad's side of the family is definitely boy-heavy when it comes to cousins. On my side, Isaac and Bentley (5 and 3) were then only small boys in a flock of girls. Most of the children were blonde. For the first time since I had her, it actually felt like she belonged to my family too. In addition to the kid gift exchange where she received a Frozen-themed board game and was over the moon, she listened to a reading of the Nativity and received a gift from my Aunt Beth. There was a copy of the children's book The Box House that she wrote recently (excellent, by the way), and a new outfit for Caroline - a beautiful dress and hooded cape. She ran off to get Caroline to change her, clutching her gifts and smiling. Even Dano and I received a gift of several new movies and a cookbook. I was caught off guard and so thankful. It was more than I'd grown to expect out of Christmas, getting to be in a family setting where I didn't inherently feel like an outsider graciously allowed into someone else's family circle.
I'm not sure if it was the contrast of going back to feeling like an outsider, or if it was just the holiday itself, but actual Christmas was a little bit awful for me this year. Dano had parents, grandparents, and siblings in town for a big celebration. There were several dinners, outings, and the usual holiday gift exchanges and cookie decorating afternoons. I spent 100% of my spare time either shopping, cleaning, or preparing for those different obligations. I cut my sleep by 1-2 hours per night. I wrapped gifts, knitted furiously, cooked, and cleaned until sometimes late into the night. In his defense, I couldn't have done it without Dano. He pulled more than his weight and tried to keep my sanity in check as well. It felt like as soon as I'd met one obligation, the clock started ticking to the next one and I hated the feeling. I'd be plunged back into work for 8 hours, only to resurface gasping (it's flu season) and launch into the next scheduled activity. I finished up all my work for Christmas Eve and raced home, only to have Dano tell me Lilah was with cousins decorating cookies. It hurt my heart a little that she was, once again, making all these Christmas memories this year without me. She was still having fun, but I felt like I was missing everything in an attempt to do it all. I got a text that she was worn out and weepy so I picked her up and took her home. We changed into pajamas, I threw a gingerbread in the oven, and we crawled into bed. I held her and she said, "You know, I think I just needed some Mama time." Tears trickled down my nose into her hair.
"I definitely needed some Lilah time. What do you want to do?"
"Um, can we watch Gilmore Girls and do a craft?" So that's where Dano found us 2 hours later, hands covered in glitter.
We had Christmas Eve at his sister's house later that night and it went fine. I was a little subdued but tried to fake it. I wasn't joyful, I wasn't merry. I just was. It didn't feel good. I tried to relax on Christmas and take the day to enjoy the people I loved. It wasn't bad, as long as I kept pushing the fact I had to go right back to work the next morning out of my head.
On the 26th, Lilah was morose and sulky all morning. She said she just wanted her family to be home with her. I told her she could tell her Grannie if she felt bad and she'd take care of it. I got a text at 8:38 that she missed her mama, along with a sad face picture. I'm sure Lilah was just being dramatic but it still hurt me. She called me shortly after that to say she was lonely and she missed me. I stepped out and cried. What was the point of all the rushing around and planning and events if I couldn't even spend time with my kid? What if she'd gotten pneumonia because I was too busy to take care of her properly over Thanksgiving? I got it together and worked as hard as I could to get out early. I sent my mother-in-law and Dano a text at 2:30 that I'd probably be able to leave at 3. I was elated. I could spent 2 hours with Lilah just playing, and then the adults were supposed to go out to dinner around 6. At least I'd get some playtime in. I called my father-in-law on the way home to let him know I was out of work and see where they were. He told me they were all at the DIA downtown. My heart sank. It was one of my favorite places, and I was missing that too. It didn't sound like they were anywhere near done. There was just silence on the phone. "Well." I swallowed hard to keep from crying. "I guess just let me know when you're back?" He said he would and hung up. I burst into tears. When I got home, I just turned out all the lights and crawled into bed, feeling miserable. Dory was concerned and confused but couldn't get her short legs up on the bed, so just kept trying to jump up and falling halfway down like an idiot. Dano tried to talk to me and pat my back but nothing made it better. I felt like I was trying to do everything everyone wanted and doing none of it well. I had seen status updates and photos of the Ferrell Christmas and that hurt came rushing back fresh, that I was an outsider in my own family as well as the family I married into. I just stayed in bed when someone finally brought Lilah back around 5:30. Dano said we weren't going out to dinner, which I told him was a mistake. We'd already committed to it. He said he didn't care and declared it a family night. He got takeout and we watched Peg + Cat's Christmas special. I sorted all my new yarn, which helped cheer me up. I did crafts with Lilah and we snuggled. I still feel this lingering sadness hovering on the edge of my life right now. I'm keeping busy at work and home to avoid it like a healthy American adult. I have some time off around the New Year I'm hoping can breathe some life back into my, well, life. I'm tired of feeling like an exhausted ghost, just floating listlessly from one event to another. I don't know where along the way I lost my joy, but what is a holiday worth without it? I can say from experience, not very much.
Merry Christmas to all...
