TigerGrrl is growing up. She's 5'2" or so. She just attended the "adolescence is heading toward you like a runaway train and you have so much to look forward too" class in school.
She talked with me about it. Not reluctantly, not after me prompting her. Nope. We sat on the stairs of ChezFoil and discussed puberty, testes, ovaries, vaginas, penises, breasts, body hair, and stupid slang words for all of the above. She's glad she has Girl Stuff by Kaz Cooke to refer to, as well as the revised Our Bodies, Ourselves.
Me, I'm just happy my girl feels comfortable talking about all the stuff that mortified me at age 10 and 11. And she feels comfortable talking to me about it.
And yet she's still my little girl who, when she can't sleep, comes into my room to cuddle with me. I want her to stay my little girl (who's taller than many adult women) just a little bit longer.
April 21, 2010
April 4, 2010
Rebirth
As I age, I really get why the early Christians stole the pagan festivals of rebirth and slated the resurrection as a Spring holiday. I took a lengthy hike on the C&O canal towpath yesterday, and today I hiked on a trail in Rock Creek Park, all in between doing a lot of free lance work for Uber that will go toward a down payment on a decent cello for TG. We've had an economy model on rental, and just upgraded (the day after her last sleep walking/hearing stuff episode, which scared me skinny, which ain't easy to do, so what did I do in the wake of that: splurged on my girl with a cello upgrade) to a "standard" rental, full-size. The nice cello rental guy at Brobst Violins (or an equivalent store) said he had never rented a full-size cello to a ten-year old before. TG is continuing for her third year of cello next year (She can play Pachelbel's Canon! She can play Ode to Joy!) and since, while she's not the next Yo Yo Ma, her Mama thinks she's pretty nifty, it's time to start saving for a purchase.
But this weekend was a recuperative weekend (I didn't sleep much last week) and the great weather and budding everything really did help. Also, TG is just blooming, so while I will remain vigilent, I'm not going to overthink or worry. Easier said than done.
But that goal is more easily achieved after nice walks in the Spring foliage. Just the smell gets me feeling better.
But this weekend was a recuperative weekend (I didn't sleep much last week) and the great weather and budding everything really did help. Also, TG is just blooming, so while I will remain vigilent, I'm not going to overthink or worry. Easier said than done.
But that goal is more easily achieved after nice walks in the Spring foliage. Just the smell gets me feeling better.
April 2, 2010
Nothing to Fear But Fear Itself
Something happened last week that filled me with fear. I was not diagnosed with a mortal illness. My last pap smear (two weeks ago) was just fine. I had a mammogram this morning, and the technician didn't make any tsking sounds or say "Let's wait for the doctor." so all is good there. Sven hasn't done anything more moronic than losing his jobs, getting admitted to a substance abuse program, and scaring the shit out of his mother (and presumable his father as well). I have a trip to the Atlantic Coast of Florida to see FoilMormor in a couple of weeks. NuclearGrammy and Aunt Elsebet are both doing well. Cousin Roland's wife is actually recovering from her ostomy repair and she and Roland are rebuilding after their baby's death.
My work is busy and fairly enjoyable, despite some needy, nudgy colleagues who haven't learned that "I want it" isn't even a good argument for me to do something when it comes from the mouth of either DestructoGirl or TigerGrrl. PdeFF is back from foreign climbs so I'm not a single mother 24/7, just 24/3.5.
What scared the hair off my legs (yes, I should shave more often, but really, I don't give a flying fuck) was this: a little less than two weeks ago, I was sound asleep enjoying a lack of insomnia that only an insomniac can appreciate, when I woke to hear my bedroom door open. At first, I thought DG had had a night-time accident and wanted a clean t-shirt and a dry bed (mine); it wasn't. It was TG, saying she couldn't sleep because she was too hot and there was a voice in her head so she couldn't sleep.
I want a hero of the Soviet Union award for not displaying any fear. I didn't give my daughter any indication that what she had said pretty much disembowelled me.
