Relative Greatness

So, before writing this, I checked back on my other posts here, just to make sure I'd not be repeating myself too badly.

And what did I find? That, um, yeah. This blog should pretty much change its name to "This GREAT Life." As in, Sweetie's always saying she's great, even though I don't believe that to be true as much as she claims. And also that it is my and Hubby's and maybe a few other random people's humble opinion that she is not the healthiest looking child. And, yes, I tell you about all this all the freakin' time.

Yet, here I am. About to do it again.

Take, for instance, Sweetie's 4th grade school picture that we just got a few weeks ago. Yes, she is smiling a way-forced/too big smile, which makes her look just silly. But beyond that, well... let's just say that the picture literally makes Hubby angry. He won't look at it again. He says it makes her look sickly and pale and just not "Sweetie." And... I agree. There's something about it - the way they had her torque her neck, or something - that makes her look old. Like, winkled-neck old, smiling-too-big-wrinkled-face old. And pale. And thin (yes, she's thin - always has been. But here she looks decidedly thinner). And weak. And, yes, sickly. Just not our Sweetie.

But beyond looking sickly? Eh. As usual, she's "great." And, in some ways, I agree. I mean, we're into November already and she's not yet missed 1 day of school. She's had a couple very minor colds, but nothing to keep her down. For all intents and purposes, she has, in fact, been great. Yippee!

But... I don't know. Is it a legitimate complaint to say my daughter is "only" sick-looking, and therefore sick? Therefore, something is still not right? Something still needs to be found and dealt with and fixed? Is she throwing up? No. Fevers? No. Fatigue? Eh - not that I have really noticed. Soreness? Again, not that I'm aware. I should be happy! But, really. She doesn't look right! Fix her!

In terms of how Sweetie is actually feeling, aside from the "great"s, I only get very brief glimpses into how she is.

She complains that she really wants/needs to have Halloween candy as part of her lunch because, before Halloween, turns out she was "always" tired at school. But ever since she'd been getting some Halloween candy, it wakes her up and helps her focus (or, such is her argument.)

She rides her bike 3 or 4 laps around our small cul-de-sac, but then takes a small rest because she says, matter of factly, that her arms are a bit sore.

We go to the cast party for the Oliver! production that she was just in, and she sits behind me, in the corner of the room, not out playing and socializing with the other kids. She says she's bored. I wonder if she's just not feeling up to playing (the party took place at the Boys & Girls Club where she goes after school everyday. She's very familiar with this place, is my point, and has made at least 1 pretty good friend while in the cast. Why not play with her? Why not go play Legos with anyone?! Get out there!)

This girl. She just has me in a constant state of wonder.

It's enough to make me consider stopping her over-the-counter immune-boosting gummies we've been having her take for almost a year now. Like, is there something there, just below the surface, that's not too bad, but yet is kinda screaming to get out? If she stops the gummies and allows her body to experience the sickness, to get it out, wouldn't that be a good thing? Who knows. (And who's to say those store bought gummies are truly doing anything much to cure/surpress any lingering illnesses anyway.)

I know. I know. I should be thanking my lucky stars that I don't have a complainer. Well, yeah, I kinda do. She can and does complain, and whine, about a good many things, actually. But how she's feeling is never one of them, ever.

Last Friday I thought I had an ingenious idea. I made "emoti-magnets." That is, smiley faces, about 15 - 20 of them, that express a whole range of emotions. Happy, sad, scared, sleepy, excited, angry, proud, etc... I thought these would be a fantastic way for Sweetie to show us what she's feeling, if she's not going to tell us. And - yes! She loves them and is more than happy, so far, to single out an emotion or two each day to represent what she's feeling. Yay!

But... we're finding that A) there aren't always the "right" emoti-magnets to represent how we're feeling (we all try to use them each day.) And, B) these are pretty much strictly feelings. Not health related. Although there are Sleepy, Tired, and Sick options. But nothing for, say, specifically a headache. Or an upset stomach. I noted that I would try to find some like these, but Sweetie says no. The "Sick" option is good enough for all those things. Fine, whatever. We'll see if she uses it, anyway. So far it's just been a weekend of Excited and Happy, what with her Oliver! show. Then a bit of Sad when the shows were done.

Another thing I wonder about is how much to heart Sweetie has taken something I said rather off the cuff several years ago. I think, at the time, I wrote about this on my other blog. But not sure I've ever mentioned it here yet...

It must have been school shopping for 1st grade. She and I were at the mall with Grammy, and Sweetie was complaining that she was tired of walking. She was very whiney. She didn't want to walk anymore. She said her feet hurt. Wah, wah, wah.

Finally, I had had enough of it. I bent down to her level and I let her know quite simply that she needed to stop with this. I told her that if anyone had a right to complain about all the walking, it was me. My back hurt and I didn't want to do it either - but I'm not complaining. You, I told her, have no right to complain at all!

And then - she didn't complain again.

Simple enough. But I wonder if my words stuck, even after all this time. I know that sounds pretty ridiculous, on one hand. But on another, I do know for a fact that way back in Kindergarten Sweetie made up a huge lie of a story about something that happened one particular day at school. And when I found out that it was all a lie, I got mad. Really mad. She was angrily sent to her room and told to think about what she'd done. To this day, I know my Sweetie hates lies. She won't tell them and doesn't like to hear that others have. And if I were to ask her if she remembers that day back in kindergarten when she got in so much trouble for lying, I have no doubt in my mind that she would not only instantly remember, but she would also get upset about it and mad at me for making her recall such a bad memory.

My point - Sweetie remembers these types of things. Perhaps my stern words saying "you don't have the right to complain about how you feel - I do, and I don't" have stuck with her all this time. She knows I'm in pain everyday. So, to her, she's "still" got no right to say what's going on with her.

I don't know. That seems like a stretch, and rather complex for her young age. But, then again, knowing my Sweetie and how much concern she seems to have for me (if I fall down, she's always very concerned to find out if I'm okay), it really wouldn't surprise me at all to find out that she's holding back with her own stuff because she doesn't want me to suffer for myself AND find out that she's not well too. Just like I told her to do - keep it in. Don't say one more word.

I can't tell you how many times Hubby and I both have told her over the last year or so that she needs to tell us how she's feeling other than great. We've tried to arrange for her to give us a code if she's not well - that got way too complicated. We've tried to tell her that it's okay to say she's great if someone asks her how she is, but if we ask her how she's feeling, she's got to say something different, even if similar (which is what she usually went for.) We've tried to ban the word "great" from her vocabulary entirely - she just looks for synomyms. We've told her that it is in no way a sign of weakness to admit to feeling anything other than great. We've told her it's actually a good thing, sometimes, if she's not feeling well because that means her body is fighting the Lyme. We've tried to initiate a journal between she and I where she can write to me how she's feeling - she just writes me silly, non-related notes or draws me pictures, if anything at all. We've tried so many things. And still, she remains "great."

Which, you know. Is kind of great. And I'm sure, to her, she is just that. She won't lie.

I just can't shake this sneaking suspicion that her "great" is a rather "meh" feeling in actuality. That Lyme has been with her so long that she only accepts how she regularly feels now as "great," when, in actuality, she could feel so, so much more greater than that.

If only we knew for sure what her true starting point was/is. We could work so much more effectively to get her back to true greatness.