One day at a time

Day 47: Emotionally overwhelmed

Today packed a bit of a wake-up call.

Poor Hannah had a rough start.

She slept well last night, woke up with a smile on her face, ate a good breakfast and was even ready in time to get a few TV minutes logged before school started at 9 a.m.

When the alarm sounded and she came to join me at the counter, things took an odd and inexplicable turn. Armed with tablet and headphones, this little girl was all set to listen to a story her teacher had posted on the Bloomz app.

Her tablet battery was low, so I told her to go get her charger and plug it in at the counter so she could keep working next to me.

And that’s when her mood switched off like a lightbulb. All the light drained from her face, her eyes sunk and she started pouting and refusing to look at anyone. I asked why she was so upset – all I’d asked her to do was bring her charger to the counter so we could continue with our plan.

No response. But now the tears started.

Brooke came into the room and thought she might be able to offer some relief – usually big sister is pretty good at providing just the right touch of distraction and bringing a smile to Hannah’s face.

Not today.

She ran to the couch in the living room and buried her face. Brooke tried to talk her off the ledge, but she was hearing none of it.

I tried to coax her back to our workspace, but that wasn’t happening, either.

Finally, her big sister got her to come talk to Mom (read: pulled her across the living room to stand in front of me whining and crying).

Something was definitely not right – this wasn’t typical Hannah. I asked, gently, what was going on. She said she didn’t know.

That doesn’t help.

I offered a hug and she adamantly refused.

Pulling her in close, I prodded a little further. Why had asking her to get a charge cord sent her into a tailspin? She finally offered a little information: “It wasn’t that.”

Okay. So what happened then? Silence.

After another five minutes of standing in agonizing silence, Hannah finally asked if she could whisper in my ear.

“My hair got stuck in my headphones and it hurt to take them off.”

Oh, is that all? Of course I didn’t say that to the poor monkey. I just held her closer and assured her she was okay, reminding her she could have told us that when it happened, so we could have helped and not escalated the situation.

She nodded, but didn’t seem convinced. Brooke knew I had a lot of work to do, so she asked Hannah if the hug could be transferred over. That was a no-go. The poor girl started whimpering as soon as Brooke reached out to touch her hand.

Instead, this nearly six-year-old climbed up onto Mom’s lap and laid her head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and we sat there together for a few minutes.

It was a time-out Hannah desperately needed. Soon she was asking to get down so she could get her tablet and watch that video.

Sometimes I think it’s too easy to forget she’s struggling, too. The days seem fun-filled and mostly relaxed for her – she gets to spend lots of time outside, playing with her toys, colouring and crafting, and watching videos.

But the emotions can be a little much for her when the weight of not seeing her classmates, teacher and daycare providers settles in.

These 47 days have been a long haul for our kindergartner, and today she reminded me how important it is to slow down and listen, to see what’s happening in her mind, in her heart. To remember she’s going through this, too.

Thank goodness it’s the weekend; I think the little one needs real Mom time. It’s not the same on these workdays, when my attention is divided and focus is often on a computer screen or telephone interviews with people she can’t see.

Time to regroup. I see a lot of snuggles and Hannah time in the next two days.

Krista Conrad, OkotoksToday.ca

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