“What happened at Christmas?” Ms. Conway gasped as if waiting for some piece to this unsolvable puzzle that was my second born child.
“We celebrated it without her father for the first time. It’s been hard on all of the kids, but Abby is my only one that reacts disruptively with grief. She isn’t processing this well.”
Ms. Conway let out a short, irritated sigh, as if my daughter’s pain irritated her. “Well, it’s the beginning of February now, Liz. I know that Abby is going through something tough, but she is causing major problems for all of her teachers. If she doesn’t change her behavior soon, we’re going to have to take disciplinary action.”
I shook my head, trying to make her words disappear. “Ms. Conway, I know that she can be a handful, but she’s been through so much. She’s not a bad kid; she’s just a little girl that misses her daddy. We’re working through her pain, but it takes time.”
“I know you think I’m the bad guy here, but I’m just trying to help her. She has to learn that even through rough times, she still has to follow the rules at school and in society.”
“She will learn that,” I promised. “I’m working with her at home and she’s opening up more. I am hoping she’s processing Grady’s death more maturely now. She just turned seven a few weeks ago. That might be part of the problem and part of the solution.”
“What do you mean?”
I clasped my hands together in my lap to keep from fidgeting. “Abby’s birthday is in January, so between the holiday season and her birthday, she had to face a lot of important, special family events that her dad couldn’t be at. That was very hard on her. On all of us. But she is seven now. She’ll grow up some in the next few months, she’ll mature. This has been a tough year for her, but I know she’s getting better. Just give her a little bit more time.”
“Liz, we’re nearly to the end of the school year.”
“We’re also nearly to the one year anniversary of Grady’s death. That might have something to do with her behavior too.”
“When is that?”
“Middle of March.”
She let out another long sigh. “Alright, I understand. I know this is hard for your family. I get it. I do.”
“Thank you.”
Her cold eyes lifted to meet mine. “But she cannot keep disrupting class and lunch. Yesterday she had all of the kids in the lunchroom chanting, “Yum!” at the top of their lungs.”
My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “Yum?”
Ms. Conway started pounding her fists lightly on her desk in time to illustrate, “Yum! Yum! Yum!”
“I can see why that would cause so many problems.”
“Ms. Carlson, they were extremely loud. The teachers couldn’t get them to settle down.”
“Give her just a little more time to struggle through this. I promise I will have a talk with her and she will get it together for the rest of the school year.”
“We just have a few more months,” she offered sympathetically.
“We’ll make it, Ms. Conway. I will get her through this year and then by next fall you will see a different kid. A healthier kid.”
“Alright, Liz. Alright.”
The bell rang for school to be dismissed and we both stood up. I said goodbye and walked out to meet my kids.
“Abby, we are going to talk when we get home,” I told her.
I wasn’t as irrational as I had been at the beginning of the year, but I knew my daughter needed discipline. I could only blame myself for so much and Grady’s death was a reality we had to learn to live with.
She couldn’t keep getting into trouble like this and Ms. Conway was right about her school work. Although she was only in first grade, she had all but given up trying to do well on anything.
“Am I in trouble?” she squeaked nervously.
I gave her a look, my mom look. I had perfected it over the years. She shrunk back. She knew the look all too well.
The ride home was silent. I let Abby stew in her fears of what was to come, but I didn’t exactly know what I was going to say either. I needed to work that out.
I had no idea where to begin with my daughter when her entire life had been shattered. She was my wildflower, my free spirit. Abby couldn’t follow rules before Grady died. How could I expect anything less of her now?
“Hey!” Emma greeted happily. “How was school?”
“Ask Abby,” Blake mumbled and then took off to find a snack.
“What’s wrong?” Emma asked me.
“Hey, can you stick around for a little bit longer? Like another hour?”
“What’s up?” Emma stepped close while Abby hovered nearby.
“I’m going to take Abs for some ice cream,” I whispered so the other kids didn’t overhear. “I need to talk to her.”
“One hour.” She held up her finger to accentuate her point. “I can give you one hour, but no more.”
“You’re a saint, Emma.” I kissed her cheek and then shuffled my wayward child out the door.
We drove to McDonalds where I bought us both vanilla milkshakes and parked in the corner of the lot. I invited her to sit in the front seat with me before turning the radio off and getting down to business.
Once she’d crawled to the front and situated herself with ice cream in hand, I began, “Abs, you cannot keep doing what you’re doing. It is not working.”
“What do you mean?”
I gave her a look. “At school. In the lunchroom. With your homework. Baby girl, you cannot behave the way you are behaving any longer. This behavior and this attitude are just not okay. You are not acting like the Abby I know.”
She opened her mouth to defend herself, but couldn’t find the right words. Her shoulders slumped and she stared down at her cup. “It’s not fair,” she mumbled. “It’s not fair that other people have dads and I don’t.”
I knew this was coming… I knew all of the reasons for her behavior problems and issues at school. Still, nothing could have prepared me for that.