I Don’t See Any Cows
“I don’t see any cows,” I told my daughter.
I don’t care about cows. Why are we talking about cows? Are cows important to my everyday life? I don’t rely on cows on a daily basis so why are we looking for cows?
When I picked up my five-year-old daughter from daycare, I heard her say, “We should look for cows.” Doesn’t she realize that we live in the suburbs? We would not see any cows for miles. Why does it matter to her that we look for cows?
It makes me frustrated to think about cows.
I am thinking the following:
I am in a hurry.
I have to get home and make dinner.
I need to get homework done with my son.
I need to put a load in the laundry.
Oh yeah, did I mail that check?
She asked me a question which broke my train of thought. “Well, can we drive around and look for cows?” My immediate thought, Of course we won’t be driving around looking for cows when I know we won’t see any, entered my brain.
This is why I feel guilty. Most of my time is spent with my 9- year-old autistic son. I spend so much time with him on third grade homework, learning how to read, meetings with a behavioral support specialist, teaching him how to handle his emotions, appointments to continue special education services, occupational therapy, working on communication, multiplication tables and did I mention the text message I just got from his special education teacher that we should spend more time to teach him how to type? The list goes on.
But spending time with my daughter? Not so much.
I feel guilty we aren’t spending that much time together. But when we do spend time together, I noticed she is very bossy. She just turned five. When we use our imaginations with her little ponies, she always tells me what I have to say. She will say, “Okay Mom. You say this and I will say that.” I immediately get frustrated. “I don’t want to say this!”, I tell her. “Why can’t I say what I want when I want?”, I asked. She looks at me and says, “No. You have to do it this way.” I take a deep breath before I say something I regret.
My daughter seeks my attention at the end of the day when I am most tired and when I am ready for bed. It always seems like we never have any time to do anything together. Or when we do, I feel it is rather unpleasant because I am just so tired of My Little Pony, or playing Barbies or even playing outside. She asked me to draw a hopscotch grid using chalk in our driveway. I did. “Mom, why did use red chalk? That’s not what I wanted.” I told her, “You didn’t tell me that you wanted red. Why does it matter what color it is?” She looks at me like I should have known better and walks away never playing hopscotch.
When she becomes bossy or intolerable or my nerves are shot, I think, I would rather….read a book, take a hot shower or even take a nap. But when we are done playing, I tell her I need to do work, such as laundry, she responds, “Great. I will follow you. I love to follow you.” She does not understand “alone time.”
I think back to when she was born and adored how she looked like me. She was such a great baby, a very different experience compared with my son. I think about our future together. Does she know how much I love her? Will we have fights when she becomes a teenager? She doesn’t understand anything about her brother or the stress our lives as parents to a special needs child can be. So why am I so annoyed now we have to look for cows?
Maybe because I don’t want to or because I know we don’t have enough time to look for cows. I tell myself maybe we can look for cows another day. Maybe just the two of us can go gallivanting and do whatever we want, go to a place where there is no time, where we can share an amazing experience and later when we look back and say to each other, “Do you remember that time when we went looking for cows? It was the best time of my life! When are we going to do that again?” I will laugh and agree, “Yes, we must go again and look for more cows. What an adventure!”
Cows will never be something that I am looking for. An adventure filled with love, bonding and wonderment is what I am looking for. Time with my daughter that I know I will never get back.
