This week… has been a week. In preparation—preparation, mind you—for the upcoming IEP, I have filled out 12 behavioral surveys, conducted two phone calls with therapists, and met with the school principal. Let’s not count the emails or times I’ve opened the Calm app 🤪 I do finally feel like we’re making some headway, however. Finally. 🙏🏻 This sweet child whose short edu has been plagued by pandemic and spotty Zoom therapies 🙄 and health issues and who by KINDERGARTEN has already attended 3 schools. (Because that’s what they do in this state for special ed kids.) For the FIRST TIME since she was born, this Mama is feeling like, “HEY. Let’s get these ducks in a row!!” And maybe the scraggly little ducks are trying. We’re trying. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
Anywho. Sacred conversations. They pop up sometimes. Always when you least expect it, and I got one today, sitting in my pajamas on my bed. Miss Lydia wandered in, climbed up, and sat on my lap. I stared into her eyes, half hidden by her adorable strawberry bangs, and thought, “You are worth it. This whole crazy week.”
“Comb hair??” She asked.
It is one of her very few verbal requests. Count them on two hands few. She doesn’t even say my name, but she will ask to spend time with me—just the two of us, and this is how she does it: “Comb hair?”
“Of course!!” I say immediately, knowing this. I want to snuggle with you too! Then, seeing her pause and look around in frustration, “Oh! Let me go get a brush!”
“Go get brush,” she repeats, slowly, staggeringly, but knowingly.
I freeze, halfway to the bathroom. Because this is monumental. Three words. Together. That I’ve never heard before.
“Yes. I’ll get the brush,” I repeat, in awe. And I do. Then I sit back on the bed with my girl on my lap as she lovingly combs my hair before laying her head on my shoulder for a sweet hug.
“Worth it. Forever and ever and ever worth it.” I think.
She is coming. She is growing. She will get there. We will never stop.