Little Girl Stories

Last night I did something I never thought I would do: I told my ladybugs about what really happened in Kindergarten and First grade.

I guess it all started back about a year ago, when Jim told a "little boy story" after shutting off the lights.  His stories were of backyard adventures, friends doing silly things, and tales of his move from a country life to a city life.  The ladybugs looked forward to these true stories from their father's youth, so much so that on my nights (Jim and I switch back and forth each night) they begged their Daddy to stay and tell another "little boy story".

Eventually I was asked to share a "little girl story" around Christmas.  I shared my favorite Christmas memories, but then grew silent with more ideas.  It was around that time that I began to craft THE SILVER FROG, and the ladybugs enjoyed the various renderings of the story each night I put them to bed.  However, that too became old.  Luckily I remembered stories from summer vacations: places we went,  "mushy gooshy" sand my sister, Kelly, and I made in the backyard, and how we tried to dig to China.  But I avoided all tales of school.

I suppose that I didn't want to tell the girls I hated going, or that I cried every day I went to Kindergarten, or that I learned how to throw up to avoid going to 1st grade.  I didn't want them to develop their own fears and worries based on my past.  But what I neglected to realize was that Eva and Zoe (especially Zoe) had their own fears and worries - completely on their own.

So last night, after Zoe claimed she didn't want to go to school today, I shared my fears from school.  I told the girls that I too did not want to go to school.  That every day I would worry about what we would be doing, if people would play with me and that I would miss my Mommy.  Every day I spent a ton of time worrying and not enjoying my time at school.  And yes, there are good memories of playing in the Kindergarten house, singing in music, and learning to read.  But those are heavily overshadowed by the memories of anxieties and fears.  I told the ladybugs that when I look back at that time, I realize I should have stopped worrying so much and spent more time making memories of joyful times.  Allow myself to have fun - rather then worrying the fun would eventually end.

And something wonderful happened: I felt a release.  It was okay to share the dark and murky parts of my past - because that is who I was (and sometimes who I still am).  I no longer have to avoid talking about a particular "story" because I am afraid I'll give the girls anxieties.  Hell, they already have them.  And who knows, maybe it is because they thought I loved school and never worried about anything.