Last night Lei and I happened upon Elahe Bos’ blog, Plant Love Grow. We were loving the artwork and the creative approaches to social emotional development when we stumbled on The tiger in my chest, a printable story about anger that includes calming exercises to avoid losing control. As we read it, I reflected that we can’t just keep the tiger caged up all the time. So I asked Lei about her anger, and what she wants to do about it.
Lei is out of school even though school isn’t out yet.
On Monday I took her to a very fancy doctor who took an extensive history of Lei’s hives, repeated colds and stomach problems, examined her, and then told me to toughen up and force her to go to school even when she says she feels sick.
As we got into the car, I decided that instead of ruminating on the sting of yet another parenting lecture from a teacher, doctor, nurse or other uninvested stranger, I would just talk to Lei, trying to share my feelings with as much love as possible.
“Lei, when yet a doctor or teacher tells me I should just be tougher with you, that you’re just manipulating me to avoid going to school, it feels pretty humiliating. And I wonder why you feel like you need to do that. Do you know why you work so hard to avoid going to school?”
When I picked the color for Lei’s first hearing aids, it was a major philosophical decision: hide or flaunt?
Did I want her to blend in or stand out? Did I hope for her to be mistaken for normal? Did I dream for her deafness to go unnoticed or celebrated?
What do you think I chose? Her first hearing aids were bright pink.
Why did I think about it so deeply? My mom.