Perfect

Late yesterday Butterfly Girl hurts Brother. She grabs his cheek and pinches. It has been a long time since Butterfly hurt Brother. I think she is feeling pressure- too much pressure about school.

She often asks now if she is going to have to leave Teacher's class. I don't know what to say. Yes, if you continue to hurt friends at school. or No, we are working hard together. Don't worry. Please don't worry your little head over it. But what happens if she does get kicked out- she will lose all trust in me. I don't know what to say anymore.

We were a little late on Friday morning drop off. The second bell had just rung when we walked in the door. It is always very tricky timing. If we are too late, it is hard for Butterfly to assimilate in to the group. If we are too early, Butterfly will get rambunctious with the other kids. Running, chasing...

The other parents stand around talking and laughing at their kids antics. All I hear or see is Butterfly. It takes complete focus to notice the tiny shift towards over stimulation I know when she is on the line - about ready to cross over, lose control of her body. I hear myself telling her over and over- settle down please. let's not chase right now. let's use our quiet voice. Butterfly is doing nothing different than the other kids. I tell myself to relax. Stop nagging. I pray the door opens soon- before something happens. I always feel lots of pressure in the morning...lots of tension. I imagine she does too.

On Friday morning, all the kids were already sitting on the rug. Butterfly runs in and gets her place on the rug. I put her backpack away. I stand off to the side trying to catch her eye. She is staring off in to space. I can't catch her eye to blow a kiss. Finally, I choose to leave. Just as I round the corner, I hear her yelling for me- Wait! I love you! I want a hug!

I quickly run back around the corner but she has already been pulled back inside by the aide. I peek through the window. She is on the rug, in a ball, covering her head. I think she is crying. One of her friends notices me through the window and tries to get Butterfly to look up. She doesn't. I wait a little longer until I hear Teacher snap at the friend- just leave her alone! I slowly turn to leave.

That night, before bed, I tell her I am sorry. She lashes out and runs under the kitchen chair, curling into a ball, covering her head. Go away! I don't like you! I sit on the floor. I say I am sorry. I just sit quietly. Scared to reach out to my own Butterfly Girl. I try to give her space when all I want to do is scoop her up and hold her.

Eventually, she talks. why didn't you come and get me?! I needed a hug! I needed you! I tell her maybe I made the wrong choice. I am sorry. She is always in my heart. She slowly crawls out from under the chair. Still keeping her distance from me. Her eyes are wet with tears. She is looking deep inside me. We make a pact, a very solemn promise, to always have a clear good bye, complete with a hug.

She finally crawls into my lap. I hold her so tightly. I wish that I could be perfect for her.

Apologize

Friday. Another rough day on the Yard. It dawns on me that maybe Butterfly Girl was playing Princess Prisoner because the Yard feels like a prison. The whole school feels like that to me now. Butterfly did not tell Partner about what happened Friday at school. We found out from Teacher instead.

This time Teacher saw the whole thing. Butterfly accidentally bumped into a boy in class. He turned around and punched her hard. She pushed him. He hit her again before Teacher could break it up. Both kids went to see Principle.

Principle wanted them both to apologize. Butterfly was crying because she was hurt (and I imagine scared). The boy apologizes. Butterfly refuses. She says she is hurt. Principle insists she apologize. Butterfly refuses. She is left in the conference room alone. Eventually, Principle lets her return to class. Teacher let's her draw in the corner until my partner arrives for end of day pick up. Does anyone remember that she is only 5 years old??!!

Teacher warns us that the boy's dad will probably approach us- angry about what happened. Apparently, he has been notorious for confronting other parents. I am so tired of all of this. I could really care less what the crazy man says or does to me. I just pray it isn't in front of Butterfly on Monday morning.

PRISONER

It has been a long week. Thursday afternoon. School recess. On the yard. Butterfly Girl runs wildly through the playground. She is laughing. She is engaging with another little girl. They are playing Princess Prisoner. Laughing. Chasing. And then Capture. The other little girl is the prisoner and Butterfly holds her captive by leading her around the playground by her arm.

