The stress really is getting to all of us. Poor Lucy tries so hard to be helpful and excited about the move. She is always telling me that she can’t wait for the big pool and to be able to ride her bike in the winter and how she will have friends who she can walk to their house and close playgrounds.
Last night the act of putting on a brave front finally got the best of her. She had been so helpful and cheerful all day long, then as soon as bedtime came around, she lost it.
I’m always surprised when she does something that I think she’s too young to do, only to realize that she isn’t a baby. She’s SEVEN and perfectly capable of recognizing and identifying her own feelings and insecurities.
At first I thought she was just hungry. Then I thought she was just tired. Then she came downstairs crying about how she was glad that we were moving because her friends lived too far away anyway and she doesn’t even really like them all that much to begin with.
She laid on my lap and cried for the next 30 minutes and told me all about how scared she was and sad that she was leaving Eleanor and she was so scared that the girls at church wouldn’t like her and that she wouldn’t have anything in common with other little girls. She was scared that the only people who would want to be her friend were the people who everyone else hated. She laid her head on my legs and cried and cried. My pants were drenched. She cried that she felt like Emma didn’t like her either.
It was like looking in a mirror. I know that Lucy and I butt heads a lot, and Matt always says it’s because we are so much alike, but I never really saw it until last night.
In fact, I had had the EXACT same conversation with Matt on the phone (but without the tears) earlier that night while he was on his way home from his meeting in Bangor (I was in the tub and the kids were supposed to be in bed, so I know Lucy didn’t overhear me). He said that I was different from other women (something he always noticed when we are in public and he can observe the interactions between other women) and as such, it IS harder for me to make friends. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t. I just need to have faith that I will meet someone. My friend Tara says she has been praying for me, too. Sheri, I don’t suppose you will PCS to Holloman?
Lucy is just as insecure and lonely as I am, except she’s 7 and can’t fill the void with a husband and/or big hobbies like scrapping. Poor kid, no wonder she’s having a hard time. You can only jump rope and dance around the kitchen for so long.
After her tears had dried up she asked me to read more of the book I had been reading to her. Apparently a couple of pages of Harry Potter snuggled up with Mom can heal even the most broken of hearts.