A New Anniversary

I can't believe it's been a year. A year ago I wrote this and I pretty much decided to completely change my life. I was naive and scared and I had no idea the roller coaster I was in for.

I have no regrets.

Change isn't easy. You don't just wake up one day and think "you know, I think I'll make my life harder today!" But starting over, for me, was first a realization. Then that realization grew and one day I did wake up and said "I'm ready." And now, looking back, I realize that I wasn't ready at all! There is no way to prepare yourself for a total life upheaval. There just isn't. You take the step and feel the air under your feet and hope beyond hope that you land softly.

So, I think the thing people want to know is how the kids and I are doing now.

Me? I still find myself in awe when I describe myself and my life. A year ago I didn't even have my own bank account. Now I just started a new job at one of my favorite places in the whole world (Starbucks. Of course.) I had to learn how to pay bills, along with how to shop at Home Depot and how to kill spiders. And I learned the pride that comes with seeing that paycheck and watching it provide for your needs. Sounds so simple, but it really isn't. Last year we had a Christmas tree with presents all around it. And every one of those presents was provided by some amazing people who love our family. This year, there will be one present for each kid. Those are the presents that I bought and picked with care, and I have to say that I am bursting with excitement over the upcoming Christmas morning. While I am beyond grateful for what we received last year, I am so very proud of our "pauper" Christmas. And I have no doubt my kids will smile just as much.

My new job is coming with two big advantages. One is that I will have insurance. I have not, in my adult life, had dental or vision insurance. When you have my faulty teeth and eyes, that is a major problem. I could weep with relief. The second advantage is that they will be paying for the completion of my degree. Yes, finally, I'm finishing that up! I've already got a semester under my belt and I'm loving it. Yes, the deadlines might kill me and finals gave me an ulcer, but I'm loving it, I promise!

And those are the labels that I find myself wearing. A part time employee, a full time student, and a full time mom. Because even when you share custody, the mom thing is always and forever. I am still getting used to the custody part. While I'm not yet officially a divorcee (which sounds like such a cool word, very misleading) we do have a parenting plan in place and I'm glad. The kids get great quality time with each of their parents and I think they are thriving. While this isn't what anyone plans and hopes for when they first have kids, it isn't as horrific as I'd once thought. My little loves have consistency and they have a Mom and Dad who love them. It isn't all sunshine and rainbows, but it never is. It never was. The progress that they have made in the past year is just astounding to me. A year ago I was worried about regressions and possible behavior problems and speech troubles and all the things that might happen. The road hasn't been bump free but these kids are rocking life right now. I'm so proud of the people they are and the people they are becoming.

There is also this big part of my life that you don't hear me talk much about but that doesn't make it any less. I love a woman. And she loves me. She has a little boy with autism and I love him too. I want everyone that reads this to know that just typing this tiny little paragraph makes me smile like you wouldn't believe.

I didn't know that life could be this beautiful and this hard and this rewarding. I'm so very glad I took the step. I know I'm one of the lucky ones. If you are thinking about changing your entire life, think hard. Because it is hard, in case I haven't mentioned that enough. But for me? Worth it. Oh so very worth it.

Spring has sprung

I haven't had a computer for a while, so I have been completely out of the blog writting loop. But a dear friend requested a post, so here I am, typing with my thumbs on the tiny screen of my phone. In other words, no commenting on all of the mistakes that are bound to riddle this post.

Spring is here in all of its green glory. I think the kids and I are spring people. I'm not exactly an outdoor girl. I admire nature until I have to be out in it and am faced with the reality of bugs and itchy grass. But there is something about spring that makes even me want to be outside.

Spring is lush and green and brings the feeling of promise with it. I know the new year is when people tend to make their resolutions and look hopefully into the future, but I find myself doing that on a lovely spring afternoon. This is when I resolve to eat more fruits and veggies (a resolution that never quite sticks) and spend less time on my phone. Spring awakens my optimism and stirs up hope. Sitting on my patio, in the shade of five big beautiful trees, with the breeze rustling through the leaves and listening to the sound of birds chirping and children playing...how can I be anything less than optimistic?

The kids play outside for hours a day. They run and dig and collect branches to swing around alarmingly. They eat outside and play outside and don't even seem to notice that they are surviving just fine on less Disney. There is chase and ball to be played. There are heaps of pebbles to run their fingers through. There is a hammock to swing on. They are happy. I see Rascal close his eyes and lift his face up as a breeze sweeps over the yard and I know he is like his mama. He is a child with spring in his heart.

