my Tatie Tot

If I blog instead of snack, that's already a positive outcome, isn't it?

I went to Bible study today, after seriously debating instead throwing a pity party for myself.  But a month or so ago, I believe I heard God tell me to stop working in the childcare during the study, and attend it.  So because I want to obey - and I didn't want to address my dump of a house - I went.  Of course I am glad I did, because I was around friends, I heard the Word of God, and Taylor really enjoyed staying consistent with her routine of Wednesday mornings at church.   I am excited about learning more about the Old Testament, as I gear mostly towards the New.   When I gear that is.

So why the pity party - yesterday Taylor and I went to see a new Dr the school system provided for a psych eval.  This is one of the pieces used by the CST (Child Study Team) to determine her eligibility to continue with special education next year.  I was very torn about what I wanted to have happen - part of me wanted him to say, "She seems fine and dandy, why are you even here?  Ok maybe she can be a bit quirky, but that's charming and the world lacks charm!  I am recommending her to be in a regular class, where I assure you she will make friends, be able to focus and learn."  The other part of me is concerned about her transitioning to a "normal" class - going from 6 children in her class this year, with a teacher, 2 aides and 3 therapists - to a class with probably around 20 and one teacher, no aide.  Would she be overwhelmed?  Would the kids think she's weird?  What if she was in the bathroom taking her sweet time as she's apt to do, and another child needed to go?  Would she flip out and the whole class would come to a standstill?  This is how the mind works when you're a mommy, much less to a special kid - the what ifs are just endless.  So why do I think about them?  Because I want her to thrive, to be liked, to be understood and not judged, to be seen for the sweet girl she is.

Anyway, after 3 hours with him (and I LOVED him) he diagnosed her with being on the autism spectrum - PDD-NOS, which means Pervasive Developmental Disorder Not Otherwise Specified.  I don't like labels and I don't really believe in them, so why did this undo me?  I asked if, like the last doctor (who I hated, saw her for 1/2 an hour and labeled her with Static Encephalopathy, Anxiety Disorder and OCD), was he labeling her with that just to receive services - because what we really thought she had - Sensory Disorder - is not covered to receive services through the school system.  He hesitated for a minute, probably because my eyes were pleading with him to say yes, and said that no, that is her diagnosis, that is what she has.  And he went on to explain why.  He even called the school while I was there because he believes strongly she needs at least another year in special ed.

The thing is, she has come SO far.  Amazingly.  And she continues to improve.  WHY does this bother me?  WHY did I toss and turn all night, worrying about her?  He was very encouraging and said that he believes she will develop friendships that are mutual, be able to attend appropriately (she was pretending she was a horse while he was telling me this), that she's very bright and will probably have a nice career and a family.  Words any mother wants to hear about their child!

My problem is this.  I get too far ahead of myself.  I've always been that way.  In college I worried I'd have trouble getting pregnant (why on earth did I worry about this then?!) - it was one of my worst fears.  Instead, both of our girls graced us with their presence quickly and unexpectedly - what a blessing to not even "try" for one month!  So I worry about my girls and their future...why do I do that when I KNOW who holds their future?  How can I claim to have a trust in God when I don't rely on Him to take care of our needs?  It's a battle in my mind and heart -- believing in God so fully and yet questioning His plans for our lives.

as I said, writing gives me perspective.  I feel better already.  Kevin thanks you, dear computer, for allowing me to vent to you, so that he gets the edited version later.

When my girls come home, I am going to hug them and listen to them tell me about their day.  I will enjoy Bailey telling me who she sat with at lunch, and what activity they did during recess.  This is what a child of 7 should be talking about, and I'm grateful she is healthy and happy today.  Taylor will tell me who smelled, who cried and how Miss Cheryl told her to stop doing something so she's mad at her - because that is her charm, and the world does need more of it.

I always wanted a daughter and I begged God for at least one - two would be better since I never had a sister and I wanted that for my children.  I am sure I would have loved them if I had boys, but girls were my lot.  Bailey is a girlie girl, and I have so enjoyed each stage so far.  She is just this beautiful, sweet child.   I have said that Taylor is everything I never knew I needed - and she really is.  So if she has a "label" of something the world thinks is negative, but it's part of this girl that I just adore with her throaty laugh, affectionate snuggles and strong loyalty, then it is.  She is amazing and if you don't know her, you're missing out.

So no more pity party, I feel downright blessed and I mean it.