love and truths
May 4, 2011 § Leave a comment
My daughter is ever mindful of her big brother’s movement through the day. From the beginning, she has followed him in the shadows of his distractions, monitoring his activities and interests with love and admiration. The comfortable span of four years between them, there has been little cause for comparison, until now. More socially attune to the world around her, she has begun to lead her big brother creating a new experience between them.
It began with physical cues. Her brother lost in his own thoughts, she would redirect him with a touch on his shoulder or the small of his back, naturally guiding him into a moment. Initially she seemed to respond to this need with joy; happily stepping forward and finding a place by her brother’s side.
Recently, my daughter’s voice filled with sadness, she asked me why her brother was born different. She catalogued the spaces between them and I felt my world tilt off course with the weight of consciousness underlying her questions.
As their mother, my heart ached for the answers. I found my way through a difficult language of love as I acknowledged my daughter’s needs and my son’s truths. We are all imperfect and in the understanding we sometimes find ourselves called to place our own needs aside in an act of love. I realized late, my daughter had set aside needs and was placing them carefully in my hands. Together we are filling in the spaces between our differences and caring for one another’s needs with love and truths.
graffiti
May 2, 2011 § 1 Comment
Stepping in to the shower I tugged the curtain back exposing a colorful explosion of words and numbers scrawled in the markedly flamboyant and determined hand of my daughter. 12345six78910… the numbers chasing one another across the tiles in brilliant blues, bold reds, and burnt orange; her tally stretching to 100 with six continually spelled out neatly amidst the numeric symbols, a simple nod to my daughter’s age. Words plucked from labels of shampoo and body wash bottles accompany her numbers; marketing and accounting scribbled in a child’s hand.
My daughter’s reading and math skills were slow to blossom, but her energy and determination ever-present. She captures words and numbers on papers and walls, with pen, chalk, paint and now bathtub markers. She pulls these ideas from around her, trapping each concept and making them her own; like a firefly nestled in a mason jar gifting light and admiration to those wishing for a glimmer of illumination.
I love her spontaneous sharing and for a moment I am delightfully lost to the unexpected graffiti in my shower; absorbing the light her joy brings to my days.
hello, sunshine
April 30, 2011 § Leave a comment
Grey skies and rain drenched days have kept us huddled indoors, dreary of damp afternoons. Today, the sun blossomed through the clouds and warmth spread as quickly as smiles. My daughter dressed with frantic intent and we set off for a park.
Racing ahead of me, ponytail swinging to the rhythm of her footsteps, she lovingly traced the lines of the play structure; reacquainting herself with an old friend. She slipped casually down each slide and climbed each ladder retracing footsteps from summers past. Then she settled in a quiet corner, paper and pen in hand.
I watched bewitched by the peaceful tilt of her head as she folded herself over her work in concentration. Each of us absorbing the sunshine.
normal needs
April 25, 2011 § Leave a comment
When my son was seven, he gifted me a moment of insight that guides me as his mother. With wisdom and self-awareness beyond his years, he said to me: I know that I’m different and I like who I am, but I don’t like it when other people make me feel different. This moment wakes with me each day.
His sharing came during a difficult time. A year into a diagnosis that had begun to help my husband and I better understand our son’s various behaviors and needs, we were finding our footing while our son was struggling to find his. Social challenges made school days difficult, our son navigated the expectations of his teachers as mindfully as he absorbed the weight of unkind jests by his peers. Our son was looking for belonging and acceptance without conformity.
In moments of adversity I frequently return to a personal truth, special needs are extraordinarily normal. Virtues like patience, kindness, and tolerance should not be reserved for special conditions or occasions, they should be the standard by which we live every day. From this place we are all equal and anything is possible, our differences as normal as our needs.
lemonade
April 23, 2011 § Leave a comment
Cold symptoms and grey, rainy days cast a shadow across Easter weekend; Spring felt misplaced. Determined to embrace the extra time and celebrate childhood traditions, I gathered my lemons and made lemonade.