All too soon the days will grow far too warm for my taste and these beautiful spring days will turn into hot mosquito filled agony for me. So for now I'm treasuring these beautiful days and hoping they stretch out as long as possible. Our first spring with our house and our yard, and the promise of many years to come. Happy spring, my babies.

Who You Are

We sat down at the Parent Teacher conference with hopes of hearing good news. What I didn't realize at the time, was just how good the news could be.

They love my girl. Diva Girl has won the hearts of the entire school, it seems. Her two teachers, one regular education and the other special education, were eager to show us her progress but also to just talk about her personality. And let me tell you, the girl has personality. In fact, one of the first things said about her is that "She has such a big personality!" Ain't that the truth. The other words phrases we heard? "I love how sassy she is!"  "All of the kids love her." "She is so full of spunk!" "She is a hard worker, she loves to work." "She is so smart."

Those words just filled me up to the gills with pride. 

Yes, Diva Girl has autism. Yes, she has struggles. But that isn't what we focused on. We focused on these other words, these other descriptors that show every bit of who she is. I felt like they could see her. Not just her disability, but the whole of her. I am in no way ashamed of her autism, but she is so much more than just one label. She has many labels, many words that make up who she is.

All I want are for people to see them. Truly see my kids for who they are. I want them to see Diva Girl's sassy confidence. I want them to see Rascal's sweet heart. I want them to see Vlad's inquisitive mind. There are so many words to describe each of them. Smart, contemplative, beautiful, funny, silly, eager, hyper. She is a daughter and a sister, they are sons and brothers. They have depth and character and the capacity for so much more than one word could ever convey. 

So, when people see what I see in them, I get pretty excited. Really, I think that anytime anyone is truly seen for who they are, that is a beautiful thing. Diva Girl has no qualms about showing her truest self to the world. In her childish honesty, she has won the affection and love of everyone from the kids in her classroom to the vice principal. I couldn't be more proud.

Celebrate the Small

I do it all the time with my kids.

Licked a fruit? Celebrate!
Said a word? Party time!
Went to the bathroom? Let's have a freakin parade!!!

With a kid on the spectrum, you tend to celebrate a lot of small victories, because they are no longer small at all. The hurdles are high and it takes all that they've got to get over them. And when they make the leap and land on their feet, I'm there to applaud and rejoice and be proud.

So why can't I do that for my own bruised self?

I was abundantly vulnerable sharing my struggle with anxiety with you all. I don't know that I've ever received such an outpouring of love and support. You told me that I'm not alone. But I still find myself going through a whole lot of mental self abuse.

I make a phone call. And instead of celebrating the fact that I did it, I berate myself for struggling to make it in the first place. Big Deal, Anxiety Me says, So you did something that every normal adult does all the time. And I feel weak and childish for even feeling a moment of pride in the accomplishment.

And if the call doesn't go well? Oh, then I may as well call it a day.

Why do I do this? Why can't I take pride in overcoming my anxiety? Why do I make it another way to beat myself up?

I don't have an answer. But I do know that every day I celebrate victories for my children. I see them struggle so much, so seeing them succeed is even sweeter. Maybe I need to take a lesson from myself here. Maybe it is time to celebrate the small, for myself. Maybe, just maybe, I deserve it. I'll try to get that through to Anxiety Me.

Things I Learn: Field Trip Edition

Today I went on my first public school field trip as a parent. Here is what I learned:

- Calling a friend "Miss Pee Pee" is hilarious, but "Miss Poo Poo" is an insult.

- Kids cheer for all kinds of stuff. Pass a house with cool Halloween decor? YAAAAAY! See a cow? YAAAAAAY! Arrive or leave anyplace? YAAAAAAAAAY!

- Six year olds think I can pass for Diva Girl's older sister.

- Dive Girl rarely eats things that I send for lunch and that she typically adores at home.

-Pumpkin picking is serious business.

-Cows like eating pumpkins.

-Typical children never stop talking. Or asking questions.

- Parents are free to completely ignore the "NO SIBLINGS ALLOWED!!!!!" that was on every bit of field trip info sent home. Or so it seemed.

- Diva Girl's aide is awesome. So is her regular education teacher. We totally lucked out.

- Even Kindergarten kids can tell when you have about zero authority.

- Your appearance is fair game for a discussion topic among a group of kids, right as though you weren't standing there.

