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“Gemma… eyeballs on me. What were you told to do, and what are you actually doing?? Do. They. Match?!?”

“Umm… oops! Nope! Wait. What am I supposed to be doing?”

This is a conversation we’re having many, many times each day. It’s so easy to get frustrated and impatient as she’s distracted for the thousandth time doing a seemingly simple task. Her mind works on overtime all the time. She’s reading far above her level, playing card games like a card shark, learning piano, and writing stories. That fast-moving brain just sometimes moves in all the directions too quickly for her to follow, and we’re learning to slow down our expectations to better help her cope with the swift flow of her thoughts.

Last Friday night we all joined Ray at her cricket practice. The sun was setting, black cockatoos flocked the trees lining the pitch, and a perfect breeze was blowing gently through. Gemma, Willa, and Brian went to an empty part of the field where they played their own cricket game. Brian bowled to Willa, Willa hit, and Gemma fetched balls. Everyone was doing what they love, until inspiration hit. Suddenly, Gemma sprinted for the far end of the field where I could just make out that she was deep in some imaginary game. As soon as she came back over to me I could see her hair had grass cuttings in it that she’s been told countless times not to sprinkle over herself. When gently pushed on how the grass got into her hair, she admitted she’d participated in some sprinkling. Her grandfather asked why she decided to do something that will cause her frustration later (and that she has been clearly told not to do), and she shrugged, genuinely confused with her own decision-making, and said, “Well, I needed fairy dust to fly!!!”

She certainly faced natural consequences for the next several days as we combed out dried grass stuck deep down near her head, but we didn’t make a big deal out of the misstep. She’s working so hard to remember instructions and her brain has a big imagination. We’re not going to shield her from the consequences of not listening, but we’re tempering our expectations and trying each time to get down to the whys. I love that she was over there creating a whole story and world for herself. I don’t love that she disobeyed. Diligent, loving, and gentle course correction is the name of the game right now as we try to shepherd her into making intentional, rather than impulsive, decisions throughout her days. And I’m hoping we’ll always be ready to hear about the fairy flights with patience and love and some behind-the-hand laughs!