Sitting with The Princess in her room one laid back afternoon, I found myself in an interesting conversation. 

Me: Can you say, "La la?"

Her: La la. 

Like it's nothing. 

Me: How about, "Da da?"

She doesn't miss a beat: Da. 

Me: Bubbles. 

Her: Bubba.

Me: Lee. 

Her: Leeeee. 

Me: Momma. 

Her: No. 

And that's all I have to say about that. 

Change of Pace

From time to time, something happens in my world that I just want to share, and then I think: well, poop...it doesn't have anything to do with The Princess or with autism, so I can't really blog about it.  I'm breaking that rule today, because - while this isn't exactly about my beloved daughter or her autism - it's related.  Stick with me.  You'll see why.

The Hubbs and I are avid readers.  No, that's not a figure of speech.  The entire staff at our library knows us - if not by name, then at least by sight - as we're probably two of the most consistent users of the library system in our little rural area.  We love books, and that shows in our choice of entertainment as well as the small library housed in our basement/home office.

David Sedaris is one of my favorite non-fiction writers.  He publishes collections of short essays about his life and his views on whatever strikes his fancy.  While I don't always agree with his opinions, I respect them, and he has a remarkable ability to make me bark-laugh while reading his work.  He's clever, witty and bitingly sarcastic at times.  

Yesterday, while I was on the train to work, I read the following passage in one of his essays and shared it on my personal Facebook page:

"If you don't want to marry a homosexual, then don't. But what gives you the right to weigh in on your neighbor's options? It's like voting on whether or not redheads should be allowed to celebrate Christmas." -David Sedaris

As expected, my friends and family started clicking the 'like' button.  We're an accepting and inclusive bunch, and I thought this would bring a smile to many of their faces.  What I did not expect was this, posted by a man I have known for over a decade:

"Marriage in gods eyes is still between a Man and a women that will not change"

My knee-jerk reaction was to delete his comment.  I believed it had no place on my personal page, and it felt like he was attacking me.   After further consideration, though, I decided that what I really needed to was respond:

"While I hear and respect your opinion, it also saddens me. For one human being to presume he or she knows what is right for all, and to enforce that by limiting the rights of others, is a troubling thought indeed. There are many differences between all of us; some are impressive, others confounding, many of which are messy. I look at these differences and see the beauty that is the human race. In my circle, you'll see black and white people - and every color in between. You'll see blindness, developmental disabilities, the dreaded "normal." You'll see heterosexual and homosexual, rich and poor. I, however, choose to look upon that same group and see but two things: friends and family. That, sadly, seems to be the difference between you and me on this matter."

And that, my friends, is how this seemingly unrelated post circled around and became relevant in the world of The Princess and her autism.  Whether it's related to the color of one's skin, his or her personal beliefs, sexual orientation, mental or physical differences...really, whatever it is...acceptance should never be viewed as a gift to be bestowed on those different from us at our own discretion.  Rather, people should have to work to not be inherently accepted.

Wouldn't that be a nice change of pace? 

A La Ma Ma

For six years, I've been fortunate enough to be involved in The Princess's life.  During the course of those six years, we've had our ups and downs, all through the magnifying lens of her autism. 

My girl possesses a brand of brutal honesty rarely seen in the human race.  She operates without a shred of inhibition or self-consciousness.  She wears her heart on her sleeve.  Unbridled joy can be closely followed by agonizing overload or disappointment. 

In short, you don't have to be a neuropsych to see what my girl is feeling. 

Though she is nonverbal, The Princess communicates things in her own unique way.  I have never doubted her love for The Hubbs and myself, not even for a moment.  How could I, when she makes such concerted efforts to show us each and every day?

Still, I admit to being just a tad envious when I hear her cousins or other little ones telling their parents that they love them.  I know...I do my best not to compare, and I'm happier than I've been in my entire life, but there it is. 

This morning, I walked into The Princess's room to wake her, and I ended up plopped on the floor next to her bed.  Every day, I make a point of sitting down with my girl and telling her just how much she means to me.  With all of the challenges she will face in her life, I want no question about this: she is special, she is kind, she is smart, and she is cherished.

As I've done every other day of her life, I told my girl in no uncertain terms that she is loved. 

And, there in her room on a Sunday morning like any other, my life changed.  Because just after I told her that Momma loves  her, she looked me in the eye with the sweetest smile on her little face and said, "A la ma ma."

A la you, too, baby.  You have no idea how much you mean to me.  Thank you for - once again - pointing out exactly how big the little things can be if we just slow down and take the time to experience them with all we have. 

Imperial

The Hubbs just came bounding down the stairs and barged into my home office with a huge grin on his face.  The reason goes something like this, and I may be paraphrasing a bit:

The Princess is sitting at the kitchen table, eating her peas like a good girl.  And humming The Imperial March from Star Wars.

He was on the verge of tears, and his impression was priceless.

Happy Monday, y'all.  May the force be with you.