growing up Archives - Page 2 of 15

Sep 24, 2012

Birthday Weekend Extravaganza

I probably should have written a post on Friday, but I was still too in shock over the realization that I was now the mother of an eight year old. Cordy’s birthday was Friday and I spent the early morning just staring at her and wondering where all of the time went.

You mean she’s not a baby anymore?

Eight feels so much more grown up than seven. She’s crossing that threshold into big kid now (I can’t even think of the word tween yet) which is both exciting and frightening. Cordy gained so many new skills in the past year and pushes for more independence, but at the same time she’s still so very innocent and unsure of the world.

We didn’t have an official party for her this year. She doesn’t really like parties. Besides, we had a big reunion of friends to attend on Saturday – including several kids she’s friends with – so we were happy to combine occasions and just bring a cake with us to the gathering. Then on Sunday we had family visiting, so Cordy had the chance to celebrate her birthday with them, too.

Instead of one day of celebrating, it turned into a weekend-long birthday extravaganza.

On Friday, after she received a few presents from us, we took her out to dinner at her favorite restaurant with her uncle and aunt. As we sat down and the server handed us menus, Cordy got her attention and brightly exclaimed, “Hi, it’s my birthday today, but please don’t sing to me!” She has never liked people singing to her – it’s a sensory issue she’s had since she was young. Singing to her usually results in her hiding under a table for awhile.

Thankfully, the server understood, and when the meal was done she quietly slipped Cordy a hot fudge sundae and a balloon with no crowd of servers to sing at her. And so dinner ended with everyone happy and Cordy still in her seat and not under the table.

On Saturday we made the drive up to northern Ohio to spend the day with friends. The house we go to is just outside of a small town, with lots of backyard to run and play in. What started as a semi-warm, sunny day quickly turned into rain for over an hour. After it stopped, the kids quickly ran outside again, ignoring the drop in temperature. (How do their small bodies keep from freezing?) It wasn’t long before we were all being ordered by the kids to come outside and see the amazing sky.

The kids were right:

You could see both ends of the rainbow.

Completely unedited photos shot with my iPhone.

As we marveled at the most beautiful rainbow I’ve ever seen, Cordy ran to me and said, “Look, mommy! The sky gave me a rainbow for my birthday! That’s such a nice gift!” She was right, it was a lovely gift.

On Sunday the festivities continued. Aaron took Cordy and Mira to Chuck E Cheese for an early lunch (another request from Cordy) while I straightened up the house. They came home just as family arrived to spend time with Cordy, and different family members cycled through as the day went on.

As much as she wanted her birthday to last forever, Cordy was also showing signs of overload by mid-day. She spent much of the late afternoon in the dining room working in one of her new workbooks while everyone else was in the living room, and later went to her room to be alone for a bit. I was able to coax her back down before dinner, though.

By 8:30pm, the house was finally quiet again. And I was exhausted. I’m still exhausted. It was great to see friends and family this weekend, but I’m looking forward to spending much of the next few days working by myself.

But Cordy had a great birthday, and that’s what matters the most. Happy birthday to the warrior princess!

Filed Under: Autism, Cordy, family time, growing up, memories ·

Sep 14, 2012

Shark Girl Loses A Tooth

By Christina ·

I lost my first tooth when I was five years old. Cordy lost her first tooth at five years old, too. So when Mira turned five, I waited to see when her first baby tooth would start to wiggle.

Mira’s excitement at the idea of losing her first tooth has remained high, too. There are many days when she sticks her finger in her mouth, wiggles it back and forth, and shouts, “Mommy! I have a loose tooth!” Of course, every time I’ve checked, not a single tooth has wiggled, even a little bit. (But I usually agreed with her that it did wiggle a little. Can’t crush her hopes.)

It’s been a few weeks since she mentioned loose teeth, and we’ve been too busy for me to think about it. Last weekend, though, she gave me a wide smile as she worked on making a necklace at a community event, and suddenly my gaze was fixed on her teeth.

I thought I saw a little gap between her itty-bitty teeth. “Mira, did you lose a tooth?” I asked her. Her eyes were instantly huge. She gave me the biggest closed-mouth smile she could, and I noticed there was a bit of a gap on either side of one tooth, but not enough for another tooth to be missing.

