My daughter is amazing.
Just four years old. So stinkin' smart.
Everything comes easy for her. At least so far.
She is independent, stubborn and resilient. And thank goodness, because her little life already has experienced more unfairness than any child's should. She is going to have to be strong, so it is a good thing her strength appears to come naturally.
She never forgets. She sometimes brings up memories -- stories from many months gone by -- and reminds me of them as if they happened yesterday, down to the tiniest detail. She even has recounted special things we did more than a year ago, things I never would have expected her to remember.
She is incredible. And, oh, how she has been such a gift -- the one aspect of my life these past several months -- these horrible, horrible months -- that never fails to make me smile.
But does she have her moments ....
Two days ago I was checking out at the Walmart. I am trying to make sure my autistic son doesn't take off. (You see, the boy who once was so good about staying near to me and listening to instructions has now developed a habit of running from me in all open spaces. And, wow, is he fast. It is just so funny to tick Mom off. ) I am trying to get all the bagged groceries into the cart. I am trying to get out the credit card. I am trying to keep my son from pulling the candy bars off the shelves and opening them right there on the spot.
And, what do I see out of the corner of my eye but my little girl -- so full of sweetness and love -- wrapping up a princess cell phone and some lip gloss in her winter coat. She bundles up her loot and turns to walk out of the store with me, carrying the coat casually under her arm like she has not a care in the world.
JESUS!!! My daughter is an attempted shop-lifter!!
OK, so if I didn't have my son with me, I probably would have stopped and had some big discussion with her about what she was doing. I would have gone into detail about the wrongness of it all--that when people steal it makes the rest of the world have to pay more--that it isn't right to take something from a store without paying just like it wouldn't be right for a stranger to come into her home and take off with her favorite toys.
But I did have my son. And taking my eyes from him for even a second these days can result in all sorts of trouble.
So, I just said, "What you are doing is called stealing. It is wrong and we are not going to do it. Put everything back."
As surprised as I was to see my daughter crafting a plan to steal, I also was cracking up, just a bit, on the inside.
Oh, how she is going to keep me on my toes, and in ways so very different from her brother. She already is filled with personality and has attitude to match. I am going to have to outsmart her, and when that is giving me a bit of trouble when she is four, I can't even imagine what life might be like when she is a teen.
Her newest little quirk is wanting to take all her clothes off when she gets home from school. Sometimes she will go through three or four outfits, but frequently she will want to just sit around in her birthday suit. (Yes, you are remembering correctly, it is her BROTHER who is on the autism spectrum, not her).
What is up with that???
If only, I suppose, we all could be so comfortable with our nakedness!
I don't know what the future has in store for my stealing, stripping, super smart girl, but, wow, does she enrich my life. She is my greatest joy, my reminder that life will bring lots of laughter my way -- despite the worries regarding her disabled brother, despite the pain of divorce.
But for now, I'll just be sure to shake out that coat before leaving the Walmart.
March 9, 2010
March 7, 2010
Yesterday
It started with a busted lip courtesy of my daughter.
(Actually, the cut is on the inside. But my top lip got swollen. I am no match for Angelina, but I kind of like the puffy lip -- if only it didn't hurt!)
In the afternoon, I listened to my daughter talk about poop for a good 7 or 8 minutes while waiting for her to finish her business in a public bathroom. Who knew there was so much to discuss?
Later, I fished my autistic six-year-old son out of the public pool after he decided the occasion called for skinny-dipping. I looked up to see his swimsuit floating on the water's surface. And there was my boy, floating like a jelly fish -- his white tush sticking straight out of the water .
Say what ya want, but my life is NOT boring.
(Actually, the cut is on the inside. But my top lip got swollen. I am no match for Angelina, but I kind of like the puffy lip -- if only it didn't hurt!)
In the afternoon, I listened to my daughter talk about poop for a good 7 or 8 minutes while waiting for her to finish her business in a public bathroom. Who knew there was so much to discuss?
Later, I fished my autistic six-year-old son out of the public pool after he decided the occasion called for skinny-dipping. I looked up to see his swimsuit floating on the water's surface. And there was my boy, floating like a jelly fish -- his white tush sticking straight out of the water .
Say what ya want, but my life is NOT boring.
Thanks, girl
S,
Thanks for the midnight phone call.
Perfect timing.
Perfect words.
And, I know I've said it before, but, seriously, thanks for saving me God-only-knows-how-much money in therapy.
Thanks for the midnight phone call.
Perfect timing.
Perfect words.
And, I know I've said it before, but, seriously, thanks for saving me God-only-knows-how-much money in therapy.
March 2, 2010
The Value of Friendship
How does one ever tell a friend how much she is valued?
The last year of my life has been, to say the least, tumultuous. I have been hurt deeply by someone who should have been my best friend, every day of my life.
I have struggled to process my own pain while also worrying about the needs of my two young children, one of whom can't say a single word to me -- not a single, solitary word -- about anything, much less the complexities of his world.
I currently am observing behavioral regression in my autistic son. And, oh, how I hate the word "regression." But that is exactly what I am seeing.
Why? Why are we moving backward on certain levels? Is it due to the events taking place in his family life?
Oh, what can I say? Crap, crap, crap. (That is the edited version.)
But there are some gals in my life, a group of strong women who could grab the attention of a room full of men just by walking through. They are that beautiful.
