My apologies. This post is a cathartic rant. Feel free to skim read. (Or not read at all.)
Today I have spent the day with people who have listened but not heard.
Them: Why would she find Christmas so difficult?
Me: She was moved from her birth family five days after Christmas, in the middle of the night. I’d be a bit worried if she didn’t find it ‘difficult’. Plus, everything changes around her. She doesn’t know what’s coming next.
Them: Well, it’s up to you to make it a positive time.
Me: No it’s up to me to listen to what my daughter is telling (showing) me and respect that. If she can’t ‘do’ Christmas, then we won’t ‘do’ Christmas. We’ll keep it as laid back as possible for her.
Them: Oh but you have to make it magical for her.
Me: She can’t do magic. It’s scary and unpredictable.
Them: Well every time she talks about something negative, you turn it into a positive for her.
Me: But if every time she tries to tell (show) me that she’s not okay and I tell her that she is, she’ll stop wanting to tell me.
Them: No, we weren’t saying that.
In my head I’m screaming.
I wanted to shout, “I’m sorry that I could’t bear you perfect grandchildren. I’m sorry that my children are ruining your ideal of what grandchildren should be. I’m sorry that you can’t hear what I’m saying. I’m sorry that you think we’re doing everything wrong and that we need to just ‘relax’ a little bit.”
But mostly I wanted to shout, “She needs you to understand this. She needs you to know that she finds it hard. She needs you to be there for her”
She needs you to listen to her and to HEAR what she’s saying. Even when she’s not saying it.
She needs to know that you accept her and everything that comes with her.
But what do I know?
On a lighter note, we stopped to have tea at the services. When I nipped to the loo, Little shouted across the tables, “You be okay all by yourself mummy? Make sure you go to the girls ones toilets.”!