2012: Looking Back

Looking back over the last year, I can hardly believe the blessings in my life. The Princess's accomplishments alone absolutely amaze me.

Each year, I make a special photo book of all of the things that have happened with our girl, which we give to our families as Christmas gifts. The books follow her progress and growth throughout the year, and there's always a recap at the end, written from her perspective. As I sit here and look back at 2012, marveling at all we've done, nothing seems more appropriate to share with you than this year's book recap:

This was a really big year for me.  Momma and Da are very proud of the things I've accomplished. Some of these things are:

Potty training...I haven't worn a Pull-Up (except at night) in months.

Mimicking...this is the first step toward language, something doctors and other professionals have been watching and hoping for since I was really, really young.  I now mimic many actions, and one of the major things I've learned is how to wave bye-bye.

Following directions...this is a biggie.  One really good example is that I can now walk on the trails at the state park without holding Momma or Da's hand.  With a lot of practice, I've learned to follow simple verbal directions when we are out and about.

Swimming...this is the best part of this whole year, as far as I'm concerned.  This summer, I spent so much time in the water.  Momma and Da worked with me every single day, and by August I could swim from one parent to the other when they stood ten to fifteen feet apart in water that was over my head.

And now comes the sappy.  Nana, grab your tissues.  You know how you get.

If you're reading this, it's because you're very special to me.  I may not speak English on my own yet, but Momma feels confident in telling you that I love you very much.  You accept me for who I am, and I don't think I could ever ask for any more than that.

I am so unbelievably proud of my girl, and I feel so incredibly fortunate to have such a fantastic support system.  Since the going got tough around here a few years ago, so many of you have stepped up and really proven to me how wonderful human beings can be.  I've also found out how selfish and insensitive people can be, but y'all more than make up for that.  I didn't need those other folks, anyway.

One of the things that people said left and right around the time of The Princess's diagnosis was that God never gives us any more than we can handle.  I wrote this off as a canned response parroted by well-meaning people who love us and don't know what else to say.  Now, more than three years after her diagnosis, The Princess shows me every day that this is true.  I can't imagine what my life would be like today without her and her autism.  I've grown in ways I never knew were possible, and I am very proud to stand before you as the person I am today.

I feel truly blessed, and I am looking forward to this coming new year with a glimmer in my eye and hope in my heart.

A Better Christmas Gift

After a week away on business, Nana and Grampy picked me up from the airport on Saturday afternoon.  The Hubbs and The Princess were waiting for us back at their house, and I couldn't get there fast enough.

I was out of that car like a shot, careening up the stairs into the great room and singing out my girl's name.  She was stimming on some blocks in the middle of the room, right next to her ten-month-old cousin, E.

At the sound of my voice, she stopped what she was doing.

Turned to look at me.

Smiled.

Said, "Momma."

Ran across the room and into my arms.

I honestly can't think of a better Christmas gift.

Pity

"And what about The Princess?  Is she totally excited for Santa Claus to come?  What does she want this year?"

...asked everyone I've ever known.  I know it's not meant to affect me the way it does - I know this - but my reaction is not a logical one.

I get all prickly every time I am asked one of these questions, or any of the hundreds of variations on them.  Another favorite: "Does she just love to talk to you on the phone when you're out of town?  I bet she gabs your ear off..." or some other such seemingly harmless smalltalk.

We'll address these one at a time.  Here, my dear readers, are the answers to what seem - at least lately - to be the most commonly asked questions about my sweet little Princess.

No, she is not totally excited for Santa Claus to come.  The fact of the matter is that I don't even know if she has any idea who he is.  Or if she's retained any of the mythology, can she even wrap her little head around the concept?  These are things I may never know, and I am okay with this. 