I invited my daughter to cuddle with me, did not say "You're hearing voices? That's what your Insane Father does. We're doomed!" No. I used my inborn powers of deceit and said: "Honey, if you can't sleep, you come to me. You've done the right thing." I got her a cool washcloth for her forehead, and she climbed into bed with me, clutched me like Mr. Scratchy (her favorite nous-nous, Aka stuffed animal, from CookieDear) and promptly fell asleep, complete with cute not-so-little snoring noises that let me know her insomnia was gone.
Of course, my insomnia was back. In the mornin, TG woke up, a little tired, but lucid and with no altered demeanor or affect. I got her to school, caught the Metro to work, and immediately called MNOT and left her a message telling her that I needed her to call me back, it was an emergency. Then I got online and searched for medical and other histories of pre-adolescents hearing voices.
Which was a huge relief. Lots of kids hear voices. Thirty percent of all kids hear voices, and most are normal, sane children. This relieves me, but doesn't total alleviate worry. Because of course, PdeFF is batshit insane. His hallucinations were mainly olfactory, not auditory, but really. And TG has a mother with depression, and other mental illness on her maternal side. And this shit can be hereditary.
MNOT was very reassuring. Obviously, I need to be vigilant and I need to find out what TG was hearing (upon further questioning, TG told me the voice said nothing, but just sounded angry). Apparently, kids can have waking dreams or hear voices and not have any mental illness problems.
Not that I'm taking that as a given either. But mood changes (beyond those of impending adolescence) are apparently the real worry, and those aren't makin an appearance.
But my insomnia is back.
My work is busy and fairly enjoyable, despite some needy, nudgy colleagues who haven't learned that "I want it" isn't even a good argument for me to do something when it comes from the mouth of either DestructoGirl or TigerGrrl. PdeFF is back from foreign climbs so I'm not a single mother 24/7, just 24/3.5.
What scared the hair off my legs (yes, I should shave more often, but really, I don't give a flying fuck) was this: a little less than two weeks ago, I was sound asleep enjoying a lack of insomnia that only an insomniac can appreciate, when I woke to hear my bedroom door open. At first, I thought DG had had a night-time accident and wanted a clean t-shirt and a dry bed (mine); it wasn't. It was TG, saying she couldn't sleep because she was too hot and there was a voice in her head so she couldn't sleep.
I want a hero of the Soviet Union award for not displaying any fear. I didn't give my daughter any indication that what she had said pretty much disembowelled me.
I invited my daughter to cuddle with me, did not say "You're hearing voices? That's what your Insane Father does. We're doomed!" No. I used my inborn powers of deceit and said: "Honey, if you can't sleep, you come to me. You've done the right thing." I got her a cool washcloth for her forehead, and she climbed into bed with me, clutched me like Mr. Scratchy (her favorite nous-nous, Aka stuffed animal, from CookieDear) and promptly fell asleep, complete with cute not-so-little snoring noises that let me know her insomnia was gone.
Of course, my insomnia was back. In the mornin, TG woke up, a little tired, but lucid and with no altered demeanor or affect. I got her to school, caught the Metro to work, and immediately called MNOT and left her a message telling her that I needed her to call me back, it was an emergency. Then I got online and searched for medical and other histories of pre-adolescents hearing voices.
Which was a huge relief. Lots of kids hear voices. Thirty percent of all kids hear voices, and most are normal, sane children. This relieves me, but doesn't total alleviate worry. Because of course, PdeFF is batshit insane. His hallucinations were mainly olfactory, not auditory, but really. And TG has a mother with depression, and other mental illness on her maternal side. And this shit can be hereditary.
MNOT was very reassuring. Obviously, I need to be vigilant and I need to find out what TG was hearing (upon further questioning, TG told me the voice said nothing, but just sounded angry). Apparently, kids can have waking dreams or hear voices and not have any mental illness problems.
Not that I'm taking that as a given either. But mood changes (beyond those of impending adolescence) are apparently the real worry, and those aren't makin an appearance.
But my insomnia is back.
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