You are here: Home / Archives for Family / Cordy
Dec 23, 2008

I Happily Handed Over $34.99 For This Memory

By ·

When we received an invite for a birthday party at the Columbus Zoo, I was excited at the possibility of killing four birds with one stone. (Yeah, I’m skilled like that. Two? That’s nothing.) (And those would be proverbial birds. No real birds were harmed in the writing of this post.)

Not only would we celebrate the birthday of two friends, but we’d also be there after sunset, so we could see the Wildlights display. And we’d visit the model trains – an obsession shared by both of my girls. AND we’d see Santa, if Cordy could work up the nerve this year.

We tried to see Santa last year at the zoo, and if you don’t feel like reading the recap, I can sum up: it went poorly. Even though Cordy wanted nothing more than to meet the great giver of all things present-y and peppermint-y, she couldn’t handle the reality of meeting him live.

This year she said she was ready, and promised to sit on his lap so she could get a candy cane.

Too bad we weren’t ready for the Arctic Circle to relocate to Ohio yesterday.

Walking from the parking lot to the front of the zoo was painful. Even though we had probably the closest parking spot ever, the wind was sharp and bitterly cold. In that short walk, both girls sported bright red cheeks, and I could no longer feel my fingers.

Thankfully, the party was just inside the gate. While Cordy made a jingle bell necklace and ate cake, Aaron and I considered the idea of telling her Santa was too busy to visit the zoo this year and bailing out quickly after the party.

When we walked outside again, though, the skies had darkened and the glowing light displays surrounded us. Cordy immediately wanted to visit all of the animals in the zoo and find Santa, despite a wind chill of -10F.

We took her to the train exhibit to distract the girls while we discussed our options. We could 1. Leave and risk the disappointment of one little girl prone to tantrums or 2. Risk freezing our limbs off to go to the back of the zoo where Santa waited. With a sigh we decided to risk frostbite.

I won’t give the full details of the walk to Santa, although I can affirm that statements like, “If you want to see Santa, you need to RUN, Cordy! Santa likes little girls who can keep up!” may have been uttered. A few expletives surrounding statements like “My nose hairs are frozen” and “I think the blood is freezing in my fingers” may have been overheard as well.

After what felt like a glacial eternity, we made it to Santa, and – surprise, surprise! – there was no line! Hear that, parents? If you want to avoid the wait and have Santa all to yourself, you only need visit when it’s not safe for skin to be exposed to the frigid air!

Cordy was a bundle of excitement when she saw Santa. We wound through the path to get to him and when we reached the platform, she hesitated for a moment. Here we go again, I thought. Prepare for her to run.

But she didn’t. Instead, she nervously let him lift her onto his lap. Without waiting for an introduction or the question to be asked, she blurted out, “Santa, I want a candy cane for Christmas!” He then asked her what else she wanted for Christmas, but again she only asked for a candy cane.

I then placed Mira on Santa’s other knee, and as I predicted last year, she started to cry right away. The photographer was trying to get them to look at the camera, and so Aaron and I crouched down beside each child, Aaron trying to focus Cordy’s attention, while I attempted to calm the toddler who thought she was going to be eaten by a giant white beard.

After the snapshot, Santa tried to talk with Cordy some more, but Cordy paid no attention to him and reached for a candy cane in the basket next to him. She did her duty, and now wanted her reward. As she wandered around the platform, Santa looked at me and said with a smile, “I think I’m enjoying myself talk more than she is.” I patted Cordy on the head and replied “Focus is hard for her. But trust me – she’s happy.”

We stopped by the kiosk on the way out to view our photo. I had no plans to buy a photo, but then I saw it on the screen. It’s a memory of the first time Cordy has willingly met with Santa, and only the second time ever that all four of us have been in a photo together. (Seriously, I’m usually the one behind the camera. You’d have a hard time proving we’re a family from photographic evidence alone.)

So we bought the big photo package, with multiple pictures for family members, two photo snowflake ornaments and the silly photo snowglobe. They totally made me fall for the moment of my two girls with Santa, even though Mira was upset, even though we were all in winter parkas, even thought Santa had a fake beard, even though we weren’t all looking at the camera, even though it was painfully cold.

