Tues 25 Sep
Last time I had a spare 5 minutes to blog (oh don’t… it really is mental just now; I dream about being able to pee on my own without a toddler or child clinging to me) I wrote about Midi Minx getting her grommets. Originally I’d intended to keep her off school for a day or maybe 2, but she wanted to go back the next day, the surgeon said it was fine, and she’s smack-bang in the middle of learning a new phonic a day. So I let her go. Biiiiiig mistake…
I’d sent her in to school with reinforced instructions that if she felt too tired or had any pain, she was to tell her teacher to phone me. She’d breezily brushed aside my warnings and skipped in to school. I picked up a totally different child at 2.35pm. As soon as she saw me, she burst into tears and limped over, into my arms.
Now, Midi is not a hysterical or overly-sensitive little soul. She’s roughty-toughty, grab-the-world-by-the-scruff-of-the-neck-and-laugh-at-it kind of person. I’ve not seen her cry for a reason other than physical pain for many months. I asked what was wrong, and it all came tumbling out:
“I felt so LONELY!” she sobbed. “My buddy ignored me again. No one wanted to play with me!”
What about your best friend, X? “She wasn’t there!”
What about your friend, Y? “He was asleep on his desk!” she wailed.
How about Z and A? You like to play with them. “They just stuck their tongues out at me and wouldn’t let me play too!”
B & C? “They only wanted to play together and didn’t want to play with a girl!”
You were honestly lonely? Absolutely no-one wanted to play with you? “No. And everyone was shouting and it was too loud!”
If I’d thought more, I could have anticipated that the terrible weather indicated an indoor playtime, which would be noisy as hell. Yay, her ears are obviously working, but oh my God, the heartache when your gregarious, funny little girl cries over being left out and feeling lonely.
I figured it was as much to do with being tired and the after-effects of the anaesthetic as much as anything else. Oh, and a big dose of the fact that her Buddy is bloody useless and has been all month – Midi worships her, but the older girl will only say hello if an adult is nearby, won’t play with Midi, and consistently isn’t there when Midi actually needs her. I’ve told Midi that she’s a rubbish buddy and to play with other P1 kids. But Midi loves her.
I think it also doesn’t help that her teacher “forgot” why Midi was off yesterday, claiming that she was about to report her absence before she remembered. So me telling her about the op a month before verbally, and again in writing 10 days before, was useless. And requesting in advance a bit of the work she’d miss, so we could work on it at home the weekend before the op, was totally pointless and a waste of my time. As a result Midi had to catch up on 2 days’ work when she felt tired and emotional. Great. Just what I was trying to avoid. Next time I’ll save myself the hour of writing multiple letters to teachers and administrator, save on paper and ink, and just not give a stuff, shall I?
Luckily I’d taken the car to pick the girls up from school in case Midi was tired. She cried quietly in the back the whole way home. I had a private few tears myself. When my attempts to jolly her out of her heart-ache failed, I did what I had to do: put her on my back in the sling and made us all some serious comfort food. It did make everything a little brighter in that 4 year old world of hers.
Edited: I removed the initials D, S, M, another M, and another 2 single initial letters and replaced them with A, B, C, X, Y and Z. I hope that makes it clearer…