Principle has been watching Butterfly very closely since the big Meeting. She quickly jumps in, pulling both girls into the Office for a firm lecture. At pick up, Teacher says nothing to my partner about the incident. On the walk home, Butterfly tells Partner she was sent to Principle's office. She had to sit in the conference room by herself.

Partner calls Principle. Principle is very bitchy. Principle describes what she observed, pushing the word "prisoner" out of her mouth like it is diseased... the sound of the word heavy with accusation- what the hell do you teach your kid? Questions from Partner. No, Butterfly and friend were playing. No, no one was hurt. Principle did not find their game acceptable. Principle made a judgment call.

Principle wants us to know that she is now documenting everything. She started with this instance. It feels like she does not want Butterfly Girl at her school. I am having a harder and harder time telling myself Principle is on my side. Partner already hates her. I must be the balance. I must continue to attend the PTA meetings. I must continue to write grants for the school. I must continue to smile at Principle, Teacher, the other mothers. I don't feel like it anymore though.

School has moved to a dark place. I remember how thrilling it was the first few weeks. A community. A place where we all had something in common- kindergartners.

ok, ok already

We survived the big meeting at School. We sat around one of those liitle tables with small chairs with Teacher, the principle, the school psychologist, the resource specialist, the counselor and an intern. My partner and I came away with two very different perspectives of the meeting. I always see the glass half full. Partner always sees it half empty. That is probably why we make a good team.

I was happy that so many people wanted to be involved in helping Butterfly Girl be successful. Partner felt like they were all saying negative things about Butterfly Girl. Principle did say more than once that Butterfly Girl will be suspended next time she hurts someone. The first time she said it, I said I understood. The sixth time she said it, I thought ok, ok, I got it. And, that is when my Partner, through tears, said Butterfly Girl was already being labeled. We have observed firsthand more than once another student spitting on Butterfly Girl. She spits back. The other student runs and tells Teacher who then yells at Butterfly Girl. Let's remember that these are 5 year olds we are talking about.

Psychologist does not want to give her an assessment because Butterfly Girls behavior does not seem to be impacting her learning. She is very bright and can stay focused on the lessons. We came up with several ideas. One, a counselor will pick up Butterfly Girl after recess to walk her back to class- always a difficult time for her- that transition from no structure to structure. Butterfly Girl will also start group with other kids that have social, emotional challenges. It is called a Friendship Group. That will start in January. We will also see if the counselor can meet with her more often- 2x week. Teacher agreed to help Butterfly Girl by scheduling frequent breaks from activities where Butterfly can go to a different area of the class rooom and color. We will also create a box of feey things - one at home and one at school. When Butterfly feels the urge to go touch a classmate, she will be redirected to the box.

I told them that Butterfly said she feels lonely and sad at school. Teacher said that classmates are saying they don't want to sit next to Butterfly or be in her group. Teacher said she trys not to single her out in class but the other students already "know" that Butterfly is different. It breaks my heart.

We will meet again in February to assess progress. Half days for Butterfly are still in the bucket of possibilites. Principle reminded us one more time at closing the Butterfly will have to be suspended if she hurts anyone again. Ok, ok already.

Skirts and Shorts

Last night I reminded Butterfly Girl that today was School. It was not met with enthusiasm like it was the first two weeks of School. Instead a big groan and pleading to stay home. When I asked her why she didn't want to go, she said the other kids made fun of her and teased her. She had no friends. I remember that feeling too. Butterfly Girl said the kids tease her because she always wears dresses and never shirts and skirts. I told her it is okay to be different and reminded her of the book we read of the same title. Kids can be so mean.

