August 2012 (Fits and Starts)

First Corn Dog

Picasso Al Fresco

She kept pushing my hands away - wanted to hang on "by myself"

Tag indulging her dress-up passion before school

Big Changes

We love her day care.  They have poured love into Evey since she started attending at six months old.  Her latest teachers in particular have become part of our family - both Erin and Janessa love Ev as if she were their own (which, in a way, she is).  All her classmates are her buds and we've gone to all kinds of birthday parties lately as they all turn 3.  Such a great bunch.

Well, August is the time of year when everybody shifts classrooms. All of Ev's classroom was moving up.  This was inevitable.  What we didn't expect though, was that Ev would move up one class, and all her friends would move up two.  Ev and Adrian were left behind because they were the youngest.  So Ev was suddenly in a new classroom, with new teachers (who were new to Heartsong...), and with a bunch of new kids who were still in diapers.  Hmm.

We gave it a try for a couple weeks...but those were bumpy weeks.  And I couldn't help but wonder, is this the right time to go ahead and make the change to the Montessori school that I knew I wanted her to attend...?  I mean, as long as there's big disruption going on anyway, and since Ev will basically plateau in learning at daycare (not to mention boredom...)...  But it was tricky.  I certainly didn't want to push her too soon.

Cue the Epic Fits

At about the same time, Ev started throwing Epic Mind Boggling Froth At The Mouth Fits.  Don't know if it was just coincidence... Don't know if it was triggered by the changes at school...or the last push of her molars...or simply fate doling out payback (ask my mom).  All I know is that one moment I was bringing home my sweet cheerful two year old from daycare, and the next instant she's throwing herself on the rug in an incosolable, writhing fit on a scale that I had never witnessed in my life before.  Over NOTHING.  I mean, I think it might have been because I didn't hear what she said and had to ask her to repeat it.  Or maybe it was because she didn't like where her shoes landed when she kicked them off.  I'm sayin' it was triggered by thin air.  And I was completely unprepared.  I tried to console her and simply let her know I was there (she wouldn't let me touch her).  If I walked away she would scream for me, but walk toward her and she screamed almost in pain.  I was in way over my head.  Took a while, that first one, but it did come to an end, and we cuddled in shared exhaustion, both a bit shocked by the whole thing.

The next one I remember (and will remember for eternity) was in the Target parking lot.  Actually, it started inside, but I had already finished shopping and even paying for a cart full of stuff.  She wanted a hot dog, and I knew we were edging close to a hunger episode, so we stopped at that snack bar they have near the front door.  Bought the dog, put the ketchup on it for her, and next thing I know, it's flying across the room, ketchup coating the table, chairs, floor, me, and my daughter is about to back-flip off the plastic chair onto the tile floor.  The guy with the nachos who had given us a friendly smile not 60 seconds ago, is suddenly desperate to shrink into his chair, never daring to even glance in my direction.  The screaming is so loud, I think the entire Target thinks someone is trying to murder my child.  I was oddly calm, retrieving the hot dog and wiping up ketchup while wrangling the bucking bronco on my hip...

We left quickly, Ev's screaming and writhing more frantic by the second.  I had to concentrate so I wouldn't laugh, even though it was pretty hysterical, because laughing really did not seem to be helpful to Ev in her state.  Not sure what she was actually conscious of, but it didn't seem respectful to laugh uncontrollably at your child (though I wasn't sure I recognized her).  In the same thought stream, when I had to set her down on the asphalt to unload the cart (I couldn't put her in the cart or she'd launch herself out of it, and I couldn't hold her safely with one arm), I actually wondered to myself if she was exhibiting signs of aspergers.  People (women) in the parking lot did one of two things as they passed by: 1) Completely and utterly ignored us, as if they heard nothing (impossible) or 2) Glanced over knowingly and offered me a small smile of sympathy.  Took about 20 minutes before I could get her into the vehicle safely.  How anyone can scream that intensely for that long and not loose their voice is beyond me.  I'm glad to say, that's the worst one on record.  So far.