Kiss My Knits!

Em spreads some Christmas cheer, 2007. Her voice has deepened this year. I think she’s going to be an alto.

All the best to you and yours.

Em is chock full of Christmas spirit. She’s got her day planned out. A bath at 4 so that her hair will be dry by bedtime, then bedtime at 6. I’ve talked her back to 7 because I don’t want her to lie awake in her bed for hours on end. Tomorrow, she wants me to ring a special Christmas bell to wake her if I wake up before she does. I’d say the chances of me getting up before Christmas’s Biggest Fan are pretty slim, but I’ll see what I can do.

We used to have a Christmas bell that belonged to my grandmother, who collected bells. Em knocked it off a table this year. She was heartbroken, crying quietly to herself. I myself was very sad because it was a bell that had belonged to my grandmother, but of course you can’t get mad at a child for something like that. It was clear that she genuinely felt awful. I still have a few other bells that my grandmother had, and they’re metal. Big brass bells, that’s what I got from my grandmother! Oh, come on, she had a good sense of humor.

However, we still needed a replacement bell if we were going to ring something on Christmas morning. I had to visit five different places before I found a Christmas bell that wasn’t a jingle bell. Do NOT go out to a specialty Christmas store in December. Just don’t. It’s a madhouse.

I finally got a bisque bell at Michael’s and picked up some paint in Christmas colors. I hoped that making it extra Christmasy ourselves would ease the pain a bit. And it did. Em did a wonderful job. When I think about all the occupational therapy she’s had, and how amazingly far she’s come, I’m filled with motherly pride.

Em loves the new bell. Christmas is back on track. All is right with the world.

Em: “Do you know why Santa doesn’t come until Christmas Eve?”
Me: “No, why?”
Em: “Because sometimes Santa doesn’t wrap presents, and if he came before Christmas Eve, everybody would know what they had before Christmas.”

I have it on good authority that a certain little girl is going to get exactly what she asked for from Santa this year. She’s certainly been good.

Me: “You know what I didn’t hear after you got that M&M?”
Em: “No, what?”
Me, whispering: “Thank you.”
Em, whispering: “You’re welcome.”

An aunt asks about buying Emily a fishbowl. Specifically, this fishbowl. Fish not included.

I know next to nothing about fish and taking care of them, but Emily has occasionally expressed an interest in having a small pet frog or fish. We have a family-owned pet store specializing in fish just up the road from us, Frank and Peg’s. Their website is awful, but the store itself has been around for more than 40 years and seems to be well-run. They’ve always been patient with Em and I wandering in to look at the animals and occasionally buy something. I’m sure we could get some fishy support there.

I reckon I can ask them, and of course I’ll do some research, but I want to ask you guys too: does anyone know anything about fish? Would a bowl 6.6 x 8 x 10.1 inches be suitable for a fish, and if so, does anyone have a recommendation?

According to Em, the words that others in her class use to describe her are “bossy, smart, playful, silly, and strange.” That sounds about right. It led to a good conversation on what “bossy” means.

The words Em used to describe me are “actful(?), respectful, nice, and beautiful.” I think they really should have put “sweet” in Em’s list.

Em’s class is having a holiday party today. She volunteered to bring cupcakes. She ALWAYS volunteers to bring cupcakes. She loves them. So this morning she walked into her classroom with a big container of red, green, and white frosted cupcakes. Says my husband, “Who’s Bossy and Strange now? Huh??!!”

Tomorrow is “read and relax” day, where they’ll all wear pajamas to school. Emily is quite ready for school to be out, and it sounds like the teachers are too.

Em: Maybe after Christmas we can buy an M&M plush.
Me: Maybe, if we can find one, sure.
Em: Maybe you can make one.
Me: Sssssure. I can do that.

It’s just a stuffed circle, how hard can that be?

Then Em draws a picture. This, ladies and gentlemen, is Plaid. Apparently Plaid is an imaginary new M&M character (she loves the M&M characters, although not eating the actual candy).

Em: You can make her. She should have these lines. Her gloves and shoes can be white. Her arms and legs can be the same color as all the other M&Ms.

I have to make a plush plaid M&M. That’s going to take some thought. That’s the problem with being crafty. People – especially little people – think you can make anything.

Em’s been telling us all week that she has a winter program at school tonight. The school sent something home about it too that I didn’t look at too closely, since I thought I knew all about it already. Today I found out that the winter program is actually for fifth graders. Em’s in fourth grade, and their program will be later in the season.

Apparently Em just wanted to be in tonight’s program so badly that she was telling us (and everybody) that she was going to be in it. I finally figured it out when she wrote “FIFTH GRADE PROGRAM” in her planner and then told me she was the only fourth grader in it. I then asked her to tell me the truth, because I needed to know so I knew whether to take her up there early, was she going to be in the program? She started backtracking. “Well, it might be true. I might be in it. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll be in it.” We finally got down to the truth. You wouldn’t think a kid with autism who has trouble with language would have such a desire to be on the stage, but she really does.

She really wants to go up and watch the fifth grade program. That’ll be tricky, since we’ve got math this afternoon and homework tonight. The program is at 6:15 and she’s usually tuckered out and ready for bed by 8. However, she really, really wants to go, so if we can make the timing work, I’ll get the joy of going up and watching a bunch of 10-year-olds whom I don’t know perform “Hot Cross Buns” on the recorder.

The things we do for our children.

ETA: It wasn’t that bad. Also, they gave out raffle tickets to students. Em got hers, and put it in my pocket and didn’t want to look at it. Then when they started calling the numbers, she very dejectedly said, “I don’t want to win anything.” Then midway through they called out her number. She shot out of her chair as if she’d been fired from a gun. She walked doublespeed up the aisle to claim her prize, a yellow plastic water bottle.

Em doesn’t like uncertainty and disappointment, so she always steels herself for the worst. But secretly, inside, she always hopes for the best. That’s my girl.

Em came through her dentist appointment with flying colors. She’s a little weirded out by how odd her mouth feels from being numb, but she’s dealing with it. Her father has run off to the store to get her some soft treats to eat before he heads to work.

Meanwhile, I have brought out a DVD I had in reserve for just such an occasion. Em is curled up on the couch under a Strawberry Shortcake sheet I had as a girl, which is now old enough to qualify as “vintage.” We are watching Horton Hears a Who. That’s the original version, directed by Chuck Jones and narrated by Hans Conreid. After this, she’s requested the Grinch. Again, the original version. We’ll stick to the classics, thanks.

Want to see Horton?

Part one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtqVXo_80VA
Part two: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1iPOtJ_mbI
Part three: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-HzxOb9YSrY