Well, one month into a new school year and counting. Feels like fall, getting cool, wet, windy, lots of leaves in the gutter. Had the fireplace lit last night. Kate had a "relapse" morning yesterday, for lack of a better term. Apparently she had been told by her teacher and the school librarian that she had not returned a certain book to the library, and would not be allowed to borrow any more books until said book was returned. However, Kate was quite certain that she had never borrowed the book in question in the first place. In typical Kate fashion, she did not relay this to me calmly, but rather let it stew inside her until she came to me with the story, bursting into tears as she told me about it. I managed to soothe her by assuring her I would personally talk to both her teacher and the librarian and sort it all out. Now, she first told me of all this on Friday. The Thanksgiving long weekend followed, and she didn't mention it once during that time. But then Tuesday morning rolled around. She might have coped alright, except that unfortunately we were not expecting any of my daycare kids that day, in particular her touchstone J. And so she could hold it together no longer, out poured all her fears and tears, and she spent the entire morning before school in a state of total hysteria. Of course it all worked out in the end, I spoke with the teachers, the librarian hunted around and lo and behold located the book on the shelves where it belonged, and she had a conversation with Kate about what had happened. But before all that we - meaning myself and her sisters - had to endure a morning of high emotional distress, not to mention the state that Kate got herself into. Sure, she doesn't lose it maybe as often as she did this time last year. But when she does it is so hard for her to pull it back together again. Not to mention the fact that now when it happens I have noticed that her body odor becomes very strong, not usual for the average 7 year old, but I guess to be expected from one who is going through extreme duress. Once she had finally calmed down slightly yesterday morning I checked her to see if I could smell any trace of B.O., and sure enough there it was. Obviously the last thing I wanted to do was make her feel bad again, so without a word I fetched my deodorant - an all natural brand - from upstairs and showed it to her. She nodded, lifted her shirt and let me apply some to her underarms. Guess this was one case where having an open bathroom door policy helped me out - she has seen me use deodorant daily on myself, and knows what it's for.
Anyway, we survived another emotionally disastrous morning, and today J arrived bright and early, and everything was smooth sailing. I find myself depending heavily on the presence of a 9 year old to get us through our days - perhaps I could clone her so I will never have to be without her?
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