We have, as I expect most parents of fae children do, a lot of meetings with health care professionals and therapists. We have started to notice a pattern in the things they say upon first observing our daughter. At first this was irritating, as none of these comments were at all helpful nor insightful, so now I have turned them into a bingo game; it is the only way that I have remained calm. The words in brackets by each statement are the automatic responses that I have had to wrestle down so as not to offend people or have myself put under psychiatric observation.
· Isn’t she active? (Really? You think I hadn’t noticed that? As she flings herself off every available piece of furniture and runs circles in the kitchen)
· Is she always like this? (Actually no, because we knew there was an assessment today, we took her to soft play, then the park and then made her walk the ½ mile home. This is her worn out, she is usually MUCH worse)
· I bet she sleeps well! (Look at me, I’m wearing sweatpants, t-shirt and crocs. I don’t know where my jewelry is, and all my makeup expired when she turned 1. I haven’t shaved my legs or sorted my monobrow in over a month and I only showered this morning because I thought cold water might work better than matchsticks at keeping my eyes open. Why in the name of all that’s holy do you think that she sleeps?!)
· You must be exhausted! (Well now that you mention it… did you know you can buy bulk bags of pure caffeine powder? PSA Don’t buy bulk bags of pure caffeine powder: learn from our mistakes)
· She’s adorable (Yes, she is. Sometimes it has been the only factor between her and the glue factory)
· Have you tried sleeping when she does? (Oh wow how did I NEVER think of that? Wait, I did, but she never sleeps. NEVER)
· You need to make time for yourself – you can’t pour from an empty jug. (Are you kidding with this one? I mean seriously. I would love you to show me how I have a child that never sleeps, that nurseries won’t or can’t look after {there’s another story there} and no one else I can trust her with. Also, I hate this analogy. I’m not an inanimate object. I do have an endless supply to fill this jug, its just filled with stress and bitterness that overflowed from the bucket see stress bucket)
· She’s very tall (Again this had escaped my attention whilst buying clothing for 8-year-olds from my 4 year old . Nor was I expecting it; it came as a complete shock as I’m 5ft2. The Fey father is 6ft 4 though…)
· She’s very happy, isn’t she? (What’s she got to be miserable about?! As far as she is concerned the whole world revolves around her.)
· Very confident, isn’t she? (I’m not sure if this is because she doesn’t understand the very risk of death that she puts herself in by launching off the 8ft-plus platforms, or the complete blind trust she has that one of her idiot parents will always catch her. So far we have, so that blind trust has never let her down. It has thrown our backs out though).
I assure you that making it into a game is far better for your blood pressure than biting your tongue or retorting.
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Raising the Modern Fae 