This morning she chose to wear a skirt and shirt. She had the best day ever at school. She told me through a sheepish grin that she even got to choose from the prize bucket at the end of the day. I never even knew there was a prize bucket. When I asked Butterfly Girl how that had made her feel she said "not so good." I couldn't believe it. She said she didn't "much like working so hard to follow the rules". It was my turn to smile. That's my Butterfly Girl. But she has clung to the tiny toy all night, even in the bathtub. I think somewhere inside herself, she is pretty proud of her accomplishment.

Tomorrow is the Big Day. We have our meeting at school for the the SST. I still haven't filled out the required paperwork- not sure I want to commit ink to paper. I am scared I will make a mistake, something I can't change and that will somehow lead her down a path in the System that I am supposed to have the insight and forethought to avoid. I am hoping sometime before the meeting I will have a clear head and I will be provided with the "right" way to present my little girl... to narrow down five years into check boxes and short narratives.

Warrior

We had our meeting with Ms. L. She is a very nice woman, super tall and very skinny. She was good at joking around with Butterfly Girl. She gave us a "tour" of the system. I now know that the SST meeting we have planned for next week is the first step towards special ed. Teacher seemed to have forgotten to mention that to us.

But Ms. L said we should move forward- she cautioned us about the system though. The system will make you feel like they know best, that they will be the one making decisions for Butterfly Girl. Remember, she tells us, you are the only one that can make decisions for Butterfly.

She also says the system is linear. We need to be careful what we share with the administrators, teachers and others. We need to remember they are only thinking about the classroom and how behavior impacts learning. It would be easier if I could pour my heart out and have the "Student Success Team" working for Butterfly's best interest. Apparently, that is not how the system works.

I ask Ms. L about special ed classes, in case the system tries to push Butterfly in that direction. Again, she cautions us. Most special ed classes are not as academically challenging. Butterfly actually excels in her academics and has been noted to need more advanced challenges. Don't let her get tossed into a class where she sits and rots, she tells us.

This meeting has made me feel like a warrior. We must move forward with caution and yet fierce protectiveness. We must plan what we say and how we say it. We must analyze every course of action the system recommends and come back with a counter plan. The system might help but only if we form it, shape it and mold it to fit Butterfly Girl. And Butterfly Girl is one of a kind, always morphing. There will be no quick fix.

Therapy Shmerapy

Today we have an appointment with a therapist. Ms. L came through a friend that I have told a little bit about Butterfly Girl. Ms. L is doing this first meeting for free. We don't have money to pay for fancy pants therapist that charge $150 hour. Although, we did pay for one once anyway.

We went to this therapist- the first session was ok. Just my partner and me. We talked about Butterfly Girl. Therapist said nothing particularly enlightening or insightful, but she also didn't throw any red flags. We returned the next week with Butterfly Girl. In a very small room the four of us sat, our knees almost touching. Therapist got out small plastic people and scattered them on the floor. She instructed Butterfly to use the dolls to play out the teasing she was getting on the playground. Butterfly Girl was more interested in the cool toys behind Therapist that she was not allowed to touch. When it was fianlly time to leave (a therapist hour later), Butterfly defiantly grabbed a toy off the shelf and gripped it in her little hand. I felt like laughing, wildly and uncontrollably. I wanted to grab one of the damn toys too and run off down the hall with Butterfly Girl. We never went back but we are stll paying $20 month on the bill.


Right now we are working "in the system". Butterfly Girl sees an intern at the school once a week for free. Intern seems okay and, although she looks 12 years old, she assures us she is completing her masters degree. She doesn't ahve kids. The School Psychologist won't see Butterfly until she has a "diagnosis". If it is not the School Psycholgist, we are not sure who is supposed to "diagnose" her. I will be sure to ask Psychologist at the SST meeting next week.

So, we are very excited to have an opportunity with Ms. L this afternoon. She has over 15 years of experience working with "kids like Butterfly Girl." I cling to those words- part of it making me pissed off but part of me desperatly wanting to believe there is someone that can look at my child and tell me that it is "really quite obvious...this is what is going on...and this is what you need to do". Once again, I place everything that means something to me in the hands of some stranger. And I haven't even seen her yet.

