As Sarah and I drove to her annual audiology appointment she informed me that she was a safari driver pointing out the red Xs that we were passing. As she continued to talk it took me a moment to realize the new name she was using to refer to herself: That’s Right. Once I realized it I burst into loud guffaws. Her favorite song of the moment is “Penguin Lament” by Sandra Boyton. Her favorite line is, “We’re a little too cute, oh yes that’s right, we’re all dressed up, and we’re gonna have a party tonight.” Thus the name “That’s right” was born. Sarah’s mind is so fluid with purposeful word substitutions and with new name creations that I often think she is waiting for us to catch up with her creativity.
Earlier in the week at a routine check-up with her neurologist, the nurse was talking to Sarah more than to me, treating Sarah as the grown-up individual that she is. And yet, it was good I was there to set matters straight because when the nurse asked Sarah if she smoked or vaped, Sarah said yes! I can assure you that she does not. I don’t think she even knows what vaping is.
While this week had such moments of delight, there were also some challenging moments. I’m not sure if it was Sarah picking up on the general stress that might be in the air at this time of year, or if it was her own personal stress, but she had some gigantic screamy feelings after our printer ran out of toner. She loves printing things so much that she can get on a tear of wanting to keep printing forever, or that’s how it feels to me. So I claimed not to know where the replacement toner was. That was technically true, though I’m sure I could have found it if I looked. Sarah’s big feelings lasted for a long time. She had other times of being very upset when Amy was in the bathroom, which is an oldie but goodie in the department of upsets. The interesting thing was that earlier in the week when Amy went into the bathroom, Sarah came running downstairs to find me to ask me to rub her feet, which was an impressive feat (ahem) of taking care of herself and maintaining her equilibrium.
It’s so easy to judge Sarah and myself and come up short when I’m condemning meltdowns and feelings, but then I thought I could see her as my trainer. In the same way that I go to see my physical trainer at the gym and he makes me do hard things to get stronger, I could see Sarah as my emotional trainer. She always invites me to stretch myself and become more of the person I want to be. Long ago when I decided to take a French class in college, it was with the idea that it would make me a better person. A few years later when I wanted to be a massage therapist, it was with the thought that such a path would help me become more of the person I had always wanted to be. I don’t think I had that overt intention with becoming a mom, though it is the profession I most wanted from the earliest time I can remember learning that I could be a mom. I didn’t have words for the reason I wanted to be a mom, other than perhaps wanting to pour my love so strongly into another person and have that deep connection. I can now appreciate that being a mom – especially to Sarah – has helped me become more of who I want to be, and the training sessions will continue. That’s right!
I wanted to get a shirt for a 70s themed New Year’s Eve party that we are going to, so I went to a thrift store that specializes in vintage clothing. I found some spectacular items, including the best ugly Christmas sweater I have ever seen. I’m not sure if it is vintage or brand new, but I can tell you that this sweater and I have been looking for each other our whole lives. The sleeves are covered with silver sequins, the neckline has shiny attachments that look like flat ornaments, but the best part is the large pink flamingos wearing sunglasses and Santa hats.
Yesterday Amy and Carl went skiing for the first time this season. Amy recently received a tiny pink axolotl stuffed animal. Although it didn’t go skiing with her, she did make a tiny pair of paper skiis for it and set it up with crayons as ski poles. Then she and Carl went on their adventure. They had a wonderful time, and Amy even survived going down a blue diamond (intermediate level) that got the best of her last year. This year she didn’t fall, but she said she needed 105% of her brain focused on getting down the mountain. Each time she tells someone about it, the number of heart attacks she reports having on the way down increases. She told Carl she had 5, but she told me she had 11. By the time her bestie arrived for the weekend the count was at 15.
I wish you all some guffaws of surprised delight. Yes, that’s right!
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