Little Fish, Lot of Fear

Little Fish is now officially afraid of

• Flies
• Wasps
• Bees
• Daddy Long Legs
• The front door being open in case a dog runs in
• Holding cat food in case a dog wants it
• Anything feathered
• Anything on four legs if she is on the floor
• Being late
• Father Christmas
• The Tooth Fairy (apparently this is a strange creature who might take all her teeth away, and I now have to buy her teeth from her so the tooth fairy won't come looking in her bedroom. Why do people tell children these things? Or, why doesn't my child manage to process this in the same way other children do?
• Waking up too early or too late
• Crashing the car
• Aeroplanes and helicopters, lawnmowers and chainsaws and anything else loud and near her.
• Walking past parked motorbikes in case they somehow drive off by themselves.
• Falling off the edge of her bed despite not having the ability to roll over in bed.
• That I might walk out of the house one evening and not come back
• That I might pull Mog's tube out
• That I might bang Mog's chair
• That Mog might fall out of bed or off the bench or catch her legs on something.
• Change in routine
• My Fair Lady
  

But she is no longer afraid of

• cats
• dogs at a distance
• thunder
• Mary Poppins
• parties
• trying new foods
  
• meeting people.
• staying home when I go out
• going to school.

Yesterday I watched her sit on the stage at school and say her special line at her school assembly, and sit still and sing a song about how running and jumping and skipping makes for a healthy heart (mmm, good choice, get her really aware of things she can't do and tell her she'll have a heart attack if she doesn't). I then left her happy to be left and excited about being taken home from school by a babysitter. And I watched her follow the other children half a beat behind in all the songs, and looking now visibly slower than the other children. And I sat and thought about all the things she actually can't do, and then all the things she could do but is scared about, and I wondered where her future might go.

Today I watched her at a school friend's disco. First party of the year she's actually managed to attend without melting down at the thought. And only a minor strop about not needing to take paper and pens with her. And she danced, and she won musical bumps (hard to lose when your bum is permanently attached to your seat!), and she did the limbo and the hokey cokey, and she sat on the floor and ate her pizza with the rest of them, and all evening long she was surrounded by boys and girls keen to dance with her and helping to push her and swing her partners by the hand, and crowding in around her to help bounce a space hopper and do the conga, and I watched her look back at me just a few times but mostly throw herself into the party. And at the end of it she said "thank you" very prettily, and she waved at everyone else as she went, and I thought probably her future is right where she is, for the foreseeable bits of it at any rate.

I could still do with something to reduce the fear and panic though.
Tia