They also are smart, and confident, and caring.
They are wonderful, wonderful friends.
A shout out to you, girls. Thanks for the night out last week. Thanks for all the nights-out to come.
Thank, you, thank you, thank you for telling me that you have my back no matter what. For your understanding, for your sympathy, for your friendship.
You are, indeed, priceless.
The last year of my life has been, to say the least, tumultuous. I have been hurt deeply by someone who should have been my best friend, every day of my life.
I have struggled to process my own pain while also worrying about the needs of my two young children, one of whom can't say a single word to me -- not a single, solitary word -- about anything, much less the complexities of his world.
I currently am observing behavioral regression in my autistic son. And, oh, how I hate the word "regression." But that is exactly what I am seeing.
Why? Why are we moving backward on certain levels? Is it due to the events taking place in his family life?
Oh, what can I say? Crap, crap, crap. (That is the edited version.)
But there are some gals in my life, a group of strong women who could grab the attention of a room full of men just by walking through. They are that beautiful.
They also are smart, and confident, and caring.
They are wonderful, wonderful friends.
A shout out to you, girls. Thanks for the night out last week. Thanks for all the nights-out to come.
Thank, you, thank you, thank you for telling me that you have my back no matter what. For your understanding, for your sympathy, for your friendship.
You are, indeed, priceless.
February 24, 2010
To Jake's Mom
There is a wise woman I know -- a Texas gal a bit to the South of me -- who has three kids, including a son, Jake, with autism.
She is one of the fabulously amazing moms I have met through the Internet. It was years ago, when I was seriously pregnant with my daughter and so worried about my son.
We have corresponded throughout the years -- sometimes sporadically, sometimes with great frequency.
Did I mention she is wise?
Years ago, when my son was about three, and my daughter just one, and I was in the midst of my "why my child/why my family" phase, she told me something that made me pause. She told me she had plenty of her own dark days due to autism. Lots of tears, lots of stress, lots of anger, etc., etc. But somewhere along the way she began to quit thinking in terms of the future and to live in the present.
She said she reached a point where she could pray and thank God "for Jake exactly as he is."
What powerful words.
What a simple concept.
And, yet, there I was -- my daughter still didn't sleep through the night; my husband worked horrible hours; my son was struggling,and biting.
And I was not there, not yet.
Oh, the guilt. What kind of mother couldn't listen to that statement and think, "Oh, yeah, I am thankful for my child, just as he is."
Well, my dear friend, your words stuck with me.
And I want you to know that I reached that point -- I reached it a while back, actually.
It is a wonderful feeling.
And as you would say, I, too, still throw my hands up at the unfairness of it all. My son has the purest heart, and no child should have to struggle as he does. I would do just about anything to hear him talk.
But he has taught me so many things.
That there is no such thing as a "small" accomplishment.
That the most important joys are the simple ones.
That you can love a person with your entire heart and soul without the exchange of a single word.
And, most of all, just as Jake has done for my friend, my son has taught me the most important lesson of my life ...
What it truly means to be a mother.
She is one of the fabulously amazing moms I have met through the Internet. It was years ago, when I was seriously pregnant with my daughter and so worried about my son.
We have corresponded throughout the years -- sometimes sporadically, sometimes with great frequency.
Did I mention she is wise?
Years ago, when my son was about three, and my daughter just one, and I was in the midst of my "why my child/why my family" phase, she told me something that made me pause. She told me she had plenty of her own dark days due to autism. Lots of tears, lots of stress, lots of anger, etc., etc. But somewhere along the way she began to quit thinking in terms of the future and to live in the present.
She said she reached a point where she could pray and thank God "for Jake exactly as he is."
What powerful words.
What a simple concept.
And, yet, there I was -- my daughter still didn't sleep through the night; my husband worked horrible hours; my son was struggling,and biting.
And I was not there, not yet.
Oh, the guilt. What kind of mother couldn't listen to that statement and think, "Oh, yeah, I am thankful for my child, just as he is."
Well, my dear friend, your words stuck with me.
And I want you to know that I reached that point -- I reached it a while back, actually.
It is a wonderful feeling.
And as you would say, I, too, still throw my hands up at the unfairness of it all. My son has the purest heart, and no child should have to struggle as he does. I would do just about anything to hear him talk.
But he has taught me so many things.
That there is no such thing as a "small" accomplishment.
That the most important joys are the simple ones.
That you can love a person with your entire heart and soul without the exchange of a single word.
And, most of all, just as Jake has done for my friend, my son has taught me the most important lesson of my life ...
What it truly means to be a mother.
February 22, 2010
My Silent Internet Scream
AAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
I think I need to do it again:
AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
OK, I needed to get that out of my system.
Now on to tomorrow.
I think I need to do it again:
AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
OK, I needed to get that out of my system.
Now on to tomorrow.
February 19, 2010
A Toast
To the friends who lift you up in your darkest hours.
To the beautiful, amazing women who worry about your kids and what they are going through, and worry, too, about your broken heart.
To the gals who cheer you on to bigger and better things.
To the women who lift their glasses and toast to you ....
and to new beginnings.
To the beautiful, amazing women who worry about your kids and what they are going through, and worry, too, about your broken heart.
To the gals who cheer you on to bigger and better things.
To the women who lift their glasses and toast to you ....
and to new beginnings.
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