Bravery

Xanthe had a complete breakdown yesterday when she couldn't have a piece of turkey.  She crushed up her cheese and crackers in her hand and cried.  Then of course, she was hungry because she destroyed her after-school snack.  More hysterics ensued, with a one-hour break for acting completely normal and happy at ballet.

This morning, she writhed around on the stairs moaning because she couldn't find an outfit, her clothes were too itchy, she hated everything, there were no pants in her closet, you name it.  The she cried and sobbed because she didn't want to be late for school, but that ship had sailed, kid.  I drove her to the school but she was so hysterical, I couldn't make her go in.  After a chocolate chip cookie run to McDonald's and watching a video of our beach trip in the car that Uncle Ryan made, I pulled up to the school for the second time.  Xanthe started to cry again, chanting, "I don't want to be late I don't want to be late I don't want to be late."  I asked her if something bad happened at school yesterday and she nodded.  Her eyes went scrunchy and her tiny voice said, "Nobody would play with me at recess and I'm afraid that would happen again."  Oh for heaven's sake, do ALL of my children have to be social misfits?  Ari was just complaining of the same thing recently; nobody to play with at recess.  Freestone said, "Why don't you do what I do and take a book to recess?"

Yeah, that's not weird or anything.  (At the beach, a group of rambunctious boys Freestone's age came, shouting and jumping and racing around.  Freestone looked up from his Goosebumps book and said, "Well, there goes our nice, quiet reading time.")  Scott's response to this latest recess crisis was, "So our kids are a bunch of ciphers in the snow?"  Apparently so.

Tears filled my eyes as I drove away from the school for the second time this morning.  Xanthe needed some extra love.  When I could finally speak through the lump in my throat, I said, "Let's go to Coco's."  There are baby kittens there, and what erases recess trauma like a baby kitten?

Xanthe is struggling in school, falling further and further behind everyone else every day.  We're trying to find some answers through testing, etc.  She seems to have a lot of trouble with spatial reasoning, numbers and reading.  In short, it's all hard for her, but she is so brave.  She has mentioned that she doesn't understand anything, but she says it matter-of-factly, as if that's just to be expected.  Homework that's a breeze for most kids is a marathon that starts anew each Monday when she brings her packet home.  By Thursday night, after hours spent by us and tutoring from Coco, she is barely beginning to become familiar with the words.  Information just isn't retained, and once she makes a mistake, she'll make the same mistake over and over and over.  Yet she loves school.

I often repeat the quote I love from A. A. Milne, "River know this: that there is no hurry.  We shall get there someday."  It's my homework-and-practicing mantra with my eager, frustrated, determined first grader.  She is a bright girl with excess strength and determination, and the time we spend together studying is precious.  We shall get there someday.  But is it too much to ask that, in the meantime, she has someone to play with at recess?