Donald Trump would be proud

I fired the Girl Wonder’s therapist this morning.
Gasp! What on earth could she have possibly done to deserve that?
Nothing.
That was the problem. I didn’t feel like she was doing anything.
Many of Newt’s issues are resolving themselves quite nicely as as she adjusts to our new home here.
She is more cheerful.

We are seeing a lot more of her silly side.

She’s less worried about getting dirty.

And she is helping more around the house without arguing.

(All of these wonderful things give me more time to play with my photo editing on picnik.)
That’s not to say that all of Girl Wonder’s anxieties are gone; it’s just that we are managing well on our own.
I feel that focusing so much on her OCD and anxieties was making them a “thing”. You know what I mean? Like the time Newt said screamed, “I can’t go to bed right now, I have OCD!”
Besides, the new therapist made me uncomfortable. It wasn’t anything that I could put my finger on, really. I just didn’t see her offering us anything that we didn’t already have.
So I fired her.
Here’s what we are doing instead.
No more labels. We will no longer be talking about “anxiety” or “OCD” in our house. Instead, we will say things like, “I can see that that makes you uncomfortable; let’s try ______.”
Up the exercise. Exercise leads to elevated mood and a better night’s sleep. Girl Wonder and Mr. Frantic have made plans for bike riding every evening. She has set a goal to remove her training wheels on his birthday in July.
Search for alternatives. I am a big believer in alternative medicine. When I was strapped into that old infertility rollercoaster, acupuncture kept me from burying myself in a deep, dark hole of depression. With this in mind, I have made an appointment for Newt with a naturpath.
I’m really excited about this new direction. It feels good. It feels right.
This afternoon, I took Girl Wonder for a new spring haircut. In the car, I told her that I didn’t think she needed to see a therapist anymore.
She said, and I quote, “Whoo-hoo!”
That happy thought got her through the uncomfortable process of getting a spring-sheering.

All of the “hair-pulling” was worth it in the end.

With her new spring-do happily in place, we hit the mall in search of new shoes and the Webkinz I bribed promised in exchange for the haircut.
Here she is an hour later, modeling new summer sandals, a pretty new dress, a Webkinz raccoon, and a blue balloon:

She said with a smile, “I feel like a whole new me.”
Honey, that’s retail therapy.
And I’ll never fire it.