Connection

Lily and I have taken a wonderful class series learning how to work clay at a local art studio. Every Tuesday night in 6 week chunks, we would drop the little kids off with Chad and head to get dinner somewhere and there we would chat, write, draw, and get to know each other. Then at 5 we might wander over to the coffee shop, then on to art class.

Art class ended and we can't attend the winter session because of the weather in Iowa in January and February and the fact that we live 1.5 hours away from the city where the class is. If it was a day class, maybe, but travelling Iowa roads in the dark and ice is just something I would rather avoid. Plus, winter chores are a problem and we just need to be closer to home more often.

She was sad, but said stoically, "Mama, I just like best that we have alone time together, like we used to before the other kids were born."

She had almost 4 years of being an onliest child and I forget that sometimes. Knowing that she needs that extra connection, that special time where she is not responsible for being an example, a big sister, or a playmate is important. Being the oldest is hard. Being the oldest in a family with special needs is more so, I think.

So now, instead of just watching television with her before bed, I picked up a couple art projects that are too complex for the little kids and only she and I can do together. We started earlier this week and so far so good.

I watch for lectures and events we can attend. Tonight we are attending a lecture on American Gothic by art historian Wanda Corn. It may be way over Lily's head, but that's actually a good thing. She will be challenged, maybe even a little bored, but maybe not. She will have to learn to mingle and socialise with people who are a "big deal" and are of different social classes than we are eventually and this is a safe place to do that and for her to see me do that too.

These are more than just decorations and outings, these are relationship building. Every moment I get to know her better. I may be her mother and it is easy to think that I know her best, and maybe I do, but much of her is still ever changing and a mystery to me and possibly to her as well. My job is to be here for her and help her get to know herself. It is a gift if she shares even a tiny bit of that with me.