The truth is that I have anxiety. It's one of my gifts. I'm good at it. I'd go into more detail but sufficed to say, you'd find me in the DSM-IV. This is genetic. I have passed this gene onto at least one of my children. This particular child needs a little more time and patience than other children. She needs transition, explanation, patience, rest and food. Last night hubby and I decided to treat the children to dinner out. We chose a place to eat. Of course, the children wanted three different restaurants. This is not a democracy, by the way. My particularly little Nancy was hungry and had no transition time. Dinner was a painful experience. She refused to eat. She only sat with us because I threatened to spank her right there in the middle of the restaurant. She touched her siblings, made rude noises, yelled inappropriately, and, by the end of dinner, her mother was completely and anxiously frazzled. The food given to her was untouched and pushed away, she had ripped up no less than 8 napkins into tiny pieces, the scowl was etched into her face and everybody was "bugging" her.
What's better than a mother who could be diagnosed in the DSM-IV with an anxiety disorder? An 11 year old daughter who is having her own episode and pushing her mother over the edge. We slinked out of the restaurant after picking up the 647 pieces of napkin, dragging my little genetic clone behind us.
She did not get to this point alone. There was an older sister who was equally as unhappy about our choice and at least as hungry and rude until she got food into her. After the first three or four bites, she became her usual helpful wonderful self. Regardless, they both got the opportunity of sitting on the couch alone for 35 minutes while their parents calmed down. One continued being anxious and never entered the room to talk to them. The other parent, calm as could be, worked through the experience for 45 minutes with them.
If you will excuse me, I think I will go relieve my anxiety by checking the doors 54 times before going to bed.
What's better than a mother who could be diagnosed in the DSM-IV with an anxiety disorder? An 11 year old daughter who is having her own episode and pushing her mother over the edge. We slinked out of the restaurant after picking up the 647 pieces of napkin, dragging my little genetic clone behind us.
She did not get to this point alone. There was an older sister who was equally as unhappy about our choice and at least as hungry and rude until she got food into her. After the first three or four bites, she became her usual helpful wonderful self. Regardless, they both got the opportunity of sitting on the couch alone for 35 minutes while their parents calmed down. One continued being anxious and never entered the room to talk to them. The other parent, calm as could be, worked through the experience for 45 minutes with them.
If you will excuse me, I think I will go relieve my anxiety by checking the doors 54 times before going to bed.
Really??? You always seem so calm cool and collected!!!
ReplyDeleteOh Nancy, I totally understand as I have passed on not-so fun traits to my children as well and can very much relate to this story. I enjoyed reading it, thanks for sharingophymir
ReplyDeleteSorry about your stress.
ReplyDeleteThat's what you get for doing something nice for your kids. No good deed goes unpunished.
It sounds a lot like the 75/25 rule in our house.
I barely finished catching up on your blog when I found your comment on mine! I LOVE this story. I'm in that dratted DSM-IV, too. Now I know what to look forward to as our little one grows up. :) Thank goodness for spouses!
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