Cordy’s willingness to accept the situation and not freak out was impressive and showed me just how fast she’s growing up. And seeing my entire family together and (relatively) happy on that computer screen brought up a warm, happy feeling in me that dulled the sharp cold for that long walk back to the car. It was worth it.

Filed Under: clearly insane, Cordy, family time, holidays, memories, Mira ·


Dec 12, 2008

Haiku Friday: Smile!

By ·
Haiku Friday
We need a Christmas
card picture, but getting both
kids to smile is hard.

This one is cute but
too bad the cat knocked the lamp
onto Mira’s head


Another try: one
isn’t smiling and one is
looking away…sigh


Let’s try again. One
still looking away, one with
mouth full of cookie


C’mon girls, smile!
Wait! Stop choking your sister
Cordy! No headlocks!

(Ya gotta click on this one to see Mira’s expression up close.)

The only time they
sit together is when they
are eating cookies

So every attempt
shows two mouths covered in fine
layers of brown crumbs

I give up. I’ll have
to rely on Picnik to
create a good pic.

I always thought it was difficult to get a good picture of Cordy for our holiday cards each year. Turns out, having two kids isn’t twice as hard – it’s about 649 times as hard. Like trying to wrangle dinosaurs through your great-grandmother’s miniature glass animal collection.

And for some reason, the only time I can get these two to sit next to each other is if there are cookies involved. If I should wipe their mouths off, the moment is gone and they won’t even stay in the same part of the room. Thank goodness for photo editing.

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What’s a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your main blog URL). DON’T sign unless you have a haiku this week. If you need help with this, please let me know.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button at the top.

REMEMBER: Do not post your link unless you have a haiku this week! I will delete any links without haiku!

Filed Under: Cordy, Haiku Fridays, holidays, Mira, sisterhood ·


Dec 9, 2008

How A Bendy Straw Nearly Made Me Cry

By ·

Sometimes in parenting, it’s the small victories that mean the most. Today we had one of those moments:


That’s Cordy, drinking with a straw. For the first time ever.

It was three years ago (she was 15 months) that we were struggling with weaning her off of a bottle while she stubbornly refused to try a sippy cup. I eventually convinced her that she could obtain liquid from a sippy cup, but her condition was that I had to hold it for her.

She held it on her own at 19 months.

For over a year now Operation: Remove Sippy Cup has been in effect, and until today it was an utter failure. She refused to drink anything unless it was in a sippy cup, and it had to be in only one brand of sippy cup, too. A brand which, incidentally, they changed the design for last year, making it impossible to buy any new cups. And she considers the redesign a different type of cup.

I don’t know if you are aware of the life span of a sippy cup, but it doesn’t last forever. Eventually it becomes worn and small bits of black mold try to form in the moist crevices after it’s 2-3 years old. Cordy’s small collection of sippy cups have been washed thousands of times, and bleached more than a few to remove any beginnings of mold. We’ve had to declare three of them complete losses when they were left behind a sofa or in the car for more than a few days and no amount of bleach would remove the mold that started growing. Which leaves us with only 5 sippy cups, and no hope of reinforcements.

So you can see why we’ve been urging her to leave the sippy behind and try something else. At school they’ve convinced her to drink from an open cup, but it has to be the size of a Dixie cup and it can only be at school. Straws have never been an option.

(I should mention at this point that Mira has been drinking from a straw since 9 months old. The resentment of having a younger sib show her up must take a few more years to develop.)

Cordy’s autism plays a small part in this. I know many kids are stubborn – this is a problem that any parent could have. But Cordy has a preternatural fear of change. The slightest shift to her schedule or the objects in her life can ruin any tranquility in our house. We have to gently push her towards change, ever so slightly, trying to maintain the balance between drawing her out beyond her fears and losing her for a time as she retreats inside her own mind.

So how did we manage this feat? The promise of ice cream. Bribes work on any kid. OK, well, bribes never worked for this before now. Hey, I don’t care how it worked.

Of course, tomorrow she may refuse to look at a straw. We’ll see. But for now I’m thrilled.

Maybe potty training will come next?

Filed Under: Autism, Cordy, growing up ·


Dec 3, 2008

One Year. 525,600 Moments of Change

By ·

Last November (2007), a note was sent home from preschool letting us know about the upcoming school picture day. Cordy had only been in school for a little over a month – placed there after making quite an impact at her developmental evaluation – and was still in the phase where she trusted no one and screamed whenever I dropped her off at school each day.

