Worthy

 

Mama and baby, summer 2007

My favorite animal is the cat.  Just your ordinary housecat.  We had several as pets as I grew up, ones that were acquired as kittens and grew up before my eyes.  Ones with silky soft fur and loud, rolling purrs.  It wasn't just because they were sleek and easy to care for.  I love the independence of cats.  I love that they don't give their affection to just anyone (you know, not like those gross drooling dogs).  You have to prove yourself to a cat.  You have to be calm, be kind, and then you have to wait for them to come to you.  I remember the cat that jumped from my sister's arms as soon as she brought it in the house and streaked down the hall to my room, where it cowered under my bed for three days.  Three DAYS.  It might have snuck out to use the litter box or get some food while we weren't home, but whenever we walked back in, there it was, hissing and spitting just out of reach.  After the first day, we stopped trying to coax it out.  It might have been out of compassion, or just frustration.  Either way, we let it be.  And, after three days, it did.  It had decided that we were okay people (probably after we stopped crawling towards it in that dark, close space, and calling for it to come out).  And what happens once you've earned a cat's love?  All over you.  On your lap.  In your bed.  Its not as easy to notice how close cats stay, because they are quiet, and also because they have this way of seeming as though you've both just walked into the same room by coincidence.  Oh, were you coming to the living room too?  Sitting on the couch?  Me too, the cat seems to say.  Isn't that funny?  Well, we may as well sit together.  No sense pretending we don't know each other.  And if you could just scratch riiiight there...you know the spot I like.

Duck Hunt 2009

And, not to trivialize or disrespect anyone, but autism can be like that.  My son reminds me of the cats that I loved to cuddle but had to give up when I started dating my husband (he's allergic).  He doesn't have that loud, sloppy, friend-to-anyone doglike tendency that some kids display.  In a new setting, an unknown house for example, he's more likely to do the human equivalent of hiding under a bed for three days.  He will never willingly become the center of attention, he lets his little brothers handle that.  The way a cat will survey the perimeter, keeping its distance...that's how he acts around people he doesn't know.  He won't answer your questions, no matter how loudly you pose them.  He may, in fact, shy away from those who persist in their queries, for some reason raising their voices in response to his lack of eye contact and "refusal" to answer.  Its not because he doesn't understand, or because he doesn't like you.  He's keeping his distance until you prove yourself.  And I'm waiting for you to show your true colors too.

This is one of those aspects of special needs parenting that can either be a positive or a negative...it all depends on how we see it.  For me, using my child as a barometer for the worthiness of our relationships is a good thing.  It saves so much time.  It weeds out the half-hearted and self-centered.  What is left is a smaller number, but it is powerful.  It is a group of warriors.  People who care SO MUCH that they don't let hand flapping or perseveration keep them away from us.  People who drop down to his level to say hi, who let it go if he doesn't respond in kind, who break into huge smiles when he does.  People who join in the hunt for discarded shoes and scarves when its time to go, who help with trips to the bathroom when our hands are full.  People who say, "Come on over!" or better yet, "Drop them off!" and we can say okay.  Because we know their worth.

Brother love after the first day of kindergarten, August 2012

What kind of Vert are you?

I had the immense privilege this past weekend to go out of town with a group of ladies who amaze and fascinate me, and perhaps the most amazing part is to realize that I am one of them, that there is a place for me in their group (there's a place here for you, come with us next time!).  As our time together was winding down, I was like an electric charge of energy, despite the very short night of sleep and the assured chaos waiting for me at home.  I thought, I must blog about this experience.  I need to write out what this weekend was for me in order to process how much I loved it (and also to answer my husband's barrage of questions without having to actually talk).  But once I sat before the computer, my brain refused to cooperate.  There was too much, I was exhausted, and it just wasn't going to happen that night.  So I hoped inspiration would come to me this week as I ease back into my every day routine.  And this is the first part that I can properly relay here.

After a day of conversations (how easy it is to talk to each of you...I loved how our words weaved in and out, how we could have one large conversation or 3 smaller ones, how it was more than just noise, but love and encouragement and laughter bringing us together), we ended the day at The Melting Pot for chocolate fondue, coffee, and even more talking.  Then came the question:  Are you an introvert or an extrovert?  Each woman spoke, gave her reasons and examples.  I considered not speaking up, because I was right in Mandy's eyeline, and I just knew that she would disagree with my answer.  Sure enough, when I said, "I'm an introvert," she responded, "What makes you think that?"  Well, dear Mandy, only my lifetime of experience being me.  HA!  But then I thought about it.  Is it possible to change from one to the other?  After spending decades as an introvert, could I have turned into an extrovert?

I am an introvert.  As a child, I lived in my imagination.  My parents love to tell stories about how Rachel could sit in a corner with a dish towel and a stick and entertain herself for hours, making characters and telling stories.  I have always had a small group of close friends, one or two "best friends", and everyone else intimidated me.  I was quiet anywhere public, terrified to talk to new people, completely mute the day a sub showed up to teach my first grade class.  But in private, with my friends or family, the people who knew me best, I was a ham.  I cracked jokes and my voice became loud and I could "be myself".  When I was 12, I found Melissa, my very best friend, and realized something magical had happened.  Because no matter how many strangers or new people I found myself with, as long as Melissa was by my side, I had the courage to be myself, in all of its loud, sarcastic glory.  When we went to separate colleges, I floundered, completely isolated and not knowing how to make a friend without Melissa there.  That was the year I started dating a boy who became the man I married.  And the magic continued.  Because Chris became, not just a crush or a love interest, but a friend.  Over the years, he has become my partner, my other half, and slowly, I have been able to pull back the curtains on my inner self.  And because of this unveiling, I am, for the first time, completely myself, comfortable with who I am and able to be that all the time, not just in certain approved locations, with an exclusive list of people.  I can meet someone new and say "Here I am, this is me!" and be content for them to take it or leave it.  As a mom, I've been forced to push the limits of my own comfort, with children who need an advocate and a spokesperson, being quiet and avoiding new people is just not an option.  Does that mean that I'm an extrovert?  I'm not sure.  I still need some time to myself.  I often escape to my room when my husband gets home and take some much needed alone time, a chance to regroup, be still, have no little hands grabbing at me.

 But I think there's something to Mandy's questioning.  I have moved out of my hiding hole at the extreme end of the introvert spectrum.  It comes from embracing what's inside, and sharing that with a man who welcomes the revelation.  It comes from rising to the role of Mama Bear, being the advance guard for my cubs.  And it comes from a comfort and love that are bigger than all of us, knowing that I am loved by my Creator, that I am living a life that was made just for me.