Hope never made it to summer school. She raged all day. I have my first black eye and lots of new bruises, but we survived until 6 pm, when I put her to bed. We had snippets of real communication occasionally throughout the day- enough to let me know we are dealing with the stuff the AT stirred up in her head.
GB was so together yesterday morning, getting herself out to the bus in the middle of Hope’s first rage. When she came home in the afternoon, she proudly told me how she had coped. She took a pair of The Dad’s dirty shorts to school with her and felt like he was there all day. I am continually amazed at the coping strategies she comes up with!
I am looking for a better day today.