Paisley Doodle turns 6!!!

Well, today my oldest daughter turns 6 years old.  It's hard to believe it's been that long since I held her in my arms for the first time and thought to myself "How am I ever going to figure out how to take care of her?"  Haha!!  Little did I know that I'd be in for the ride of my life!

Our 6 years with Paisley have been a LONG road.  To me, the autism we've dealt with has been one of the biggest mysteries of the brain I have ever encountered.  I can honestly say that although some of it has been negative and a difficult challenge, the vast majority of this journey has been positive.  The biggest negative is that Paisley is still unable to communicate her wants and needs for the most part.  I can pretty well anticipate some things, but the part that hurts me to the core is when she is hurt.  When someone hurts her feelings, I don't know.  When her throat hurts, I don't know.  When her tummy aches, her head hurts, her teeth are coming in, anything physically or emotionally painful, I can only guess what is wrong with her.  This is HANDS DOWN the most difficult part of autism.  I can deal with pretty much anything else, but I feel like crying daily over this challenge.  My sincerest hope and prayer is that Paisley WILL be able to communicate these things one day.  I have hope.

Now, on the positive end, I feel as though life with Paisley has definitely made me more akin to the environment.  So much stimulation in this world!!  I am very aware of sounds, sights, and touches.  I am also very tuned in to all of Paisley's nonverbal cues.  I am constantly "on guard" to see how I can make her life easier, and I am guilty of often anticipating and fulfilling her needs just to try and make her life a bit easier.  I have a sharpened sense of awareness with my children that I feel has been honed as a result of autism.  I also  think it's a blessing that Paisley is not into the dramatics.  What is, is.  I am comforted in the fact that she will probably always be very practical-minded and oblivious to the mean social games that young girls tend to use against each other.  As a result, she truly has the sweetest spirit of any kid I know.  She is kind, open to meeting new friends, and smiles--a LOT.  She has no social barriers at this point, so she'll just go right up to a person and hug them, pat their hand and smile, etc.  People love that raw sincerity about her.  She has the gift of oblivion.  It's absolutely beautiful and remarkable.

In Paisley's six years of existence, she has taught me more about life than I've learned on my own or through others in the 28 years preceding her.  I've learned what true patience looks like. I've learned to not be judgmental.  I've learned communication often doesn't come as "naturally" or "inherently" as I was taught in all those psychology classes.  Even the most sophisticated of humans still have to practice communication regularly for it to go smoothly.  I've learned that sometimes simple things in life truly are gifts.  I've learned to be blind to imperfections when needed, and that sometimes a bunch of little imperfections actually make perfection.  I've learned that just because something isn't how you picture it in your mind doesn't mean it's bad or wrong.  I've learned acceptance, realistic expectations, and beauty in differences.  I've learned how to stretch out of my comfort zone, and I've learned to be thick-skinned...especially in Walmart with people's nasty looks, comments, and judgments. ;)  I've learned that Paisley is just Paisley, and that when people who are close to her talk about her, they talk about Paisley, not about autism.  In doing so, I've learned that autism is a characteristic, not an identification.  All in all, I've learned that I have this amazing gift that I am responsible for taking care of and nurturing...and I cannot for the life of me figure out how or why God gave her to me because He knows I can't even keep a freakin' plant alive.  I'm the kid who killed a cactus!!  So, when people look at our life and find out about Paisley's autism and express their sympathy, I just wanna tell them how crazy they are for thinking that because we got the better deal in life!  We have Paisley!!  And she's awesome!  And inspiring!  And she undoubtedly makes me a better person. Daily.  Happy Birthday, Paisley-doodle!!  

           

Zumba-ness

I have a friend named Rachel--a friend since grade 4.
That's being friends for about 20 years, maybe even more.
She recently made me go to a Zumba class
And sure enough, in there, I was the only fat ass.

Her mom was the Zumba teacher
And I really should've just watched from a bleacher
But, my friend from childhood I had to support
So I shook and danced and drank water by the quart.

They had a big long mirror posted to the wall
So you could beautifully capture every embarrassing fall.
My fatty rolls and breasts were flailing about
And all I could think of is "I need to get the hell out!!"

I'm pretty sure Zumba is not for me.
I think it's only for people who have bra cups the size of B.