I have a dream some nights. I am at a playground. It is full of kids "like Butterfly Girl". Some are twirling, some are yelling, some are counting, some are coloring, some are running, some are quiet. I am sitting with other parents. I am totally relaxed. Nothing our kids are doing seems out of place. We are laughing as we share stories of melt downs in stores and the kid's latest "behaviour" that has us at wits ends. I often wake up crying. Not because I am sad. I am relieved. For a moment, if only in a dream, I have others who understand. I can see Butterfly Girl finally free. I willl find that place. I will find that place.

The Playground in the Morning

Today Teacher gave us paperwork to fill out. We will meet next week for a SST (Student Success Team Meeting). Of course, I am trying to be open minded but I already feel a shift in Teacher. I can tell she is frustrated- no longer my answer to all our questions. I feel like she is even more than frustrated- fed up fits better. I feel like the other moms in class are looking at us differently. Being more stand offish.

It has happened at every school. Butterfly Girl has been to 5 in just 5 short years. I always second guess myself. Try to tell myself that I am just reading into it. I imagine that it must be me- I have started to give off a different vibe to Teacher and the other mothers. But I don't think I am imagining it. Butterfly Girl has stopped getting invites for play dates. The mother's stop talking when I walk up. I keep my head high. I don't care- I won't care. I love my kid.

In the yard before the school door opens, I find that Butterfly Girl and I are are alone together, off to the side not talking to anyone. I don't want her to feel like I do so I smile and say hello to everyone - I try to demonstrate how being friendly will overcome any meanness. Unfortunately, it doesn't work for me either. Mothers still avoid me. I am remembering from days long past that a playground can feel so lonely.

But Butterfly Girl and I will persevere. We will find a place somewhere, someday where we are not different. Until that day, we will hold our heads up and walk through the playground together.

Wake UP

This morning, like most mornings, my stomach was in knots as I sat on the edge of the bed preparing to wake Butterfly Girl. The whole day usually revolves on how the wake up goes. There is pressure to make it a good wake up because she needs to have a good day at school.

Last week Teacher told us that we might have to begin picking her up before recess. She would not be allowed to stay for the afternoon. Only Butterfly Girl would go home early. All the rest of her classmates would stay. The words from the teacher were falling like a waterfall over me..disruptive, loud, uncontrollable, fidgety, requires extra attention... I try to find a balance- not defensive, open, understanding of the teacher and yet a passionate advocate for my little one. It is too much to hold together for long so I end the conversation as soon as I hear Teacher say she can try again this week but it must be good.

I haven't realized the pressure until recently. The constant agonizing over how the play date will go, how time with brother will go, how school will go, how dinner out will go, how the visit from family will go, how the playground will go, how the friend's birthday party will go...I never fully realized until recently. But this morning, I am fully aware. She is so beautiful and peaceful sleeping - I hate to wake her. I feel like sleep is a refuge for her- a place where everything quiets down. I gently call her name and begin to wake her. First I pull the covers off- met with groans. Then I softly start talking about school- I am met by the fierce look, sticking tongue out, teeth grinding-- so angry. Her little body actually shaking as she grips hands into fists. I have to make a move to turn it around quick- should I be firm or funny today - there is no pattern as to what what will work. I opt for a tickle. Today, the tickle lights her eyes up and from deep comes a belly laugh. We both laugh. We are going to be okay this morning. I am thankful for that.

The Beginning

I think I knew early on that Butterfly Girl was different. I am embraced it savagely, defiantly. My daugther was special. Now, Butterfly Girl is five years old. This blog will serve as a record of our journey into the unknown. Some call it mental illness. Others attribute it parenting mistakes. And still others call it childhood rebellion. I call it a journey into being. With all the love a parent can have for their child, let the journey begin.