“Oh, I guess not,” I sighed. “You’ve got a little bit of space around one of your teeth, though. Maybe it’s wiggly?”

It was then that Mira opened her mouth wide to wiggle her tooth and I saw the reason for the space around that tooth: her adult tooth was already coming in, right behind it.

That would be a very impatient adult tooth right behind her lower baby teeth.

I help this kid nearly every day with brushing her teeth. How could I miss another tooth already coming in? Especially one that’s already made it that far and is the size of two baby teeth?

So after we made all of the Shark Girl jokes (because really? You MUST make shark girl jokes when your child is starting to grow a second row of teeth), it was time to get to work on removing that baby tooth. After all, that big tooth needs room to get in there – behind all of the other teeth isn’t a very useful place to be.

It was very loose, and I told Mira if she could just wiggle it endlessly it would probably fall out that day or the next. So she set to work on it, but after a while it hurt and she stopped. I reassured her it would probably fall out the next day. She was a ball of excitement at the thought of losing her first tooth and getting her first visit from the tooth fairy.

That tooth hung on the next day, though. And the day after. She requested apples to eat, brushed it extra-thoroughly, and did everything she could to get it out without actually pulling it out. By last night it couldn’t even stay in line with the other teeth, but wouldn’t come out, either.

During storytime, I asked her if she wanted me to pull it out. She agreed, and I gave it a few tries. Tiny teeth are hard to hold onto with big fingers, though, and I had no luck. “Mommy, I want it out for school pictures tomorrow!” she insisted.

I had to say goodnight to Cordy, so I told Mira she was welcome to keep trying. As I went into the next room and gave Cordy a hug goodnight, I heard Mira yell, “I did it! Mommy, I pulled the tooth out!”

Sure enough, she did. Just in time for school picture day.

We wrapped the tooth in a tissue and placed it in the pouch for the tooth fairy. She woke up this morning and found two dollars in the pouch from the tooth fairy, clipped with two sparkly hair clips for her to wear for picture day.

She assures me this wasn’t her picture day smile.

Now I can’t decide what to do with the tooth. I’ve kept a couple of Cordy’s teeth, but do I really want to keep collecting teeth? Not to mention, this tooth and I have a bad history going way back to when she was four months old. I have some painful memories from that tooth, and it nearly made me give up breastfeeding when she was a baby.

I’m not going to miss it at all. Although I might mourn her cute, straight-teeth smile as I open the savings fund for her future orthodontics.

Filed Under: growing up, Mira ·

Jul 24, 2012

Sally Ride: Aiming For The Stars

By Christina ·

I was shocked to hear about the death of Sally Ride yesterday. Her name had been absent from the news for years (mostly of her own choosing), so we were all unaware she was battling cancer, but there was never a moment of “who?” when her death was announced. I’d guess most women my age recognized the name immediately, without the need to explain who she was. For me, I felt a small part of my childhood quietly pass on as I processed the news. Sally Ride. 61 years old. Gone.

In the early 80’s, space shuttle launches were a big deal. Our elementary school would file into the school library, packed in tight rows around the single A/V cart with the heavy TV perched on top, just to watch a space shuttle launch. It was a magical sight to watch the rockets fire and carry that black and white glider into space.

Seeing the first grainy photos and video of Sally Ride in space sent a message to girls everywhere that times were changing. We really could be ANYTHING we wanted to be. The space program was one of the most prominent achievements of science and engineering, and here was a woman proving that she could be a pioneer in that field just as well as any man.

This little girl saw Sally Ride and dreamed for the stars. She was my hero. In a time when girls still weren’t expected to do as well as boys in science, she inspired me to keep learning and exploring. Math and science were my best subjects, and knowing that they could possibly lead me to be an astronaut one day only strengthened my efforts. I wanted to be like Sally.

Even when the Challenger exploded, I remained committed. Sally was there in front of the media, reminding us that all progress carries risk, and while we mourned the loss of the Challenger crew we couldn’t let the tragedy keep us from moving forward. We were stronger than our fear and wouldn’t let their loss be for nothing. We would continue on.