-I was not meant to have typical children. Truly, I have no patience for them. So much talking you guys...and they always expect answers! That's just weird.

- My girl has friends. Friends. I cannot even describe how that feels. To hear another child say "Mama, this is Diva Girl and she is my good friend, we play on the playground together!" Words I will never forget.

Life is Hard

So I've been seriously obsessed with "Life is Hard" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Take a listen:

This song. It makes me want to smile and cry, hug the next person I see, and be alone, and dance, and sit, all at the same time. This song is like truth set to music.

This is how I so often feel. As though I'm conflicted in my very being because I think life is both absolutely beautiful and unbearably hard. 

Having kids with autism = hard. Exhausting, frustrating, heartbreaking, headache inducing. It's also amazing, illuminating, beautiful, and inspiring. Nothing has pushed the boundaries of my sanity more or pushed my personal growth more. So often I fear that people see me and think that I manage to laugh and work hard and love life in spite of having three children on the spectrum. Truth is, it is because of that very fact. 

And that is just life. There is good and bad and mundane. There is good in the bad and bad in the good. And I, for one, am one mess of a human being. Right now everything feels so big to me- a new home, kids in school, the full realization that our family is done growing and that our family is special times three. And a whole lot more that I won't blog about because believe it or not there are some things I keep private. But it's all big- it's very amazing and very scary and very emotional. 

When I think about it all, my first instinct is to say that this is just a small point in time, a phase of these stressors that will come and go. But I've been saying that for a while now. "Oh, right now things are kind of crazy!" has been my motto for about four years. I think it's time to accept it- this is life. That somehow feels freeing and wonderful to just embrace that all the chaos is just simply life. 

Come celebrate- Life is hard!

Changes, changes, everywhere!

Well, hello there. Did you miss me?

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind. Let's recap:
I went out of town to a conference on 7/24
I came back on 7/28
We commenced moving into our new home on 7/29
Diva Girl's last day at the therapy center that she's attended for three and a half years on 7/31
Diva Girl and Rascal's first day at their new school on 8/1

Guys. I'm a mess.

Now, these changes are all great, grand, wonderful! It's just that they are happening all at once. But, in the end, I'm so very glad things have played out this way. Yes, it's been chaotic and it feels like I can't quite catch my breath. However, the past week has not only stretched my sanity, it's stretched my imagination.

I've never been a big dreamer. I'm practical to a fault. The conference I went to, I have attended once before, and my "practical" side kept me from enjoying it. See, I was surrounded by all of these positive, amazing women...and all I could think was "Yeah right, like I could ever be that successful. Or that happy. They are probably just faking it anyway. And even if they aren't, I don't even want to be like them. So there."

Real mature, right? The green of jealousy does not look good on me.

I ended up quitting my business not too long after that conference, convinced that I didn't have time for it and that it was probably just not for me anyway. Diva Girl was newly diagnosed, and I saw the few simple dreams I already had slipping away.

For the last few years, I've done a lot of focusing on the negative. The challenges faced, the sacrifices, the frustrations. As upbeat as I try to be, the back of my mind is always working on an unhealthy dose of anxiety and pessimism. With the diagnosis of Vlad, my inner voice took a pretty dark tone. All I could really think was- we will never have enough money, they will never have what they deserve, we will have three children who are dependent upon us forever, and poverty and depression will be my constant companions until the day I die. Yes, that was what I thought, behind smiles and the jokes.

And I am ashamed of myself.

That inner voice is bound to whisper again from time to time, but the past two weeks have changed my inner dialog drastically. This time, when I was surrounded by amazing and positive women, I found myself asking "Why not me?" I found myself realizing that I was going home to a new house that I never thought was possible. That my third child would be going to a therapy center that we have never been able to afford, but have been a part of for three and a half years. That week to week, we have people help us and reach out to us. Dreams have been fulfilled before I even knew that I should dream them.

So, why not imagine a better future? Heck, why not imagine a better now? And not just imagine it, but work towards it, sacrifice for it. Why not say "I can. They can. We can." Why not plan a vow renewal for our tenth anniversary (two years away tomorrow!) and a family trip to Disney? Why not plan on three kids going to college? It's all possible. And maybe it won't all happen the exact way I hope it to, but isn't it better to reach for the stars and make it to the clouds, than stay planted to the ground because I didn't even look up? I think it is.

