Off to Little Mamas eye doctor this morning. Its out of town so the drive will be interesting. I have been getting up earlier and earlier every morning trying to catch Little Mama in the act of getting ready to bathe, and then the event itself to gauge exactly where she is in that process. So, I finally made it this morning...at 6:00 a.m. FYI.. you CAN be productive with 4 1/2 hours of sleep a night. odj. So to get ready to take her bath, LM is pulling underwear out of drawers at a most alarming rate. When I walked in she had 4 pairs of panties, 3 socks and 4 bras in hand, one hand towel, a shower cap, and no soap. No wonder I find her underwear poked hither and yon. What she doesnt put on, she puts away...hither and yon. sigh. So, I back her up, give her one set of underwear, take away the hand towel, give her a bath towel and a washcloth, and Im saying aloud......and you need a bar of soap. As I said that, I was handing her the towels and she picks up the washcloth as asks...is this the bar of soap? double sigh. No, honey, thats what you wash with. Ill find the soap. It was in a shoe. Of course. So off she goes to bathe while I lay out her clothes - just like I did my babies when they were learning to get dressed on their own. Last night she comes carrying a new role of toilet paper and tells me THEY took the thing that makes this work. Yes, the little roller was missing from the TP dispense. SO... scavenger hunt through her room, find it in the drawer of the little table beside her bed - Under a shower cap and beside a stray bra. I look at this stuff daily and realize this is an exact replica of whats going on inside her brain. chaos. My poor little girl. And she blames all this chaos on the fact that she came here only a couple of days ago, and that when she goes home, everything will be in place like it was before. I am hearing her. I am praying that when we make the move, she accepts the new living quarters, because they arent going to be home. Home is where she was born; where she grew up; where Mom and Dad were her anchors to reality and where I had yet to be a thought in her head. She calls me her daughter most times, but I have come to realize that words means no more to her than the washcloth did to the soap. I am just the face, the voice, the hands, that make her world safe. For the longest time I was enough, and sadly, I am the one who is faltering now. Not everyone comes to know what the real extent of the endurance might be, but I know mine. Eight years and 5 months. Thats when I broke. I just need to get LM into a safe and happy place, and then I will be fine. The true extent of Christian charity isnt about mouthing scriptures or giving money away. It is about service to others; in the smallest of ways, without a pat on the back or a write-up in the paper. Without criticizing others who dont walk your same path. Jesus gave us the example. Its about washing the feet of a beggar and being grateful for the chance to give him ease.
Posted on: Tue, 08 Jul 2014 13:39:30 +0000
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