LOVE

REALLY starting to feel like I have a farm girl on my hands! Violet and Ruby

"come back here, chicken!"

I'm kind of realizing there is a new level of pain headed my way.

The diagnosis of Violet's autism was devastating.

The slow dawning of all of the things your girl May Not Be was/is heart-wrenching.

Beginning a new path of therapies, IEPs, picture boards, and a whole slew of new languages we must learn to speak is indescribably daunting.

All of those things made my heart hurt like no other pain.

 

Still, we get through it all. We accept it. I mean, was there another option?

Every so often a get a little glimpse of what's in store for us, though. I fear it will dwarf the initial hurts.

The other day I brought the kids over to play with their cousins for a bit- Ruby and Trevor are around the same age, and while they always love playing together, it had been an especially long time since they'd seen each other, so everyone was really excited. R & T were bouncing on their porch, waiting for us, and as we pulled in, all four started hollering to each other through the car windows. Super cute.

Violet got our of her seat first and ran up to her cousins, arms open and bellowing,

"HI RUBY! HI TREVOR!"

They both ran right past her.

They both ran straight to Oliver.

Oliver, of course, jumped out and greeted them. I looked at V's face.

{One of the biggest misconceptions about autism is the thinking that children with autism don't feel empathy or hurt. Like it might be a comfort, "well she doesn't KNOW no one's playing with her right? There is a great article on it here- the gist of it being that while autistic children may have a differing physical or emotional response to pain or sadness, it is, indeed, felt.}

She looked confused. Not hurt, exactly, but uncertain as to why everyone was hugging and jumping without her.

My heart cracked.

I called over to Ruby, "Hey Ruby, come say hi to Violet!" Of course, she did, and of course V gave her a big hug and said, "We both wearing dresses! You wear pink and I wear blue!". And of course, Ruby, age 3 doesn't know that this is a

miniature miracle

disguised as small talk. So, I say, too happy and too loud,

"YES, sweetie!! Your dress is blue and Ruby's is pink!!!!!"

Violet, my resilient, sweet girl, moves quickly past the slight and carries on with the playdate. She's not the easiest buddy though, I know. While she's good at pretend, she usually insists on being an animal, rather than "mommy" or "princess"; she won't play with any toys making noises of a certain decibel. She's not into candy and still wets her pants now and then.

I started to think about this Diary of a Mom post I'd read recently, which made my stomach ache. Reading it, I cried for Jess's beautiful little girl, but also for the small, painful glimpse into my family's future:

here

No pat ending to this post, I still feel really jumbled about the whole thing; my role as mommy, how to help Violet and what (if anything?) to hope for or expect from others. A work in progress?