Anyway, quite a bit has happened over the past few weeks. Just before she finished for Easter, it was Darcie's parents evening (well strictly speaking it was parents afternoon as our appointment was about 3.40pm!) After her less-than-fantastic report, I was feeling quite tense but each set of parents was only allocated 10 minutes with the teacher so I reassured myself that it wouldn't be that horrendous. Darcie's teacher, Mrs Smith, is one of the better ones we've come across, despite being depressingly skinny and having a permanently sad look about her (although that may be because my daughter is in her class!) I've been to quite a few parents evenings already, but this one was by far the worst. Mrs Smith looked at Simon & I, sighed especially sadly and said "I just don't know what to say about Darcie....." I could tell that this was a bad, bad sign and resisted the urge to run far, far away.
So, we officially have a difficult child. Darcie won't go out willingly to play at break/lunch times, preferring instead to tidy the classroom (although she normally refuses point-blank to tidy up at home) and do jobs for Mrs Smith - helpful to a point I guess but the point is that most kids can't wait to escape the classroom and go outside to play. Apparently there's no sign of bullying or anyone being especially nasty to her, which could be a reason why she'd rather be inside with the teacher. Granted Darcie isn't a very active or physical child to say the least, and I reckon running around is just too much effort, but surely she could just sit on a bench or something? We came to the conclusion that she sees herself as one of the staff rather than a pupil, which fits in with her obsession about being a grown-up and inability to understand why she's younger than us! If Darcie is in the classroom helping Mrs Smith rather than playing outside with her peers, then in her mind that makes her a member of staff, on the same level as her teacher.
Her work has plateaued, mainly meaning that she's reached a certain level and then given up. Despite making minimal effort, Darcie remains in the middle groups which says something I think....academically she'd do well if she wasn't so bloody lazy. I'll freely admit that I didn't work to my full potential at school, and so often wish I'd tried harder - the gift of hindsight which comes with being an adult is a marvellous thing! Mrs Smith was exasperated by Darcie's rudeness, apparently she often turns her back on her teachers when something doesn't suit - very rude I know, but in some little way I quite admire her because I'd never have dared! Of course I looked suitably shocked and didn't say "wow, she's brave! I'd have loved to turn my back to plenty of teachers when I was at school!"......
One of the most shocking things is Darcie's inability to sit properly on the mat with the other children. This is clearly crucial to her success at school and development as a person. I know Mrs Smith was simply highlighting this as an example of Darcie's general awkwardness and reluctance to follow instructions, but if that's the worst crime she ever commits in her life then I'll be happy! Yes, she should do as she's told, but she's sitting slightly outside the designated area, not running amok through the school with a loaded gun - I would have thought it was the latter from the deadly serious look on Mrs Smiths face.
The good (in a weird way) bit is that we've finally found someone who agrees there is something wrong with Darcie. Previously, whenever we attempted to discuss her behaviour with her teachers, they brushed it aside making us feel like we were over-exaggerating. Mrs Smith, however, admitted she was relieved that we think there's something not quite right, as she also thinks so. She described Darcie as depressive, in addition to her general awkwardness and odd behaviour. I think I mentioned that we saw a woman from CAMHS (Child and Adult Mental Health Services) who were were due to meet with again coincidentally the day after Parents Evening. When we saw the lady, Mary, the first time, she asked permission to send a form to school for Darcie's class teacher to complete - Mrs Smith explained that she had received the form and duly filled it in. Our 10 minutes were up, and we left the classroom feeling shocked after such a negative meeting, collected our children from the hall where they had waited patiently (ignoring the fact that Harv had been climbing on the apparatus which was forbidden) and walked home in the rain.
We saw Mary the woman from CAMHS) as planned the next day, after school at our place. She informed us that she's 60, and really very nice, with a vaguely amused yet suspicious look about her which means she must have her own kids. As soon as Mary entered the room, Darcie recoiled as if a mad gunman had run in, flashing her an evil look which is normally reserved just for me. We were actually quite pleased as Darcie was demonstrating just how peculiar she can be, but Mary ploughed on, not fazed at all (another indication that she's a mother) Harvey retired to our bedroom to watch telly (and to do some destroying of various objects, taking full advantage of the fact that he was unsupervised) When we met with Mary the first time Darcie was at school, but she'd been very keen to meet her (glutton for punishment).