It was because of Sally Ride that I went to Space Camp in seventh grade. (Well, Space Academy since I was too old for Space Camp by that point.) There were still a greater percentage of boys than girls at the Huntsville, Alabama facility, but there were girls. Girls who also saw Sally Ride become the first woman in space and were inspired to follow their own dreams of sitting in a space shuttle. It’s unlikely that many went on to become astronauts, but how many would then pursue careers in science, technology, engineering, or math? I’m betting Sally’s influence led to a huge increase for women in these fields.

And while I never did become an astronaut, Sally Ride inspired a love of science for me and helped me believe I could do anything I put my mind to. I never felt limited by my gender when it came to career choices. I could aim for the stars.

I still have a love for science, and I pulled both of my daughters close to me while watching a shuttle launch (oh, I hope they will remember!), full of emotion as I told them that they could someday see the world far below them like the astronauts do. Nothing is out of their reach if they have the desire to go after it.

Rest in peace, Sally. You were my hero and I hope your legacy will continue to inspire other girls to aim for the stars.

Filed Under: growing up, me me me, memories ·

Jun 21, 2012

So This Is 36

By Christina ·

When my mom was 36 (and happy birthday yesterday, mom!), I was 14 and considered her to be old. Not old-old like my grandmother, but just old. She wore high-waist jeans and worn out t-shirts all the time, she had no clue as to what was currently on-trend, she listened to “oldies” music, she was constantly weary from working long hours, and she was already showing grey hairs and a few lines around her eyes.

And it terrified me.

My greatest fear as a teen was growing old. Granted, I didn’t like the body I already had, but I felt like after 30 it would just be one depressing downhill slide as the body fell apart and the mind lost it’s ability to grow and change. I sometimes wondered if I’d even live much past 30, or if I’d find a way to go out in a blaze of glory and end everything on a high note before I had to endure watching it all break down around me.

I was a stupid teenager.

Today I’m 36, and obviously I don’t feel the same way I did at 14. Age has provided perspective, and I see how some of my earlier thoughts came from the anxieties and understanding of a teenager.

Today I am no longer wishing for a short, glorious life. Oh, I still have all of my anxieties of growing older as the grey hairs have taken over in the past year and I watch the fine lines deepen around my eyes, but I’d much rather face those changes than the alternative. Not only because I want to live to be an old lady, but also because I now have children of my own. These two girls need me, and I need them. I’ll probably need them long after they think they still need me.

Today I’m in the best shape of my life. I weigh now what I did at 14 (and haven’t weighed that since I was 14) and I’m learning to love the body I have. Sure, it is starting the process of falling apart that frightened me so much as a teen, but rather than fear it I’m fighting it. Oh no, body, you’re not allowed to slow down on me now – we’ve got a long way to go.

Today I find myself happier than I have been in a long, long time. I love my family, quirks and all. It’s taken years and several jobs, but I’m genuinely happy with the work I’m doing now. As much as losing my job back in March sucked, it was a catalyst to bring a whole lot of awesome into my life. Funny how those little details work themselves out, isn’t it? Things aren’t perfect in my life by any means – our financial situation is still shaky due to Aaron’s job, we want to move from our current house but can’t, and they have yet to invent calorie-free Nutella – but the stuff that really matters is solid.

Today I’m content to know that I’ll never please everyone, so I’ll just worry about myself and the opinions of those I care about. I don’t have to follow trends, but if I happen to like a trend I can flaunt the hell out of it. Or I can flaunt the hell out of something untrendy. It’s whatever I like.

Today I’m discovering I still don’t know that much about who I am, but it’s time to find out.

Today I’m still fighting inner demons, but I finally feel like I’m on the winning side. They have their minor victories some days, but overall I’ve got this.

Today I realize that my mom was truly comfortable in her own skin at 36, just like she was at 26 and still is now. She worked hard to provide for me, and pushed through that weariness to reach the goals she had set for me and herself. She didn’t over-analyze everything. She knew what she liked, and she knew what needed to be done. And now that she’s retired, she’s continuing to pursue her goals and be exactly the person she wants to be.

