THERAPY

Tomorrow we have a BIG day in "Detroit" (as we westerners call anything "over that way")....actually we will be in Livonia, at the therapist's and in Farmington Hills, to see the psychiatrist.  

The first time we went to the psychiatrist, we literally had to physically get Anastasia out of bed, into her clothes, into the car and to the appointment.  I offered lunch on the way home and a stop at the outlet mall to sweeten the deal and to keep her from jumping out of the car.  It seemed anything could be possible.  The first trip to the therapist was similar.  The third was a bit better and the next easier yet - and so forth.  The last couple of times, I've arrived home (from dropping the boys off at school) to find my sweet one nicely dressed and ready to go - and no suggestions that she ought to get a "reward" for going.

One time a few weeks ago I asked her why she seemed so reluctant, especially as she seemed to like Julie (our therapist) and "get a lot out of" therapy.  She looked at me as though I were crazy, and said, "Because it makes me feel like there is something wrong with me."   Of course!  Why would I not see that right away!  "Regular" kids don't go to the psychiatrist, or therapy....   Of course I pointed out that a doctor for one's mind is not unlike a doctor for one's body, and referred to Serge's physical therapy appointments; I drew attention to the many young people we see on our way in and out of both places.  Perhaps that helped a bit. 

Hopefully I won't jinx things by writing that therapy is going pretty well.  Julie is wonderful, and Anastasia is more wonderful yet.  Frankly, I cannot imagine anyone making more of the opportunity.  She doesn't distract or waste time, she settles into the deep issues almost before she sits down - in fact, one day she brought up something very important, while we were yet in the car.  She asks questions, gives thoughtful answers - is entirely engaged.  I could not be more proud of her.

One nice little bonus is that both offices are quite close to the "Russian Store".  The Russian grocery is curiously called "New York Deli".   I often chuckle when I envision the many people who have, undoubtedly, come in for corned beef and rye bread, only to find themselves transported to another country.  

They have everything you could Here is a freezer full of pelmeni (mostly).  I was standing there recently pondering purchasing some when a Russian lady briskly said (as only a Russian would do), "You don't buy these!  You make them yourself!"  I could hardly purchase any after that!  Actually, I have made them myself, and they aren't that difficult.  She was right.

The store had just about anything you could want....beverages galore, meats, cheeses, fish; this past visit they had added a whole display of various fresh breads.  I was a bit wimpy and couldn't feel comfortable taking more photos than this.  

The challenge now is not to spend too much money there.  Everything I buy is so coveted by everyone that it doesn't last very long!

I'm so glad that this natural reward has developed to repay Nastya for all her hard work.