Yes! I am Psychic!

 I am psychic and yesterday proved it.

 Hope had an awful time getting to school yesterday. I knew she could not hold it together in school, but The Dad overruled me. After I finally got her on the bus, I sent this email to her teacher:

Dear Ms. V.Y. Teacher

 Hope had a very difficult morning. She was extremely physical, kicking and throwing things. I thought of keeping her home, on her mat, but her father chose to send her.

GB’s Mom

At 9:40 AM, I received the following reply:

Dear GB’s Mom,

Hope walked in crying this morning.  She said that she had a hard morning due to GB.  She said that GB hit her and when I asked where she pointed to her face.  Then I asked if she hit her back and she told me no.  She mentioned GB saying that her backpack was “right there” and she didn’t see it.  I am not sure if her rough morning was due to issues with GB, I just wanted to inform you of what she reported to us.  She says she was crying because her dad didn’t give her a hug and kiss goodbye before she got on the bus.  She is fine now.

Ms. V.Y. Teacher

Upon reading this email and further reflection, I decided it was necessary to get the Director of Special Education involved. I sent her an email, too.

Dear Dir

Hope is putting a lot of effort into getting GB into trouble. Last week, she bit herself and told Ms. V.Y. Teacher that GB bit her.  This morning Hope was kicking and throwing things and told Ms V.Y. Teacher that GB hit her in the face. I realize you have no control over what Hope says, but I do request that she get as little attention as possible as a response. Also, when Hope bit herself and blamed it on GB, she was walking from the bus to the classroom. I feel it is necessary at this point for Hope to be closely supervised at all times, especially during the transitions to and from the bus.

GB’s Mom

When I went to get the girls off the bus yesterday afternoon, only GB was on it. Hope had spit at and hit the bus aide and thrown her book bag at the bus driver. Reasonably, she had been removed from the bus and needed to be picked up at school. The Dad was not happy. Hope’s day didn’t get any better.

It is one of those days..

Maybe its the post holiday blues. I did not do Black Friday madness, but my 20 year old nephew did. I waited up for him to get home and it almost three before I got to bed. Maybe it is just tiredness.

Hope is playing up to everybody, except for  gunning for me and GB. Thanksgiving Day Hope scratched GB and left a 4 inch mark. When I tried to talk to Hope, she took a swing at me. The Dad told me to back off and leave her alone. Yesterday, GB left a scratch on Hope. The Dad was all over her, reduced her to tears and removed her from the group. Never mind that Hope was not where she was suppose to be. At bedtime, GB still hadn’t recovered. My sister’s oldest and youngest are both special needs, though bio kids. The 14 year old and GB have always been oil and water. Visits have gotten harder lately, instead of easier.

I am feeling isolated today and hear that two bedroom apartment calling GB and I by name. Hope and I did well this week and in 24 hours, I am back to wondering why I bother trying.

I will post again when I can shake the negativity I am feeling.

A Troubling Week

I start this with the admission both of my little ones are having a rough time. I was hoping it was largely caused by the Dad and I being on different pages, in different books. It is more than that. I took GB into my bed Thursday night and started stroking her face. I moved to her neck, then down her arms. I hummed very softly and waited. GB eventually settled in and started talking. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me or to herself. I listened without breaking my rhythm. At first I thought it was just random thoughts she was throwing out. It wasn’t. After letting her ramble for 15 minutes, she was able to come back to this thought: Hope was really good at acting cute, everybody loves Hope acting cute, and GB has no idea how to handle it. She spoke about how sad she felt when people preferred Hope over her. She spoke wistfully about the kind voices people use with Hope and how much she liked it when people used that voice with her. It doesn’t happen much any more. I kept stroking her and she fell asleep. I cried.

Some changes are easy.  Some changes aren’t. Next week, when I am up again, I will pull Hope from GB’s gymnastic class and put her in a class an hour before GB’s. I will keep GB next to me so I can intervene quickly. I don’t know what else I can try, but I will have to figure it out.

Today, Hope cried and whined all afternoon. Everybody used soothing voices and tried to make everything better. MK and Booboo took her for a walk and gave her money for the dollar store. Not once did anyone get loud or forceful with Hope, even after 6 hours of her screaming, crying, and saying she hate them. GB did not hear that soothing, calming voice from anybody but me.

Sometimes Hope is cute, bright and charming. When she plays cute, it is very different. Her smile is different,  she is running the show. The tears go on and off in a nanosecond. So does her “I am afraid to find my shoes”, “You don’t love me”, ” I just want a hug, that’s all”, onto mindless, high pitch screeching. And yet, after six hours of this, nobody has run out of patience.

Except me.