So, here I am. In my new-to-us home. Working harder and dreaming bigger than I ever have before. And it feels pretty good, even if I am still a mess. Don't worry guys- there are some things that never change.

Letting Go

Eight more nights. Eight more nights of sleeping in this apartment, typing from this couch, listening to the whir of this old washing machine. I can't wait.

We will be moving into a house. A real house, no shared walls. Windows on all sides. A yard, a driveway, a fence. All the things we've never had. With the new home, we've been blessed with new (to us) furniture; couches and a dining room set among other things. 

I am terrified.

Why? Well, I'm not exactly a good housewife. I'm a pretty lousy one, at best. I have little to no idea how to decorate a home, how to make a place look....well, like anyone would want to live in it. See, we have been in survival mode for years and years now. I've never considered anyplace that we lived to be a real home. 

In case you didn't already know, this is our past home history:

-Married while in college and lived in what was essentially the "family" apartments on campus. Tiny. We furnished and decorated like college students, which is to say minimally and poorly.

-Hit rough times and moved in with my parents for almost two years.

-Spent several months basically couch surfing...essentially, we were homeless.

-Amazing friends took us in. We lived in their unfinished basement for almost a year.

-Back to the apartments at the university.

-Moved up in the world into where we live now- a two bedroom apartment. Furnished with whatever free furniture acquired over the years.

So, for a while, we've just been happy to have a safe place to lay our heads. We've never had enough room for all of our stuff. We've always had more kids than our space could reasonably hold. And these kids come with so much...so many therapist recommended toys and therapy related tools. Add in our addiction to books and my business products, and we are bursting at the seams. So somewhere along the way, I gave up. The mess always won, so why really fight it? Yeah, I sweep the floors (that I can see) and wipe the counters (some days), but overall I just kind of manage the mess, not conquer it. 

*Sorry Mom, I know this must be killing you to read*

I've known for a while that I have a problem with possessions. It goes hand in hand with my obsession with money. Almost everything I own was given to me. When you are poor and everyone knows it, people tend to give you things. And trust me, I am grateful. But, here lies my problem: It doesn't matter that I don't like jeans with holes in them- they fit me and someone gave them to me for free and I can't afford to go shopping. So, I end up with a closet bursting with clothes that I, at best, like okay, and at worst, don't hate too much. But I can't get rid of anything because I can't afford to replace it if I ever miss it! Go through this same mental song and dance with kitchen wares, kid toys, books, and just about any other item you might find in your home. I've had a tight grip on all of this stuff because I might need it. Or, sometimes, I held on because it fit some expectation I had. As though by possessing a certain toy, my children would show some new magical interest in imaginary play, or by owning an array of cookbooks, I would become a competent cook. 

So, I'm letting go. I'm shedding the drawers full of clothes that only "kind of" fit me. (As an aside: Prepare to see me wearing the same outfits. A lot.) I'm lugging away bins of toys that came highly recommended but have only been chewed up, lined up, or thrown. And the impractical items held onto for some imaginary future need? Gone. 

I feel lighter already.

I'm ready to step into a new home and not immediately clutter up the kitchen counters and dining room table. I'm ready to find a place for every thing. I'm ready to have a home I'm proud of. And bit by bit, I want to work towards replacing things that I loathe but hold on to out of necessity, like our not even close to full set of dishes or our threadbare sheets. I'm ready for my home to not be a place that so obviously stresses out my children and myself. I want to create a haven for our anxiety ridden spectrum family.

I know this won't solve all my homemaking problems. I still will be seriously lacking in practical storage. I still have zero home decorating skills (and a zero budget to decorate on.) And I still have three messy children that always come with plenty of stuff. But this is a start, a step in the right direction.

Goodbye stuff. I won't miss you.

Ordinary Moments Turned Into Beauty

I've been quiet here for about a week. Why is that? Because I'm terrified.

I had one crazy stalker person. I had one post that got a bit of attention. And that is scary, because in the world of autism blogging, attention is a double edged sword. It seems that no one can escape being raked over the coals for one thing or another. I've been honest enough in my blogging, honest enough in my struggles, that the idea of people looking over this with a critical eye makes me feel a bit sick. I've seen it happen to others, been watching it play out in the blogosphere all day.

I'm not sure I have the stomach for that.

You see, I'm not the kind of blogger that writes all about how my life with kids on the spectrum is sunshine and rainbows. I don't present Autism as a gift given to my children to make them extra awesome (they got their extra awesome in various ways, obviously.) There are times I indulge in a bit of self pity, and there are times I indulge in a lot of humor. I write from my heart, and my heart isn't always pretty. Life isn't always pretty.

