Emotional roller coaster week for Riley. She’s still not quite back to her baseline. So much screaming.
It feels like the family is holding on by a thread. Actually, Seth is seeming quite okay, but he’s gone a lot at school. He’s begging to be homeschooled next year too, but man little buddy, you might just need the break.
Riley’s cello teacher finally came out and said it; she doesn’t feel qualified to teach her. She thinks a different instrument would be better. Like piano. She’s taught cello for decades, and decades, but she can’t teach my girl. I feel like laughing one of those crazy laughs, one that might turn into a cry, but just hangs on maniacally instead.
So many people think we are making a big deal out of nothing with this kid. Let her be! She’s FINE! She’ll be FINE! You hover! I just don’t seeee it?
It’s the teachers who get it though. The teachers understand what we are dealing with. The slightest bit of constructive criticism is cause for self flagellation. This week at cello she had three meltdowns (in a half hour) and crawled under a piano to hide. All because the teacher was making minor adjustments regarding her bow grip and finger placement. In a kind voice.
At clay class today, Todd (he had the pleasure, since he was off work) had to take her out in the hall three different times. The last time, as he was trying to talk her off the cliff, out of the corner of his eye, he noted Jingle starting to squat. She proceeded to have diarrhea right there in the hall.
Insert Todd’s maniacal laugh.
The good news is, it jolted Riley out of her meltdown. The bad news is, there wasn’t a paper towel on the premises, so Todd had to make several trips down a long hallway to a bathroom and sop it up with toilet paper.
Three cheers for Todd.
Earlier in the week, at a local park, Riley was trying to climb and it was not a good climbing day. She was on the play structure screaming, and we were trying to give her space to let her work it through (but that never quite happened). It was unseasonably cold. I was shivering and Todd said…, wait for it…
“I’m freezing my yippee off.”
A new term. Folks, this is what happens when you suppress your God given drive to swear. Let this be a warning.
And another HT anecdote, just to cheer me up from the cello bomb, is this: At the end of church service the congregation joins hands in a circle and sings Let There Be Peace On Earth (and let it begin with me…). Well,Todd is really only used to holding hands with me or the kids, and he absentmindedly, inadvertently locked fingers with the grown man next to him. It took a couple of beats, but this suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and he had to rather awkwardly extract his digits and switch to the regular fingers/palm hand holding position. He told me about the whole fiasco later.
I don’t know why I find this so funny, but I do. There is a hand holding etiquette, no? I wouldn’t be locking fingers with just anyone, that’s for sure.
“You’re not writing about yippee, are you?” he asks as he sees me chuckling and tap tap tapping on the keyboard. I’ve been threatening to out yippee all week.
“Not only that,” I say.
He pauses at the bottom of the steps, sighs, and says,
“Write whatever you want if it gets you smiling again.”
Then, he turns and walks up the steps toward bed.