So sweet, isn't she?
Looks can be deceiving.
It had been a while since I'd said anything about how she's doing, so I thought I'd update, especially now that she's started...
When did my baby get so big?? I do not remember authorizing this.
Anyway, that picture was from her first day of school, when she was so excited and ready to see her friends and find out who else new was going to be in her class. She sits right next to one best friend and was initially seated across from another (who now sits across the room... I suspect this had something to do with putting three girls next to each other, all of whom have Chatty Cathy tendencies). She likes her teacher, and she enjoys the activities and learning that she gets to do in class. She came home this afternoon and was SO proud to tell me what she had learned today.
In other words, she likes school. A lot.
Does this mean that getting her to school every day and home again every afternoon is easy?
She did well for the first four days. Then on Wednesday, August 11, 2010, she got up, put her uniform on, and wandered into the kitchen so I could help her tuck her shirt in.
Then she promptly informed me she was NOT going to school.
This was at 7:15 a.m. We leave the house around 7:40 to get to school and have time for her to get in and settled before the day officially begins at 8. You do the math. After a lot of finagling and coercion, I got some breakfast into her and even managed to get her to (sort of) brush her teeth. When she realized, though, that I truly intended to haul her crabby rear end to school, she declared WAR. She kicked. She screamed. She called me names. She hit. Mostly she tried to run back to her room to escape. I hauled her - all 56 protesting pounds of her - across the house to the back door. She got a few good kicks in while I put her shoes on her feet and double-knotted them to prevent her from removing them, and then I threatened with every weapon in my arsenal to get her into the car. She still tried to make a break for it across the back yard. She kicked the back of the passenger seat until she realized I wasn't going to stop and then just screamed for all she was worth. Poor M1 just covered his ears and tried to pretend he was elsewhere. We got to the school and I carried her in, fearing that she'd try to streak across the parking lot where other parents were dropping their kids off. I got into the classroom, and she refused to get down. I tried to calm her and had almost succeeded until she realized that - once again - I truly meant to leave her there, and then it all started up again. The teacher came and held her (remarking, "My, she does have quite a grip, doesn't she?" when we were trying to detach my daughter's fist from where it was embedded in my shirt), and I left. Apparently it took her a good 45 minutes to settle, though she didn't act out towards anyone there. She was allowed to calm down by herself. I am grateful for all of that. I kept waiting on the phone call.
Since then, the fits have been back, off and on, sometimes in the morning and sometimes after school and often with little to no known provocation. Last night during one of these, she went to her room and audibly plotted my ultimate demise. She's quite creative.
I'm irritated at her psychiatrist because we were supposed to go back and see him on the 23rd, but he's going to be out of town that day so we had to push the appointment back a week. If her behavior continues, I'm going to e-mail him and see about getting in sooner. This is getting ridiculous, and I'm starting to feel like I'm walking on eggshells again. I don't know if we need to up the meds or change them, but something needs to be altered.
Of course, even if she does have a two-hour-long fit, this means there are still another 12 or so waking hours in the day where she's happy and cheerful, and last weekend she reminded me, "Mom, when can I get my ears pierced again?"
I couldn't come up with any good reason not to do it, so off we went.
She'd had her ears pierced before, when she was about 3 and insisted that she wanted it done then. We had gone to Claire's, and they became horribly infected. We wound up having to remove the earrings altogether and let the holes heal.
This time, I vowed to do things right. We went to a tattoo parlor, where they were more than happy to welcome a 5-year-old customer who was adamant that she was ready to have her ears pierced - again. She chose hoops instead of studs, which made me glad because posts with backs can make it harder to clean, and she sat perfectly still through the whole procedure, which didn't take long at all. She's had them for less than a week, and already they're healing much better than they did last time.
Now she's giggling and zipping back and forth across the living room, playing with the animals and watching the dogs rumble with each other. She loves that Speed Bump has learned to play.
Boy update sometime this weekend! I can't forget about him! :)