UNDER THE MICROSCOPE

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2001-12-14 - 8:23 a.m.

THE PUZZLE CALLED DAY-HAY

How can someone look so like me and be so different? What do you do with those solemn, big, brown eyes with the long, long lashes when they are accusing you of lack of caring? How can I (and should I) explain that I don�t love Kat more, I just understand her better?

Some people, like Kat, wear their hearts on their sleeve. When they are happy, they radiate. When they are sad, they weep. They roll from one emotion to another but you always know where you stand right then. They can lash out or be incredibly generous but nothing is planned, it�s all spontaneous. I usually know what Kat wants, sometimes before she�s been able to articulate it, and then can decide whether I can or should give it to her.

The Day-Hays are trickier to read. Accustomed to watching to counting to waiting, they give few clues. They measure, they mark, they think. Their fears�of not being good enough, not being pretty enough, not being smart enough, not being loved enough�become all that show. I can see the need but I can�t grasp what will satisfy it. I know I am being watched and judged and I know I am coming up short but I don�t know whether I�d be in the same place if I really knew what she wanted.

Occasionally, I try to tell myself that it�s just because she�s an eleven year old girl. In my experience, eleven year old girls are touchy and, while they may be happy in general, they are rarely pleased by the actions of adults. Eleven year old girls live to criticize, especially when it comes to their mothers. They define themselves in that criticism. Most of them grow out of it in a year or two (although I know a few women who are still in this stage vis-a-vis their mothers.) Part of it is because she is an eleven year old girl but there�s more to it than that. Her being eleven just makes it worse.

There are many things to admire and love about Day-Hay. She has a fierceness, a feistiness, and an intensity that will get her far. She is the most persistent person I know (which I admire when she�s not after me for something.) She is generally well-organized and responsible. This year she prides herself on not having missed a homework assignment and all her teachers are raving about her. When she dances, there is a joy and grace to her that I wish I had. She has a fast grasp of pattern and a larger group of friends than anyone else around here ever had.

I just wish I understood what made her tick and what she wants from me. I love her deeply and I know her so well�and so poorly. I�ve seen her every day of her life. I know what sizes she wears, what she likes to eat for breakfast, when she last took a shower, and what her favorite color is. Yet I feel as though I barely know her at all.

How do you solve the puzzle called Day-Hay?

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