I knew Cordy didn’t like new experiences. The smallest sensory disturbance would set her off into epic meltdowns. She was fearful of bright lights, loud noises, and strange people. So when they announced picture day, I worried how she might react.

The report from her teacher that day was the story of a struggle. It took over an hour to even coax her into the darkened room with the bright flash. She had split her bottom lip that morning from a post-breakfast meltdown, leaving it slightly swollen and red. Long after the other kids flashed smiles and moved on, her teacher continued to work with her to preserve this moment.

Cordy, as she was at that point in time, was clearly displayed in the picture that resulted:


And now a year later, the new photo displays a different Cordy. A Cordy who has ever so gradually learned to cope with the sensory onslaught around her, tempered her emotions to avoid meltdowns most days, and occasionally does what is asked of her.

She still sees this world as a scary place, but she’s coming out of her own little world, ever so slowly, and reaching out to put trust in others. You can look at her face and see how these small changes over the past year have made a difference.


There’s still much work to do, but the progress so far has been impressive. I truly believe Cordy wants to free herself completely from that barrier surrounding her and keeping her from fully participating in the world around her. And our hands are firmly grasping hers, doing our best to lead her out of the fog and refusing to let go.

Filed Under: Autism, Cordy, growing up, school ·


Nov 11, 2008

After The First Time, It’s Not So Hard

By ·

It’s been just over a year since we took Cordy for a developmental screening and started the process that would provide us with words like “autism” “spectrum” and “PDD-NOS”. Going to that screening is probably one of the best things we could have done for Cordy.

So today I’ll admit I was a little nervous when we carried Mira out of the car, through the cold parking lot and into that same developmental screening.

I have absolutely no reason to think Mira has autism, and that wasn’t the purpose of the visit. Instead, it was to evaluate her speech. At nearly 18 months, Mira still can’t say one intelligible word. Well, one intelligible word that someone learning English as a second language would understand.

We’ve come to understand and translate the few mangled words she says. “Aaaiii” is “hi” or “bye” depending on the inflection. “Aaa-ooo” – a phrase which she uses regularly – is “thank you”. There is no “mama” or “dada”. There are no consonants, really. Her speech sounds like someone talking underwater. Other than those few words, everything else is just random babble.

The evaluator began with a test of social skills. Mira happily played along, while also checking out everyone else in the room. Always the socialite. The evaluator asked her to feed a baby doll with a bottle, and with only a little prompting she did so. (Oh yeah, 18 months and already well ahead of her 4 year old sister in that skill.)

Next up was the ever-popular stacking blocks skills test. Mira could stack two, but each try to get to three ended with a crashing tower. Still, for her age that wasn’t bad. She also had a good throwing arm when it came to throwing a ball, but refused to kick a ball.

Finally it was time for the speech test. We were asked several questions, and based on our answers and the evaluator’s experience with Mira, she failed that section of the test. A child this age should have a minimum of 5-10 clearly spoken words, including saying mama or dada. They asked if we wanted her hearing checked, and we agreed. She passed for her right ear, and failed for her left ear. That doesn’t indicate a long-term problem – she’s had a cold recently, and it could mean she has a little fluid in her ear. We’ll take her to the doctor to have that ear checked out.

So with her first F comes a follow-up developmental evaluation and a planning session to determine what, if anything, we will do about this. Honestly, I’m not all that worried. Mira is brilliant, filled with the guile and resourcefulness of James Bond and MacGyver combined. She’s already learned how to push or pull a chair to where she needs it to be in order to obtain things out of her reach. She may not say much yet, but she understands every word said to her. And even if she never says a word, I know she’ll still charm the world with her sly smile and expressive eyes.


It’s really true that you’re more relaxed as a parent the second time around. My second child isn’t following the traditional pattern of development. Her speech is a little delayed – eh, I’ll deal with it. I’ve been through worse.

(And it was amusing to find out that Cordy is still remembered by the screening staff that saw her over a year ago. She had that effect on people, with the screaming and the head banging and the hiding under the table. Somehow I think they’ll be telling stories about her for a long time to come. I only wish we could have brought her today so they could see how far she’s come.)

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
Filed Under: big issues, Cordy, Mira ·