I'm okay with that.

If everything was beautiful all of the time, would it be possible to truly appreciate beauty? It seems so often that it's the difficulty in life, the strife, that pushes the ordinary to be exquisite. And as I make our struggle  public, I attempt to make our joy public as well, and pray that it is all the sweeter for it. That's what I've been reminded of tonight.

Tonight, Rascal handed me a toy. He handed me a princess phone and hopped up and down, grinning ear to ear, looking me right in the eyes. And that's when it hit me. He was inviting me to play.

I put that phone to my ear and said "Hello? You want to talk to Rascal? Oh, okay, here he is!" And I handed him the phone. Rascal stopped hopping long enough to hold the phone up to his ear and answer "Hello?" He grinned at me again, and handed back the phone, and we went back and forth for a minute before he ran off. No big deal, right?

Wrong. So very, very wrong. This was beauty.

This was the first time my child truly invited me into his play world. The first time I was handed something without being reduced to a mere fixer or fetcher. It took me a second to even recognize that he wasn't handing it to me for me to turn it on or off or change it in any way. He wasn't handing it to me so that I would get him something. He gave me a toy so that I could play with him. With him. The moment I realized that, tears came to my eyes and I was in absolute awe.

It was an ordinary moment. Children do this all the time, every day all day. Children much younger than he is. Mothers all over the world take it for granted. And for us, it was a moment I will never forget, a bloom of beauty at the end of a hard day. Perfection.

You know what's even better? Half an hour later, he handed me Buzz Lightyear. My heart, it overflows. I'm crying with pure joy as I write this. Some of you reading this will understand. You've had these ordinary moments that were far from ordinary.

So yeah, I'll fess up to all the moments of feeling sad and alone and overwhelmed. I will talk about the lows, the ways that autism affects my marriage, the moments that I lose my cool. And then I will sing from the rooftops the highs, the moments that people step up and help out, the moments that I get to brag on my kids. I don't think I'd trade such high highs for anything. Not a darn thing.

And this kid? My little playmate? He's a Rascal.

It's About Them

In case I've given you the wrong impression about how highly others think of me, I want to clarify my last post (Read: The Help)

It isn't about me. People don't do all this fabulous stuff for my family because I am awesome (though, on a good day, I totally am.) They do it because they love my kids. Because my kids are completely and entirely lovable. And hugable. And adorable. I mean....

That is some serious cute. People volunteer to take the kids for an afternoon because, for the most part, my kids are a delight to be around. They are bright, affectionate children. They challenge everyone they are around, they inspire people to be a better version of themselves. My friends love getting to marvel at their growth and getting to witness their progress firsthand. So yeah, people want to feed them and care for them and help me be a good mom to them. It's instinct to want to take care of those you love.

Me? I'm nothing special. But them? Oh, they are special, so very special. In more ways than you could possibly believe.

Finding Balance

I've been a bit heavy on the Vlad focus lately, but I doubt anyone could blame me. I mean, even if it is our third time on this roller coaster, each experience has been different. So yes, I've been fairly focused on him both in what I've written online and what I talk about in person.

Now? I think it's time to find some balance.

Am I still going through the emotional process of accepting the diagnosis? Absolutely. There is no rushing these things. But it's time to take a step forward and focus on the health of my family as a whole.

And boy, there has been a whole lot of life going on that I've failed to mention.

For instance, Diva Girl has been making huge strides recently. We've known for a while that she can read, but it's almost impossible to determine just how much she can read and how much she comprehends. There is one very enthusiastic therapist in her life right now that really felt that there is much more going on than we could see in regard to reading, and he has been pushing for us to keep challenging her in this area. So, we set some new goals. This week, at her therapy center, they pulled up the keyboard on Proloquo2Go and asked her to spell a word. And she did. So they asked her to spell another word. And another. And another.....
She can peck out words. Whoa. Then they handed her a worksheet with directions written at the top. Instead of telling her what to do, as they normally would, they just let her look at it. The directions told her to use the color brown. So she looked at her crayons, picked out the brown, and got to work. She. Read. The Directions. She didn't just read it, she comprehended it.

