Milestones

The end of this school year has brought about a lot of changes and has kept us busier than usual, but there are milestones that should be documented. Rachel turned 20. Not only is she not my tiny girl anymore, she isn't even a teenager. I have never had a problem with my own birthdays. I keep wondering if on some future birthday I will get up, look in the mirror, see that I'm older, and become depressed. So far I've avoided that. However, I definitely had issues with Rachel's birthday this year. I don't seem to be able to wrap my head around the fact that she's 20 years old. It didn't bother me particularly when her older brothers turned 20, but maybe that's because they weren't living at home anymore. For some reason, when I look at her, 20 just seems so old.

When I really think about it, I think part of my problem is that as she gets older the chasm between her abilities and the abilities of other people her age widens. We knew when we adopted her that this would be the case (in fact, she is able to do so much more than we thought she would be able to). I don't think I've harbored any secret dreams that she would "get better" and live a "normal" life. Also, more and more often I am having to take her places she doesn't want to go or get someone to sit with her, because there is no one here to watch her and I can't leave her alone. I knew that this would happen as well, and I think I'm mentally prepared for it.

Another milestone is that this was her last year at her high school. This last year she spent part of her time at the high school and part of the time at a transition school that specializes in helping disabled children move into adulthood. They teach them life skills, job skills that may help them find employment, and offer recreational activities. Next fall she will go there full time. Last year Rachel could have gone through the graduation ceremony, but she wouldn't have enjoyed it, so we opted to not have her attend. This year has been a bit better, and her younger brother was graduating, so we decided to at least get a cap and gown and do pictures. I took her to the practice to see what she would do. She smiled all the way through it, so I decided to let her walk. She was right in front of her brother, and I think it went well. She was a little confused, but there were people there to help her and guide her. The only real problem she had was while walking up the stairs to the exit after the actual ceremony, her shoe came off, and her brother had to pull her off to the side and help her put it back on. She apparently was vocal about the fact that she didn't like the situation. I'm not sure what she said, but her brother was grateful to turn her over to me when I connected with them. There aren't many brothers who would be willing to help her out the way he does on a daily basis. I know he has learned a lot from her and loves her completely, but he has had to make a lot of sacrifices and put up with a fair number of embarrassing and uncomfortable situations. He does it with love and quiet loyalty, and I will be forever grateful for him. Lately he's been the one who stayed home with her the most, and while I will miss the convenience of him being here with her when he leaves home, I will miss, even more, his willingness to do whatever random thing I need him to do for me, his quirky sense of humor, and most of all the quiet strength and desire to serve others that he has developed. Rachel sometimes picks on him (verbally, since he is about a foot and a half taller than she is), but I know she is going to really miss him.

This started out to be a happy, upbeat, "look what awesome things are happening at our house" post. I guess it got derailed by the slightly sad/nostalgic thought that my children are growing up. I wouldn't ever want to hinder their progress, but I miss being the most important thing in their lives, the sticky hugs and kisses, and the sleepy "I love you, Mommy" when I tuck them in bed. I look at them and I can still see the children that they were underneath the amazingly awe inspiring people they have become, and realize I wouldn't change a thing.

Dark White

Rachel has been talking a lot just lately, which has been really fun. She just randomly talks, whether anyone is in the room with her or not. Most of her conversations have centered around colors. She assigns colors to people quite frequently. Today her older brother is purple and her sister is pink. Grandpa is dark green. Today she is dark white. I'm trying to figure out what color that actually is. I don't know if that's black or grey or beige or just white that is dirty. I asked her to show me "dark white" and she smiled and said "No, it's mine." So I'm left wondering.

We were headed out the door to go to the store and she said "It's my friend's brother's uncle's cousin." I was impressed that she was able to string the words together that well, even though I'm quite certain she doesn't understand relationships well enough to do it accurately. She frequently mislabels people. Sometimes she does it accidentally because she's not sure what the word means, and sometimes it's on purpose to tease or because she's angry. She knows that some titles go with some people, but I don't think she understands why they get that title. Sometimes she understands more than she lets on, though, or at least more than she can verbally express, so who knows?

She's staring out the window with a little mischievous smile on her face. I asked her what she was doing and she said she wants cake. A dark white cake. With sprinkles.

Sometimes I wish I could see inside her head so I could understand what she is talking about.

Socks

So much has happened in our lives just recently that it'll take a bit to catch up. I think I'll start with one of the most important items. Socks. Well, at least it's the issue that's plaguing me this particular morning. Rachel has a lot of issues with socks. She's never been able to figure out the heel part of the sock, and why it's different from the rest of the sock. Consequently, the heel of her sock frequently ends up on the top or side of her foot. I don't really like to micromanage her dressing if I can help it, so unless it looks like it'll be uncomfortable I don't fix it for her. I try to buy socks that don't have a distinct heel, or are soft enough that it's not a big deal if the heel isn't in the right place. If the socks are too stiff or thick, she won't pull them up far enough and there will be wadded up sock at the end of her feet, taking up too much space in her shoes and hurting her toes. If the socks are too soft and stretchy, she will pull them up too far and her toes end up being smooshed in her socks to the point that they hurt. Unfortunately, she never complains about either of these things, so I'm unaware until she takes her shoes off at night and I can sometimes see the results. On rare occasions she has complained that her foot hurt, but usually I can only guess when I see her feet at the end of the day.

Her socks needed to be replaced, so I checked out all the socks at the store and picked ones I thought would work well for her. They're too stretchy. She pulls them up so far her toes are cramped. Now that I know this I can at least check every day and see that they're on right, but it takes one more piece of independence from her, which I don't like. I guess it's time to go look at socks again. Hopefully I'll pick better next time.