It's no secret that I'm in therapy. But I desperately hope that my children won't need it. Some days? I think I'll be cause of their therapy.
|Violet August 2004|
Like on Saturday. Violet has been having a really hard time coping with Sarah having a birthday and getting so much attention. We've been dealing pretty well, I think. Lots of talking, lots of 'how do you feel?' and 'how do you think Sarah would feel if ....' and 'how would you feel if Sarah or John did . . . ' But on Saturday night I got fed up.
Sarah was looking at something, totally unrelated to her birthday, but Violet could not let her be. She started in on, "Let me show you how to do something really cool. Something you've never ever seen before." I redirected. She maneuvered herself right back. My husband gave Sarah attention for something, while I was paying attention to Violet mind you, and Violet ran away from me to get in between Sarah and Dad. gaaah. At this point I pulled Violet away from everyone, got down eye to eye with her.
"What is going on?"
"Do you have to steal the attention from Sarah?"
*eyes rolling, huffing, toe tapping* and she's eyeing my husband and Sarah, just waiting to jump back into the center. It's like everything has to revolve around her. Has to.
"Violet. Everything does not revolve around you."
*huff* *eye roll*
"Violet. It doesn't. Do you know how I know?"
*shakes head* *rolls eyes* (those eyes are so.going.to.roll.someday.)
I leaned in real close and whispered.
"I know because it revolves around ME. Go play."
*sigh* What do you think therapy will run in ten years? $200 an hour?