I want everyone to pause with me for a moment. Let this sink in. Let the possibilities sink in to your brain and understand why I am so excited that I'm practically doing the happy flappy dance myself! If we keep down this path, Diva Girl can open up a whole world of communication. Her inability to access speech doesn't have to keep her silent. For maybe the first time, I am looking towards her going to school and am actually excited, because she may be able to participate in a way that I wasn't sure was possible. All this time we've known, we've been so sure, that this little girl has a brilliant mind. That those stinking test scores don't even come close to measuring the capabilities of our Diva (read: More Than a Number.) Don't let her body language fool you folks, this girl is listening and soaking it all in. She is reading for goodness sakes! Just because she isn't looking into your eyes, doesn't mean she isn't hearing and learning and storing it away in that world within her head.

I wish I could visit that world. For even one minute. I bet it's beautiful.


And Rascal? Well....he's been a Rascal, I can't lie. His toddlerhood is testing his boundaries and testing my patience. But even then, I see sparks of understanding and learning that are fresh and new. Tonight, we played together. Went over to the play kitchen and made a pretend meal and ate a pretend dinner together. Sure, I started it and kept it going, but he joined right in. He was interested and was enjoying playing with me. I wasn't "working" with him or wrestling with him....we played. I'm not sure we've ever truly done that before, not like this. Not with such a bright smile on his face, and a willingness to participate, and an understanding of what I was pretending. Again, I look into his eyes and I see so much behind them. A depth of understanding, a spark of liveliness that shows me that no matter what life throws his way...he's going to be okay. He's a fighter, that kid. And I don't just mean that recent love of tackling people (and why, oh why does he tend to tackle any pretty girl he meets??) I mean that he is tough enough to overcome the difficulties of autism and let the blessings of autism shine through. Yes, that's right, blessings of autism. They are there, folks.

As I refocus on my whole family, I'm liking what I'm seeing. I'm reminded of why I am jumping through the hoops of early intervention for Vlad- because I've seen its results in Diva Girl and Rascal. I'm also reminded that the therapy isn't the be-all-end-all. I made plenty of mistakes in Diva Girl's early days, and she is doing just fine thankyouverymuch. It's about balance. Between the therapy time and the play time. Between one kid and the other. Between the kids and The Husband. It's all a balancing act. Now, let's see just how coordinated I am.

More than a Number

I've been sitting on this post for a few days. Letting it marinade a little bit. Had to change it up a bit, but she's pretty enough to share now.

A few weeks ago, Diva Girl and Rascal had evaluations. Rascal gets a free eval as part of being a guinea pig for research (it's a study on siblings of children with autism, and it has been a wonderful experience!) For Diva Girl, the same team just flat out offered to do out of sheer curiosity, having never evaluated a child with Childhood Disintegrative Disorder. We figured it was worth it, seeing as she hadn't been evaluated in three years. Plus, her diagnosis is about to be absorbed into regular ol Autism, and we didn't want to be left with a diagnosis that doesn't exist- who knows what kind of issues could pop up because of that. 

So, I took her in. Watched her from my side of the two sided mirror. Saw her largely ignore her evaluators, except to try to force them to sit under the table with her. Laughed at how she was clearly running the show, refusing to cooperate but wanting to play HER way. Answered lots of questions about her development. 

I walked out feeling drained and dreading the results. I know that what I saw as funny and charming does not translate so well into a measure of her IQ. I know that her refusal to cooperate and talk means that her language scores would be horrible. But still, I did not expect what I saw in the report.

The report was brutal. Yes, they talk about how sweet and pleasant she is. Yes, they point out that the testing was probably not an accurate measurement of her capabilities. But when I saw the numbers...it felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

Diva Girl is six years and three months old. She did not test higher than 17 months in anything.  In one of the tests (they use several different ones) she came out as below the first percentile in everything. That doesn't even seem possible. I mean, the girl is potty trained! She can spell over a hundred words! She is wicked smart! But that's not how these tests work, I know. They take that 2 hour snapshot and determine where she is lacking and then blow up those problems until they are all you can see.

Yes, I cried. My heart broke a little.

But I know the truth. She's more than a number. She's more than the words in a psychological report. She's my Diva Girl....with a big smile, a big heart, and a penchant for acting like a cat.

I can't help what the numbers say. And I can't stop people from looking at my little girl and only seeing her "faults". But I will do everything in my power to let her shine, so the world can see that she's so much more. And you'd better believe that during next weeks IEP meeting, if they try to act like those numbers are the entirety of her abilities, I will show them that they have another thing coming to them. Mostly, she will show them.

She'll blow them all away.