So...all for my friend, I lost my dignity and pride
while dancing to skanky music and turning to the wrong side.
But, I'd do it all again for my awesome and fun pal
Because that's what friends do--they support their best gal!  

Missing Mimi

So, today is March 3rd.  It's been on my mind a lot lately that around this time last year, I lost my maternal grandmother (we called her "Mimi").  She was the first grandparent of mine that died, and I honestly just didn't know how to deal with it.  Little did I know in the coming months that I'd lose my paternal grandmother, too.  You see, I was fortunate enough to have great grandparents still living well into my late teens/early twenties, so it seemed very odd to me that my Mimi would go to be with the Lord this soon.  Logically, I knew that many of my friends were doing well to have both parents living, and that having all of my grandparents was a VERY uncommon treat.  Mimi had several health problems off and on, but to my knowledge had either conquered or maintained them all.  It was an unbelievable shock that she regressed so quickly to the point of death.

When I think of my one of my last memories of my Mimi, I think about one time that we visited her in the hospital.  She looked worn and tired.  I had dropped Pais off at her ABA school in Dallas and Claire and I headed to the hospital.  We stayed there for a little while, but only got to see her a few minutes.  She was beside herself with Claire.  She asked about my work, how Paisley was doing...wanting specifics of what she had accomplished to date, and how we were doing as a family.  At some point the doctor walked in and gave a disappointing prognosis, but she didn't seem to be too disappointed.  She was WAY too busy showing off Claire and was so proud of how the doctor was doting on her.  She was completely taken with the situation, and her face just beamed with pride.  The next time we went to visit at the hospital was not so lucky.  It was not long after this time that she passed away in her home.  I am so thankful she had those moments with Claire and I am thankful that she got to meet my sweet nephew before she died.  I wasn't there, but I know she just ate that moment up!!

If I had one regret about Mimi passing on, I soooo wished that she could've gotten to see Paisley, too.  You see, she was proud of Pais.  She truly believed in her and cherished her for who she was, and for an elderly person, never once appeared bothered by the odd mannerisms (aka the autism) that Paisley displayed.  She was eager to learn everything she could about autism, and never once treated her any different than a normal kid.  That means more to me than words can express.  I wish I would've just taken Pais out of school and took both girls to see her.  Mimi would've LOVED that.  However, I was so afraid that Paisley would cause a scene or have an "episode" and I didn't want to have to mess with it.  So, because of my own embarrassment, I chose not to....even though Mimi was one of the few people who didn't have a care in the world about how others saw Paisley.  I forfeited her that joy because I was selfish, and for that I am extremely remorseful.

The thing I miss the most about my Mimi is her bragging on me.  That's weird, isn't it???  I still occasionally look for her comments on FB because she was one of my biggest cheerleaders, and never missed an opportunity to lift me up.  No matter what, she was always proud of me.  Everybody on this planet needs someone who is proud of them.  She was proud of my academics, proud of my career, proud of my spiritual walk, and proud of my children.  With both of my grandmothers being gone, I will never feel that sense of someone (other than my parents) offering that much support for the rest of my life.  It leaves a huge empty hole in my being.  I was certain that Mimi always had my back on anything and everything.  She even drove all the way to Little Rock, AR, to stay with me in the hospital for a few days when I had my car accident.  I still have my great granny (my Mimi's mother) who is still living, and I know that she is proud as well, but I don't get to see her often.  When she is gone, I am not sure how I will cope.  Some of you reading this may think I am silly for putting such great stock into this aspect of missing someone, but confidence has never been my strong point.  I guess I used Mimi's pride in me as sort of compensation for the lack of confidence in myself.  At times, I find myself sewing away on clothing, or doing crafts with the kiddos (I got all of her crafty stuff she left behind), or looking through photos just to feel close to her again, or at least to feel like I might be making her proud still in doing these things.

I am thankful for Mimi's legacy-- her creativity, her "bad-ass" attitude, her unfailing and unwavering support of my children and me, her craving for education and knowledge, her constant encouragement to "just be yourself because that's good enough for me", her physical presence at every important event I've ever had, and her ability to paint her fingernails in such a way that it looked professional--every dang time!!  Talent!  I miss her.  Dearly.