You may have noticed that I haven't posted much this week.
By way of explanation, it has been a busy and emotionally draining week for me. I have felt that I was too distracted by one issue to be able to focus on anything else. I've been blocked from writing by this monolith, and I couldn't see around it.
Last night it finally occurred to me... The only way to get past feeling overwhelmed by it IS TO WRITE ABOUT IT! It is going to take the thought process I use to write to lead me through the quagmire of my emotions and make some sense of it all.
Shall we proceed into the inner workings of my mind?
(Be careful...It's slippery when wet...)
Friday, February 29. 2008
My Adverse Reaction
The issue plaguing my mind this week concerns my emotions regarding a four-year-old girl who attends my daycare. Let me tell you about this child... She is an absolutely beautiful little girl. Expressive, Junior Mint eyes and a smile that lights up the room. Her voice is musical in its intonations. Even as a baby (she's been with me since she was six months old) she was an easy child. Agreeable, cooperative and pleasant. Of course, I'm not saying she's an angel. Certainly she has had her behavior problems, but in the long list of children I've helped raise, she is among the best-behaved and easiest to appreciate.The Friday before Christmas she came to daycare as usual after morning preschool. I didn't see her again until Monday, February 25.
Over the weekend before Christmas she had developed a severe adverse reaction to a medication prescribed by a doctor. So severe was this reaction, in fact, that she was hospitalized for six weeks! It caused her skin to shed. It has also left her without the ability to make her own tears. Hopefully - in time - her skin will regenerate and her tear ducts will kick in again...
In the meantime, her appearance is quite shocking. At first glance, I was appalled at how different she looked, but that was the easy part to accept. Almost immediately I ascertained that - despite her appearance - she is the very same lovely girl I know and love.
Her return to daycare was triumphant! Her friends gathered by the door and greeted her with smiles and hugs! It was as if the two- and three-year-old who met her at the door saw only the friend they have sorely missed all these weeks. I was so proud of them at the reunion...I was fighting back tears! The first thing she did when she entered the playroom was to walk directly to me and give me big hug and tell me, "I love you, Gina." OK...at that the flood gates opened!As this first week wears on, I am constantly amazed by this girl...the way she deals with her impaired vision (one eye is almost completely swollen shut) and her general lack of energy. She tries to do everything just like before...I really don't think she realizes anything is different. If she does, she sure isn't letting it dampen her spirit! Every time she acts like a "normal" kid this week...shouting, having trouble sharing, getting carried away...I silently cheer. "Yup, same old kid!" It is so reassuring that she has survived this traumatic, life-threatening event emotionally unscathed. Yes, indeed, this sweet child who spent her fourth birthday in the hospital has inspired me! Such resiliency...
OK...now you know that she's doing great.
So what's wrong with me? Why am I having issues?
This situation has got me feeling some things I've never felt before about one of my daycare children. While the bonds I feel with some children have been stronger than with others, I have never felt so protective of a child as I have with her this week.
My usual way with the children is firm but loving. I don't baby anyone. The combination of knowledge and experience has taught me what to expect from children and when. No matter what their less-experienced parents let them get away with at home, under my care, children are encouraged to be "all that they can be." I believe I do them a greater service to teach them to be self-sufficient than to mollycoddle them. Not that I run Baby Boot Camp, but I do believe it is what they need at this point in their life from, as I call myself "Their Grownup In Charge."I am so gung-ho on teaching kids healthy perspective about the little things like not crying over every little bump or disappointment. I try to teach them how to deal with anger so emotions don't escalate. You know, how to take things in stride and "use your thinker." I am a coach and a cheerleader for preschoolers to be prepared to tackle the "big leagues" of Kindergarten and beyond...
I never thought I possess the brand of patience and strength of character it takes to work with children with special needs. I always thought it would just break my heart and spirit to work with children who were anything short of little blobs of endless potential, merely awaiting my tutelage. But with her this week, I can deny her nothing, and expect absolutely nothing from her. If she wants to have me sit with her at the table, or feed her, or sit and read books with her for and hour, well, all she need do is ask. Yesterday she wanted me to hold her and she fell asleep like a baby on my lap. As I stated earlier, she's fine. And although she does need some special care, she doesn't need me to spoil her rotten. But I want to. This instinct goes against my every daycare provider bone, but here it is.
This is surprising to me that I can feel these deep, nurturing feelings for one of my "charges." I want to hold her, protect her and soften every rough edge for her. I am nearly obsessed with worry about her comfort and emotional well-being.
Perhaps it comes from an early hurt I remember. My nephew Larry had leukemia when he was four and five years old. During one of his remissions my mom and I took him with us to the grocery store. He was sitting in the child seat in the shopping cart and a girl walked by and laughed and made comments about the fact that his head was bald (from the chemotherapy). I was about ten years old at the time and I wanted to go off on her! How dare she talk about him like that! Didn't she know what a great and brave kid he was? The answers - of course - were, no, she didn't. She was just responding to his "differentness." Maybe that's what I'm afraid of...that her feelings will get hurt by some unfeeling moron. I don't think my reaction would be any different today in the face of blatant cruelty like that. In her young life she has been through more of a physical challenge than I have in my entire life. I can't help but feel how unjust it is for someone so young to go through such an ordeal...
It all comes down to me discovering the surprising fact that all this has had a greater effect on my psyche than on hers.This has been an educational and eye-opening week for me. I have learned that a child can be very inspirational and that I have greater capacity for caregiving than I ever imagined... (Don't tell anyone, but I might even be a "softy!")
...Not to mention that writing about something that is preying on my mind helps me process my feelings. Writing is my therapy!
It's hard to shake those feelings, isn't it? I have no advice, because I'm not doing so well with that myself. I think anyone who opens their heart to a child is at risk for that type of "adverse reaction" you are talking about.
Good luck to you.
Thank you for really hearing what I was saying about feelings that come up in adults when caring for children.
As much as it is our job to lead and teach children, it amazes me how much we can learn from them about the world and ourselves if we are open-hearted.
I like to think I have an impact on the children entrusted to my care. Otherwise, I wouldn't feel I was doing something worthwhile.
Thanks so much for reading...your comments are always welcome!
Carole
Yes, I think that writing about this issue has been my saving grace. I have been thinking differently about myself since she returned to my care and the writing sure helped me sort it all out.
The kids continue to be lovely where she is concerned, and she continues to improve slowly day by day.
Yup, that emotional bug can bite you on the butt when you least expect it. I am glad you feel so deeply about a child in your care -- it shows you truly SHOULD be doing what you are doing -- they used to call it a vocation. As surprising as it is, it is really nothing but good.
After a lot of contemplation (and writing) I have come to the same conclusion...it is good that I have such deep feelings in this situation.
It really did take me by surprise, but I have accepted that I am a slightly different person than I thought I was and that it is a good thing. I wouldn't want to stop surprising myself, now would I?
Thanks for dropping by and I hope to hear from you again soon!
I thought you would understand the relationship I have with my kiddos.
This reaction knocked me for a loop...wasn't expecting to have such deep feelings. I have learned a thing or two about myself. I hope I never stop doing that!