My husband and I are not on the same page. That, in itself, is not unusual. We are very different people. We have been living with varying degrees of RAD for over thirty years. Sometimes it was easy, because one of us (usually, but not always, him) were away and not really involved for long periods of time. Other times, when we are both fully a part of the process, it is more difficult to be coming from the same place. Right now, we are not in the same place with Hope. Theoretically, we do agree. Relationships are all important. Deal with the behavior that we have to. It has been building all week- where to draw the line. Hope has developed a routine where she chooses food to eat and once she has it changes her mind. Years ago we danced this dance and the response was ” Eat what you want. Just make sure you eat enough. The next meal is _____.” It has been a standard over the years and it has been a long time since I even thought about it. Hope added a new wrinkle. She agrees to eat it, then rips it up, spreads it around the plate and a little bit at a time, drops it on the floor. She takes the empty plate to Daddy (always Daddy) and says to Daddy, “I am all finished”, while she watches me for a reaction. Every instinct in my body is screaming to tell her when the next meal is and let her watch me pick up the floor. Daddy handles it differently. He smiles and says “Good job, Hope”. In his opinion, it is not worth fighting over. To add to my murkiness, GB is watching and taking this all in.
I know I am not in a place to be objective at the moment, so I am tabling it. We took the girls to see the Cat in the Hat at B&N. Both of them enjoyed it. Afterward, the two girls and friends that met us there went off to look at book and toys and listen to music. We set out boundaries and made sure they understood them. GB and her friends were happy within the boundaries. Hope got bored quickly and started to wander. I called her back. She said “No!”. I picked her up and she started screaming. I took her to her Dad who took her out to the car. I gave GB the 5 minute warning and when I said time to go, GB said good bye to her friends and we left.
The Dad decided to take his mother out to dinner to night. GB usually goes with him and sometimes MK, too. Hope wanted to go and the Dad did not want to take both of them and told GB she could go next time. GB started having a tantrum. She was really upset that Hope was taking her place. The Dad and Hope left. MK decided she wanted to bring the baby to visit, called the Dad and he came back to switch to the van and pick them up. At that point, GB lost it completely. Everybody left but us. I rode out her rage. After almost 45 minutes I could finally pick out words between the screaming and tears. She said over and over again “my dreams. He took all my dreams”. Melodramatic? Yes. Over the top? Absolutely. My response? I had none. We cuddled and rocked and she fell asleep. When she woke up, she was fine and we are eating pizza while watching her Tinkerbelle DVD. While refilling her drink, I casually asked her what dreams did she lose. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Mommy, I am not even sleeping. How can I dream?”
I am exhausted and I predict GB and I will be asleep long before the rest of the crew gets home. Right now, I am wondering if the Dad and I are even reading the same book.