Parenthood - Week 516: Buffy's New Bed

“Buffy? Kings, get down here!” 

 

I was upstairs when I heard my wife call me. I wasn’t clear from her tone the mood of the moment, but her voice had a level of urgency. As I came downstairs, I saw Diana standing and pointing at our box of winter wear. In this box full of gloves, hats, and mittens sat Buffy. Her fur was coming out of the sides of the box, and she was resting peacefully. 

 

Buffy had somehow managed to climb into this box, and like a cat in a box meme, she sat there content while looking absurd.  

 

“Silly puppy.” 

 

Buffy has a bed in the front room near the same area as this box, but lately, she has been resting not in her bed but on random jackets, gloves, and other clothing on the floor. Because we live with three children, winter clothing accessories are often not hung up or put away. After school, my kids come in, sometimes needing to go to the bathroom in a rush to transition to being home, which can be a mess at times.  

 

The boys get home from school, and as they transition, Buffy takes advantage of the time before my sons put away their stuff. Sometimes before we can put everything away, she has already settled on Ollie’s jacket. Maybe Buffy likes to lay on Ollie’s jacket because it’s soft or novel, or perhaps she likes cuddling up to the scent of someone in her pack.  

 

A couple of days ago, I was cleaning the house nightly after the kids went to bed. As I moved into our living room, I noticed Buffy slowly following me. When I stopped, she stopped and looked up at me. I sighed and then went to the closet. I took out Ollie’s winter coat and threw it on the ground. Buffy turned around and walked towards the coat. She walked in a small circle around the coat and settled down in the coat. Then she let out a relaxed sigh and closed her eyes.  

 

*****  

 

In the evening, Buffy regularly goes upstairs and wants to sleep in Ollie and Ethan’s room. She gets upset when the door isn’t open after they go to bed and wants to get in. At some point in the night, she wants to sleep back downstairs. When I forget to leave that room’s door open a crack, I will hear her whine or bark in the middle of the night, and sometimes Ollie gets up to open the door for her. We’ve gotten into the habit of leaving that door open so she can go downstairs.  

 

There’s a little space between a chest of drawers and Ethan’s bed. It’s only about a foot and a half wide. I’ve wedged one of Buffy’s bed’s into that space, and she enjoys having this little nook to settle in for part of the night.  

 

I’m not sure why she wants to go downstairs in the middle of the night, but it’s nice knowing she’s keeping an eye on the boys and wants to settle for the night close to them.

Year 13: Week 26 - Taking Her Lead

I needed to do more than hold the door. 

I followed her out of the rehearsal space when one of the professors waved at me and told me that the door might be locked and she might not be able to get back into the room. I stood there holding the door for a couple of minutes. It seemed like this student should have come back in by now, so I checked to see that the door was unlocked, and it was, so I went out to the lobby. There she was, sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall with her head down.  

It was a joyous day. One of my colleagues had organized a trip to Northwestern University with one of our middle school choirs. The plan was to visit one of the choir pedagogy classes so the college students could experience a real choir to practice and develop their craft as choir teachers.  

It was a win-win situation. The students in this choir class got to have a great experience with teaching, and our students got to work with some different teachers, each lunch at the student center and got to run around campus. I was delighted to help chaperone this trip, as Northwestern University is my alma mater, and support my colleague and the students on this adventure.  

The students were in awe entering the music building, the professor was warm and welcoming, and the university students were gracious. Things were going great when that student raised her hand during a pause in the class. She gestured to my colleague that she wanted to leave, and I assumed she just needed to use the bathroom.  

When I found her in the lobby, I sat beside her. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just sat there in silence, not wanting to intrude in her moment of solitude and wanting her to come to feel my presence unobtrusively.  

She told me that this was frustrating. She wanted to participate, but she couldn’t. She needed a break; her mind wasn’t letting her stay in the moment. She told me she was tired of her anxiety and mental health issues preventing her from doing what she wanted to do in life. She felt terrible that her problems made life more difficult for people who cared about her. She wished things could be different and didn’t like feeling alone.   

I sat there for a moment, not knowing what to say. I wanted to comfort her but didn’t want to give her false platitudes. She was expressing too much that was deep and venerable for me not to be honest with her.  

I told her that being your authentic self sometimes means feeling alone, but it’s better than pretending to be something you are not trying to fit in. I explained to her that she is processing at a high level, and some adults don’t know how to talk about their lives, their feelings, and their mental health as well as she does. I talked about how my children gave my life meaning by being people I love enough to care for and worry about. And I told her that her presence in the lives of people who care and worry about her is a blessing.  

She looked at me for the first time in our conversation, “thank you.” 

I nodded in response, and we sat silently for a few minutes. I told her it was okay and that we could hang out in the lobby for as long as she wanted.  

“Let’s go back in.” she sighed quietly and stood up. 

I took her lead and followed her back into the rehearsal room.