Sunday In The House With Me

Trying to tell my 6 year old little daughter anything can be a losing proposition. When she was born, it was obvious she had a forceful personality. She was what Dr. Sears termed, "high needs." I carried her around in the sling pretty much the first two years of her life. would you believe she still asks to be carried in the sling? Long after she is too big and my back is too weak... Here are just a few examples of her er, perseverance.

Trying to get JBean dressed is a huge chore.I still have to walk her through it: walk her to her room, help her pick out her clothes, make sure she gets dressed and be on hand to help with the odd sleeve. She can get dressed on her own, for the most part, but seems overwhelmed by the choices available. If I narrow down those choices, none are suitable. They are too scratchy, the wrong color, the wrong fabric, not ____________ enough...it is enough to make me pull my hair out. I refuse to engage in a power struggle with her over clothes, but that doesn't stop her from trying. She is six and these struggles are more appropriate with a three year old. This is the only area that she insists she needs one-on-one help. She even brushes her teeth on her own! of course, that is what a "developmental delay" is...not always easy for me to remember that...

This last time, she told me she just wasn't going to wear clothes anymore. I explained that she couldn't go out of the house then and she just retorted: "That's fine, I will just live here for the rest of my life!" I pictured her at 30, with cats and a computer, still in the room down the hall... oh boy. By the way, we were late to church because she wouldn't get dressed.

Jbean 1 Momma O

Later, we were in the car and she was singing and counting to herself. "12, 13, 15..." and, always the homeschool momma, I gently chided: "14 comes after 13... 13, 14, 15." She just looked at me as though I had grown two heads. "I know. I like it this way." Uhm, ok? Never one to leave well enough alone, I engaged again, "Well, if you count skipping numbers no one will understand you. They count in order." She sighed, long and full of exasperation at how stupid her Momma was. "THEY don't count the way that *I do. This is the JBean way!" As if that said it all. I guess it did.

Jbean 2 Momma O

Lastly, she loves coins. Her Sunday School teacher gave her a quarter. I don't know why, it doesn't matter..that's not part of the story. The quarter fell in a crack in her carseat. Recently, after the black widow activity we have had around here, JBean has become somewhat phobic of dark, small, enclosed spaces. She didn't want to put her hand in the crack because, "there might be a black widow in there." OF course, I did my Momma Best to reassure her: "Honey, black widows don't like people or activity. There wouldn't be a black widow in the crack in your seat. They wouldn't even be in our van. It's ok. There's nothing there." From the backseat, a small voice pipes: "...Except the quarter." Well, yes except for...oh hell.

Jbean 3 Momma O

T, who says it's a good thing I can blog this, or I might take it way too seriously

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