Everyone deals with the stress of moving differently. I have three children who get louder and more emotional, usually dissolving in a heap of shouting and tears daily until we adjust. While it is loud and draining, I know EXACTLY how those three are faring on any given day. Then, there is one who redefines passive-aggressive and turtles herself away until the shouting and tears die down. Oddly, it is my turtle-girl that I worry the most about during these transitions—mostly because it is hard to read her inner-turbulence level.

Last night, my turtle-girl curled up on the couch and I could tell something was wrong. I began my barrage of questions I knew she wouldn’t answer:

Having a hard time? Someone bothering you? Missing the States? Is Memphis being mean? Did you lose your Webkinz? Do you have indigestion? Trying to decide between Harvard and Yale for college? Did you flush your toothbrush down the toilet?

By the time I am done, she is usually fighting a smile and rolling her eyes at me, which is a good sign. I made cookies, and she made a message:

Which prompted a response this morning:

Which led to a truce:

Who knew? Magnetic letters are so much cheaper than therapy! Well, at least we are communicating. I better go get another pack of magnetic letters before school starts and maybe a bigger refrigerator.