Bubbly was a mess. A holy terror of a hot mess.
She screamed. She raged. And sadly, she spent most of the weekend in her room. This leads to destruction. She’s so frustrated with herself, and with her life in general, that she ruins anything that matters to her. It’s a pattern of grief. I get it. But, that doesn’t make me any less sick of it.
The saddest part to me is how it affects the kids down the chain from her. I’ve seen the Diva mimic her less than ideal behavior. We talked through that, and developmentally, the Diva is old enough to get it. Dolly isn’t.
So, consequently, Dolly has taken up some of Bubbly’s uglier habits. Laying in the middle of the room flailing and screaming? Check. Slapping me across the face? Check. Throwing things at me? Check, Check, Double Check.
It makes me really dislike Bubbly.
While I know it’s not her fault per say, it sure does feel like it. I feel like shouting at her “We managed to AVOID the bull crap orphanage behavior with Dolly?!? Now she’s here and YOU are teaching it to her!!!”
Alas, I point out what Dolly is doing, and who taught it to her and why it’s SO bad that she learns this. Bubbly nods sheepishly, but can’t change it. She doesn’t know how. I know that. I just pray to God we find a way to get through this, because we feel like we’re drowning in the trauma right now, even though we know how to swim through it, it still feels like drowning.
When you feel like you’re getting sucked under, all you can do is panic. It’s natural, I suppose. I panic so hard at the thought of losing Bubbly, that I forget what a capable swimmer I am. I forget that I can do this. I should know by now…
I’ve got this.
Who will just keep swimming, just keep swimming…swimming…swimming….