I have no worldly idea what she wants for Christmas this year.  She does not ask me for things.  She does not flip through toy catalogs like other children her age.  She does not play Internet games or while away the hours with YouTube or Apple apps.  She is perfectly happy playing with the toys she has owned since she was a baby.  There are a few notable exceptions that have been allowed into the club as late entries, but the vast majority of her preferred playthings are plastered with age range labels that have long been left in our dust.  She is happy.  I am happy.  Please do not concern yourself with whatever the "next big thing" may be for little girls of a certain age.  No one in my house knows or cares about them.  Yes, I am asking for practical things for her for Christmas.  No, it is not sad.  End of story.

No, she does not just love to talk to me on the phone when I'm out of town.  She doesn't really seem to understand the concept.  More and more as she gets older, it seems as though she's recognizing the voices that come out of phones, but she has no interest in holding the phone at all.

No, she does not gab my ear off.  She doesn't speak. 

And stop it with the pitying looks when I answer you honestly.  You asked.  I'm not going to lie.  We are content - couldn't be happier, actually - with our lives.  My girl is not an unfortunate victim of some huge, horrible diagnosis.

She is my girl.

And I love her.

If you don't really want to know what's going on with me and my family, do us both a favor by refraining from asking the questions altogether. 

Don't you dare make me feel anything but blessed by what I have.

I wouldn't trade a second of this life for anything.  And if you can't understand that, I should be the one pitying you.

Butterscotch

The Princess's beloved Uncle D dropped by for a visit this weekend.  It's been a while since our girl has seen him, and she had a great time listening to him play the piano and showing him all of the new things she can do since they last hung out.

Mid-afternoon, The Princess headed over to The Grumps' house so Momma, Da and Uncle D could go to the Christmas With Friends party over at Auntie T's place.  She played and bossed her grumparents around.  I played and bossed the boys around.

Good times.

On the way home, the three of us ended up at Jewel.  In a late-night display of sheer brilliance, Uncle D purchased a gigantic - and I mean this guy is HUGE, y'all - teddy bear.  We proceeded to strap the bear into the back seat of the car for the ride home, where he was respectfully placed in his rightful spot.

Butterscotch - that's his name, by the way - patiently waited.

A few hours after Uncle D headed back home, so did The Princess.  Completely unassuming, she walked into the house and sat in her Winnie the Pooh armchair in the living room, digging into her fruit snacks with a vengeance.

As soon as she had finished, The Hubbs and I asked her to come meet someone new in her room.

The very moment she laid eyes on him, she couldn't help but grin.  If I ever doubted love at first sight, this totally seals the deal for me.

You should see her dragging him around the house.

At the Dinner Table

You don't talk about that at the dinner table.  We don't act like that at the dinner table.  No dogs at the dinner table.  You will sit at the dinner table until you've finished your meal, young lady.

How many times have you heard this in your life?  Be honest. 

Do you want to know what we've never really done at our dinner table?  Eat dinner.

It's always been easier to grab a plate and sit in the living room, chowing in front of the TV, so we never really even thought about it.

A couple of months ago, we had our fall parent-teacher conference.  The Fabulous Mrs. G. and her staff told us all about the great stuff that's been happening at school, and The Hubbs and I marveled at how much The Princess is able to do for herself there.

Home has always been a free zone, a place where she doesn't need to worry about tons of structure.  We've always felt she gets enough of that from the other adults in her life, and we've wanted to provide that sanctuary for her...a special place where she can just be her without worrying about a thing.

Lately, though, it has become apparent that a little structure can go a long way.  We've started making small changes that have had big results, and it's really exciting to witness. 

The  most recent is the fact that all three of us sit down at eat together at the dinner table every night.  The Hubbs and I have found that this simple change has helped us to slow down for a short time each evening, while providing the small amount of structure that seems to help our girl find her center.

She comes into the kitchen, sits in her chair at the end of the table, eats her favorite things first, drinks all of her milk from a big girl glass and proceeds to make a fuss over eating whatever unacceptable crap I've shoved in front of her face.

Just like I did when I was five.