Outdoor egg hunts and time with friends canceled, my family refocused our energy indoors on quiet, creative endeavors. An Easter diorama, a project inspired by a neighborhood gathering with friends, became a happy distraction. Construction paper and confectionary figures wove fictional story lines within the confines of a child size shoebox. Later, vinegar scented cups of egg dye captured our imaginations as we absorbed the task of filling in the space of nature’s blank canvas.
Tomorrow my children will wake eager to discover baskets with simple treats before we settle around a table for brunch. I cherish the new moments as they cross paths with old memories in the footsteps of tradition.
change
April 20, 2011 § Leave a comment
Yesterday I noted a small change to my family’s morning routine in an understated post. The subject was simple, but something lingered unsaid. I felt compelled to preserve the moment while I looked for what lay hidden between the lines of the passage, a lump in my throat I could not name. Slowly, the words came in my son’s voice.
I began to replay the morning’s exchange with my son, listening with my heart until I could acknowledge the word tugging at my emotions. Baby. In the shuffle of birthday celebrations, middle school registration forms, and laundry outgrown and set aside for donations I recognized a milestone. My son’s footsteps have begun to fall further from my side.
No longer a little boy and not quite a young man, he is on the cusp of something new. My breath held and my heart full of hope, I am mindful that I can no longer brush away injuries with Band-Aids or stand present for every challenge. I am trusting he will still reach out, but waiting quietly in faith. The word baby seemed to be reminding me of the time.
routine
April 19, 2011 § Leave a comment
There was a time my children woke each day, promptly at 7 o’clock, despite the day or season. Our morning routines evolved naturally and I embraced the opportunity to spend a carefree moment with both children before they were swept into the structured schedule of their school day. Lately, my early birds have nestled more deeply beneath their blankets and their footsteps have become weighted with resistance; smiles hidden behind yawns.
In a decision as uncomplicated as waking up, I let go of our routine and traded playtime for sleep. It was a simple adjustment, evolving as naturally as the routine it replaced. This morning my son paused in the kitchen to thank me for letting him sleep. As he washed his breakfast dishes, a formality often overlooked as he sleepwalked through the morning, he opened up saying he felt grateful that I didn’t “baby” him. I hadn’t considered such a simple adjustment could foster a greater sense of independence. I let go of an hour and gained an unexpected moment of insight.
fashion forward
April 10, 2011 § Leave a comment
We have bent the rules of fashion around our daughter’s precocious personality. Polka dots taunt sassy stripes; bright colors compliment bold theatrical statements; sentimental gowns with ribbons and ruffles spark spontaneous celebrations. Our little girl climbs trees in a cloud of tulle, inspired and unafraid. She is her own norm in a sea of little girl trends.
A special occasion around the corner, my daughter donned her favorite pair of flamingo pink rain boots and purple cat eye sunglasses on a cloudless day as we set off on a treasure hunt for a new dress. She met the dress like an old friend, smiled her hello and never let go. Flamboyant ruffles and shoes that tap, I followed from dressing room to accessories, curious as her personality peeked from among the pieces. She is a little girl in love with a look of her own making.
bedtime
April 9, 2011 § Leave a comment
Somewhere between the colorful illustrations of a picture book and the independent efforts of chapter books, lies a special time when shared pages of longer stories sweep parent and child in to the enchanting space of a story. Curled next to my daughter, reading a gifted author, I endearingly note she watches my lips move, eyes wide as the pictureless story weaves from words to voice, becoming. In the quiet moments before bedtime we share the magic of a book.
There will come a time when she will navigate these voyages between chapters on her own. I wonder if she will tuck her book under her pillow dreaming of the characters she has come to know or if she will stow away beneath her bedding gathering the story close by the glow of a flashlight. For now, she happily listens to the stories I select. It will be curious to see the titles she will find for herself.
Like her big brother before her, she has made space in her days and her heart for possibility between the pages of a book.
scribblechic 