Fluffy is a highly sensitive girl like her mother. She conscientious to a fault and her fears go down to her core. A tiny yappy dog up the street bared it’s teeth at her this summer. she hasn’t been able to walk past that house since. She doesn’t like to talk about her feelings. Verbalizing emotions often causes and eruption that leads to crying and results in a long-lasting exhaustion.
Just before winter break, the school bus noticed engine trouble and returned to the school. The kids had to wait 30 minutes for the transportation department to get a new bus up to them. When she arrived home, she told me curtly that “it was not fun.”
I noticed last week that she was bringing a teddy bear in her backpack. When I inquired she told me casually “it’s in case the bus breaks down.” Whoa. I quickly assured her that if she was uncomfortable riding the bus that she just needed to tell me and I would drive her to school. She shrugged it off. Her brown Build-a Bear was enough security. I doubted it but let her continue. I know she needs to be the one to speak her needs.
She spoke of them Tuesday night. After we were all in bed, she came to me and stated “Mom, I’m not comfortable riding the bus anymore.” It was my reflex to talk to her about it right that second. Thankfully my motherly intuition overrides.
I gave her a second to speak more and she did not. I asked her if she wanted to talk about it in the morning and she heartily replied “yes.” I am sure that talking about it at bedtime would have caused insomnia and nightmares.
The next morning was an awards assembly. The school focuses on a different character trait each month. Fluffy was recognized at school for January’s theme of respect. Her teacher says she is a very thoughtful girl who is kind to her friends. I am very proud of her and she is proud of herself. We had to rush to get ready. She was bubbling with excitement. Also, she didn’t notice that she would be going in front of the school with a rat nest of hair. We’re still working on personal hygiene. Curly hair is a wicked curse.
She beamed with pride up on the stage. She told all of her neighborhood friends about her award. Mike made a big deal about it when he got home.
I am going to enlist the school counselor’s advice for overcoming this fear. I’m not in a hurry. I don’t want her feeling anxious every morning and afternoon. Even though I don’t like getting my ass out of bed and in the minivan at that hour, if driving her is the best option for now, I’ll do it. But as always, your suggestions are welcome.
