Small Triumphs

I won't lie---the last week has been a tough one.  Janey has been crying a great deal, and has starting with the biting of her arm again, and added a new fun one in---scratching herself badly.  I cut her nails short, and at summertime school, they are keeping a jacket on her all the time for the arm biting (they have AC) but the crying---it's tough.  We really don't know what's up.  It's probably just one of those swings Janey has at times---a bad few weeks, a good few weeks, a great few weeks, a hellish few weeks---and we are never sure why.

But today, there were a few small triumphs, in the middle of a day of screaming and crying.

The first was a good library trip.  Last time at the library, which I wrote about, Janey had a fit.  Today, after picking her up at school, I told her right away we were going to the library, but I was going to just get books at the desk this time, no walking into the stacks.  I also told her if she could be a good girl in the library, we'd get a treat at the CVS, whatever she wanted (the CVS is next to the library).  Janey cried most of the way to the library, so I wasn't hopeful.  But once we got in there, she truly held it together and didn't cry at all, and stayed with me and was perfect.  So off to the CVS we went.  I was thinking that one nice thing about Janey vs. "normal" 8 year olds is that I CAN tell her she can get whatever she wants at the store, because she won't decide that what she wants is all the toys, or a hugely expensive odd thing like an "as seen on TV" wonder knife or something.  She walked right in to the store to the area where the chips are, and for the first time I remember, didn't immediately grab the thing she wanted.  She stood and looked at all the chips for quite a while, and then picked a bag of sour cream and onion ones.  I felt like she really understood the whole deal---the behaving at the library, the treat and even the picking out of the treat.  It felt nice.

When we got home, I had some packing of books I'd sold that I very much needed to do.  I put on The Goofy Movie for Janey, her current favorite, but after watching it a bit, I turned to see she was out of sight.  I was in the middle of taping something, and actually finished the taping---a risky 20 seconds or so---and then went to find Janey.  I found her in the bathroom, and I started looking right away for her usual mischief---toilet paper all over, toothpaste squeezed out, her trying to take a bath with clothes on---but inside, she saw she was wiping herself, after very, very successfully using the big girl potty for what sometimes becomes a huge mess.  I was thrilled.  She has never used the big potty for that on her own before---we've caught her about to go a few times and taken her there, but this was all her.  She got a big high five (after hand washing).

Even though most every moment not described here consisted of crying, I decided to take a risk and go to the post office with her, as I had things that very much needed mailing.  I told her that if she could be good at the post office, we'd get a doughnut.  That was probably too much for today.  She cried most of the time at the post office, even though it was very quick there and the clerk knows her well and was very sweet to her.  When we got out, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said "David Donald Do?  Dreamed a dozen donuts and a duck dog too?"  which is a quote from Dr. Seuss's ABCs.  I got her the doughnut, mostly for understanding what she was supposed to be doing and what the reward was, which is a step forward.

I have been trying, in one of my many tries at a new way of thinking or a new strategy, to see the crying as just a background thing---not something that has to be fixed or dealt with right away.  A few times today, I told Janey to try hard to calm down, and then walked away to give her a minute or two to do so.  That goes against so much of what is my instinct, but it seemed like she was trying.  I praised her a lot for even a minute of non-crying.

Maybe I'm able to see the good in today because it's the weekend, Tony is home for a few days to help, and Janey is going to the respite house for 6 hours tomorrow.  I'm going to keep trying to pick out the good from even the tougher days.

CVS Hell

Janey is happy right now, watching TV and cheerful.  Which is amazing, considering our ride home from afterschool today.  The great high school student that often is with Janey at afterschool reported she had a good day, but started crying just before I got there, which is not uncommon.  I think she knows when it's around time for me to be there, and if I'm not there right when her mind tells her I should be, she freaks out.  She was crying hysterically all the way to the car.  I told her I had chips for her, which made her settle for a minute, until she saw they were cheapo Lays BBQ chips, not the Pringles Salt and Vinegar that I am SUPPOSED to have for the ride home.  She pushed the chips away and screamed "CHIPS PLEASE!" It wasn't really the chips, I know, but that didn't help.  She screamed the first 10 minutes in the car at an unbelievable volume and in an unbelievable tone.  I was just barely able to drive.  She stayed in her seat belt, but writhed around so much I thought of a new fear, that she could unbuckle and jump into the front and cause an accident.  I made a decision---we would stop at the CVS for the chips she wanted.

I tried to use it as a bribe.  I told Janey "They don't allow loud screaming at the CVS.  You need to take a deep breath and calm down if you want to get chips"  She tried.  She really tried, but there was just no calming down.  She was too far gone.  I drove into the CVS parking lot and sat there a minute, trying to decide what to do.  Janey would cause a scene.  There was no avoiding it.  I hate being in a scene, hate being the center of attention.  But I needed to get home.  I knew the chips would buy me 20 minutes of quiet driving, not fearing for my life and hers.  So I took the deep breath instead and took her into the store.

It was as much hell as I thought it would be.  Janey was screaming the unearthly scream the whole time.  To add a little more of a bizarre twist, she also occasionally screamed out a phrase I have no idea where she learned "Ashes to Ashes!  Dust to Dust!"  I haven't taken her to any funerals lately, and I can't imagine any of her kids' videos feature that exact phrase, but who knows?  It added just the little touch of seeming possessed that made the whole thing that much more fun.  Every eye on the crowded store was on us.

I decided somehow, through the screaming and the stares, to just pretend Janey and I were alone in the world, and to do whatever I could to get us through the store and keep her calm.  I held her hand, talked to her in a low voice saying things like "I know how scary it is to feel the way you do. Mama loves you.  You are being a good girl.  Let's get the chips.  Let's get in line.  I am right here with you"  I was far more patient and loving sounding than I felt right then, but I figured I could control my part of the show, and the gawkers didn't need to see a crazed mother too.  I was hoping against hope someone would take pity and let us go ahead of them in line, but no such luck.  The woman ahead of me seemed to go as slowly as she possibly could, while repeatedly glaring at me to let me know how much she was being disturbed.  When I finally got to the counter, the cashier asked for my CVS card, and I said as cheerily as I could "I have one, but I can't get it right now!"  Yeah---because if I started searching for it, my daughter would escape and run screaming around your store, lady.  I handed her cash and got out of there.

In the car, as I expected, Janey ate the chips and I made it home.  She had a few more crying spells, but overall, she's over it.

Now, did I do the right thing?  I don't know.  To an outsider, it might look like I was giving in to Janey.  But I don't think I was.  She was upset, but not really about the chips.  The chips were just a part of the routine that wasn't met, and a tool to calm her down.  I needed to get home safely, and that wasn't going to happen unless I did something, so I did.

I can understand why people stare at Janey when she is acting the way she does.  I can't really blame them.  But I wish they would just catch my eye and smile, or at least not be quite so open with the staring.  I would think they would realize that I don't enjoy going in the store and disturbing their evenings.  I'd rather, quite frankly, do almost anything else on earth.  But Janey is a human being, one who, despite her sometimes very tough behavior, is part of the world, the community.  Figuring out how to make that work is not easy sometimes.