Today I know now that my mom was and is far more self-aware than many people I know, and I only wish I could have that same self-awareness and self-confidence that she did at 36.

Today, I’m thankful that I still have another 364 days of being 36 to make that wish come true.

…and that old lady reading glasses can now be snazzy.

Filed Under: growing up, me me me, memories ·

Jun 1, 2012

End of School Emotional Boogaloo

By Christina ·

Yesterday was the last day of school for our district, and OH what a day it was. I was a flood of mixed emotions: happy that my kids were moving up in grades, distressed at what to do with them until summer camp begins, sad that we’d be leaving behind some fantastic teachers, proud of how well both girls have done this year, and seriously wishing for it all to be over because the last week of school awards and assemblies and lunches and teacher gifts to buy has me giving up a lot of sleep to fit everything in.

As I mentioned earlier in the week, Cordy tried out for the talent show. I received an email from her teacher last week asking if it was OK for Cordy to participate in the talent show by reciting a poem, and I immediately responded to ask her if she maybe had the wrong child? My daughter? Up in front of people to perform, knowing there was applause at the end? No way she’d go for a sensory experience like that. But she reassured me that it was Cordy’s idea and that they’d send her up with a group so that if she backed out it wouldn’t be embarrassing for her.

So yesterday I spent two hours in a hot gym, watching all of the talents of her elementary school. Let’s just say Adele was a very popular choice for singing this year. Finally, Cordy stepped up to the microphone. I held my breath, worried she wouldn’t go through with it. But she did. And she took a bow at the end and didn’t freak out when people clapped.

(Sorry for the tiny video. Figures I’d pick the wrong side to stand on.)

I was so proud of her. Cordy has come a long way from the preschooler who wasn’t allowed in school assemblies because she would have violent meltdowns from the noise. She now sits through them with her class, claps (and covers her ears when it’s too loud), and marches up to the stage to recite poems. I have no words except…wow.

To further cap off the year, we received her first grade standardized test scores, and the results were outstanding. They fully expect her to be a part of the gifted & talented program in fourth and fifth grades.

Smarty pants

And I also couldn’t walk through her school’s hallway without staff members stopping me to tell me some funny encounter they’ve had with Cordy. A teacher saw her in the hallway one day and told her, “You’re very Cordylicious today!” to which Cordy quickly grinned and responded, “And you look fashiontastic!”

After a lunch on the lawn, we then had to leave Cordy’s school to pick up Mira from preschool. Mira has attended a special-needs preschool for the past two years to get speech therapy for her speech apraxia. (Mira really has no issues other than her speech and some clumsiness.)

Her teacher and aide are the same ones that were with Cordy for her two years of preschool – we made sure to request them when Mira qualified for services. They’ve known Mira since she was four months old, when I started bringing Cordy to preschool each day and would occasionally volunteer with Mira in tow.

Picking up Mira was terribly bittersweet. Her teacher and aide have been a part of our lives for nearly five years, and were absolutely a large part of helping both of our daughters become the girls they are now. When Cordy first came to them, we were uncertain about her future, but after two years she was a different child who demonstrated a fantastic ability to learn and a lot more patience and tolerance of things around her. They were so awesome with her, and in teaching us how to better help her.

Mira didn’t need as much support, obviously. Her teacher considers Mira to be a “typical peer” since other than speech her development has been fairly standard. Still, Mira’s speech now compared to at the beginning is, well, intelligible. She’s understood most of the time now. The greatest hurdle was getting Mira to participate in practicing words, something her teacher figured out how to do. She saw through the crocodile tears and forced Mira to put in effort to improve.

Knowing we weren’t going to see them after yesterday was sad. Mira will likely be attending Cordy’s school next year so yesterday was it. (Oh, did I forget to mention the principal was helping us with Mira getting placed at Cordy’s school and it looks likely now? Also? YAY!) We gave the teacher and aide cards and some photos of the girls to remember them. They asked if we had plans to have any more kids soon, haha. I said we had no plans at the moment, but if we did we’ll be sure to send them to her, even if just as typical peer students.

I then had to get out of there before I broke down in tears. So we took one last photo of Cordy, Mira, and the two women who had such an influence on both of them.