A friend has useful advice: "Know yourself, and cope."
The advice isn't just: "Cope." It's this: "Recognize that there are some particular tar pits that you--and you, especially--tend to wander toward. And *then* cope, bearing in mind your own set of limitations...."
My son's school sometimes complains about the diaper situation. There is a fair amount of ignorance and grievance at the school, and no one but my spouse has access to the same nuanced case history that I carry around in my head. The diaper issue can snowball--so that now, if I get an ambiguous note about a "potty accident," I freak out.
Recently, I had a small triumph. I felt myself wigging out, and I knew where the spiral was headed--and, oddly enough, I chose to *act* on this knowledge. I pushed back, gently. I asked some clarifying questions. The matter was quickly resolved.
My daughter is her own person--my husband has reminded me of this--but, still, I see my own tics in her daily behavior. She has been called "friendly, quiet, eager to help"--but I think these words are double-edged. "Quiet" can be a mask for intense frustration. The frustration generally doesn't show itself at school--but I see it, at home, when weariness is setting in, and there isn't an apparent "need" to give a performance. I'd rather people didn't refer to Susie as "quiet." It would be nice if she could speak up--so that she isn't bubbling with repressed aggravation, at the end of the day.
Baby steps.
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