Mary spoke to Darcie (in fact all of us) veeerrrrryyyy slowly and calmly as if we were ever so slightly mentally defective (which I am) and her soothing voice made me want to doze off. Guessing falling asleep while seeing a counsellor about my daughter's serious problems would undoubtedly place me firmly in the Bad Mother category, I managed to stay concious.
Mary referred to the form she'd sent to Mrs Smith, and read us some of her comments. With the parents evening fresh in our minds, we already knew what Mrs Smith's main concerns were, and what she'd written on the form generally reinforced what she'd said to us. However, Mrs Smith had added that she has never seen Darcie smile. What? How can a child never smile? I was shocked, and clearly Simon was too - suddenly I was wide awake and wondering what on earth is wrong with our child. She loves school, and as I've said before, frequently informs us that she'd much rather be there than at home. So why isn't she happy there? Apparently she didn't even smile or seem happy when her class voted her costume the best on Superhero day, and she won! I can genuinely say that that was one of the saddest moments in my life as a mum, my daughter is so sad that she doesn't smile. I could have cried, but luckily we moved quickly on......that comment has stuck with me though, and probably always will. Simon and I have often said that Darcie doesn't know how to react in certain situations - ever since she was tiny shes been odd about getting presents, etc. there's usually no excitement there. I remember on Darcie's 3rd birthday my parents bought her a doll's pram which she'd been desperate for - we sat her on the sofa and got her to cover her eyes while we wheeled it in, I was so excited thinking she'd be over the moon. She opened her eyes, looked at the dolls pram and said something like "Oh, right." which has always been her reaction to most gifts. I don't reckon she knew how to act when she won the competition at school, she may have been embarrassed by all the fuss as kids are sometimes. The not smiling thing is weird though, I've been watching her like a hawk ever since and she does smile, not nearly as often as she should though.
The conclusion Mary came to is that Darcie isn't going to open up to her or anyone else about why she screams and behaves in the way she does. There's no point in continuing counselling, which I agree with - we've been there, done that, and got nowhere. Darcie has a flair for art and so Mary has referred her for art therapy, not sure exactly what it will consist of, but it's proved very successful for certain children with problems. It will take a few weeks for the art therapy to start, but we're hoping that it helps her and does some good - feeling tentatively optimistic......
Just after Easter we went to stay with my parents; Simon, Harvey and I returned home after our usual 4 nights, leaving Darcie there for a couple of days. It was so good to have a break from home, and Darcie was generally fine there which was refreshing. We actually had a good time as a family, which is a rare thing these days. My mum brought Darcie home on the Saturday before she went back to school, and despite being pleased to see us (she phones us twice a day when she's with my parents and is a joy to talk to, my mum insists she misses me) the screaming resumed when my mum attempted to leave. Darcie lost the plot, clinging onto my mum and begging her not to go, luckily my mum managed to free herself from her granddaughter's vice-like grip and catch her train home with seconds to spare. Then came Darcie's death threats, the claims that we hate her and want her to die, that we're plotting to kill her, she hates living with us......it went on and on, for the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday. Of all the things she says, I find it especially hurtful when Darcie says she hates living at home, with us. Kids should be happy at home, but sometimes it seems like she'd rather be anywhere else but here.
So week one of the new term is over and done with, the dreaded summer holidays are edging ever nearer. Darcie is supposed to do 10 minutes of reading every night, plus practice her spellings for a test every Friday, plus do her homework every week. We struggled endlessly last term (and the one before) with this, but I've realised that I want her to succeed and she WILL make progress this term, even if I die in the process. I bought a reward chart and am paying her to do her school work, not the ideal solution but she loves money and I can't think of a better plan. It went okay-ish this week, Darcie got paid yesterday (we even have special envelopes to put her money in) and has realised that she can earn even more next week if she tries harder. Just hope this works, even though we may well end up broke!
Harvey remains the same, as ever my high maintenance but loving little boy. He drives me completely mad at times, but tells me he loves me every day, at least I have one child who does.
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