Ellie wanted to pet the kitties at the pet store. On our way, we passed the little, fluffy, singy birds and stopped to admire their cuteness. As we turned the corner, Ellie said to me, grinning and giggling, “I just saw a picture of a bird that looks like your hair in the morning.” She took me to see it. Little stinker’s right on.

Peace is a rare commodity. When it happens, I hold on tight.

Last year we made an attempt to swim with my sister-in-law. This was a change in the lineup from the previous lineup which consisted of Ellie swimming with Mom. This change resulted in a standard sixty minute meltdown and quick return trip home. Even discussing the possibility of someone else swimming in the pool was too much for Ellie to take.

Fast forward to present day. We swim. With people now. Friends. Sniff. Sigh. Oh yeah. We’re pros. There’s the talking with the swimming and the laughing and the games. Oh, I almost forgot. The joy. The take it all in with the biggest breath, sunshine kissing your face, butterfly wing magic powder, morning dew from a bird of paradise kind of joy that I couldn’t begin to see even with binoculars from the same perch exactly one year ago. The air at this elevation is really amazing.

For whatever reason this morning, my girl was having some anxiety, in an XL. Even she wasn’t sure why. It was just one big circle of worry. She wanted to know how to go about getting medicine glasses when she gets big (prescriptions glasses). I told her about the eye doctor and, in an effort to appeal to her love of sciencey/gadgety things, explained the cool owl eyes you get to look into. This set off the big ball of stress. It might hurt so she decided when she grows up, she’s just going to get them without the looking into anything part. I could tell she was having trouble getting past it and my attempts to change the subject went unnoticed.

I was doing my best to get us both out the door for camp with this little hiccup when OUT OF THE BLUE she asks, tearfully, “Do I have to go to the doctor today?” Turns out, she actually does. Who ratted me out?! Her check-up is today, complete with a round of shots. What are the odds of that big pigeon pooping on my head today? I’m gonna say pretty good.

I can’t lie to her but try to put a positive spin on it. If she could, she would have told me what to do with my spin. Of course she’s worried about shots, but then it turns into not wanting to wear a mask (don’t know what that means) or see the doctor who gags her with the tongue depressor, and where will she sit, and so forth. Eventually, she calmed down some, but I can see that worry on her sweet little face a mile away and I feel so badly for her. I imagine trying to get her into the car this afternoon will look a lot like this.

By the way, she has to have another blood draw in a month. Let’s just keep that between us.

Following is how a fun day of swimming can suck like Mississippi channel water. From the time you enter the pool.

Ellie: I want you to be the Mama who has a baby who is scared to swim.
Me: Hi baby. It’s going to be fun, come sw…
Ellie: No! You’re on the wrong side and I need you to talk with a deeper voice.
Me: I was thinking maybe we could ride on these rafts instead.
Ellie: I’m too scared! No.
Me: Why don’t you pick out which color you’d like and we can just test ‘em out.
Ellie: I want the pink one.
Me: Okay. I’ll help you get on it.
Ellie: I just want to think about it. I’m afraid I’ll sink.
Me: Honey, you already have full-body floaties on, I promise you won’t sink.
Ellie: Are these like surf boards?
Me: Kind of.
Ellie: Can we stand on them?
Me: No. They’re not as strong.
Ellie: What happens if I fall off a surfboard?
Me: Well, you’d get right back up.
Ellie: But, I don’t know how to swim! I don’t EVER want to surf. Don’t forget. I don’t EVER want to surf.
Me: Here, let me push you along a little.
Ellie: Not from that side! That part has fire. This is a speed boat. Also, you can push me but don’t kick. I don’t want to see feet.
Me: How about if I let you float a little and we can look at the clouds?
Ellie: Does my raft have flowers?
Me: No, it looks like yours has big pink bubbles.
Ellie: I want flowers!
Me: Would you like to trade rafts?
Ellie: No! I want flowers on my pink one.
Me: Well, I don’t think we can make that happen.
Ellie: Then I’ll put them together and you can push us. NOT THAT WAY! I don’t want the rafts to touch. Also, I don’t want you to lay down. This is a boat. You can’t drive laying down. Sit up!
Me: I’m going to swim over here while you work it out.
Ellie: I NEED YOU TO HELP ME! IT HAS TO GO THIS WAY!
Me: [silent treatment for a long time]
Ellie: Do ostriches have long legs?
Me: I guess they do?
Ellie: Can they kick people?
Me: I suppose so?
Ellie: Will they kick me?
Me: I don’t think we’ll be in a situation where that will happen?
Ellie: But they COULD! I don’t EVER want them to kick me. Don’t forget!
Me: Why don’t we put some of your toys in the water?
Ellie: WAIT! I have to throw them. You have to be in the middle of the water to catch them.
Me: Well, why don’t we just see how far you can throw them?
Ellie: NO! You have to be in the middle.
Me: I’m going to sit right here. You can get your toys or not. It’s up to you.
Ellie: Well Mama! I can’t get them if you don’t go in the middle.
Me: I’m going to sit here and put my head back to relax.
Ellie: I want to do that too!! I need you to help.
Me: When you sit down here, I can show you how.
Ellie: No. I need you to come get me.
Me: I think you’re a pretty good swimmer. Come swim to my hand and I’ll pull you in.
Ellie: NO! You have to come get me.
Me: The pump is going. Let’s swim over to that and pretend it’s the lazy river.
Ellie: I WAS GOING TO BE FIRST! YOU RUINED IT.
Me: Listen. We are here to swim and relax. It doesn’t matter where you go, how quickly you get there, or what you choose to play. You can make your choices and have fun or we can go home.
Ellie: I DON’T WANT TO GO HOME.
Me: Then you need to find your soft voice and your nice words.
Ellie: I don’t want to be a doctor anymore.
Me: That’s fine, sweetie. You can be whatever you want when you grow up.
Ellie: It’s too hard to give people shots.
Me: (after two hours of swimming) We have ten more minutes. If you can be a good listener and cooperate by getting out, drying off, and getting dressed without whining, we can come back tomorrow.
Ellie: I’m NOT getting out!
[After she managed to get out, I let her sit on a towel in a chair to dry off. When I started to talk to my Grandma, shit blew.]
Ellie: I want the towel to cover my feet. Make it cover my feet! I can’t dry my back sitting here and I CAN’T get off the chair by myself! I NEED YOU TO DO IT NOW!

And this my friends, is only a partial excerpt from a full six hours of Ellie trying to control every aspect of her day including how I respond to her. I earned my two jumbo margaritas this evening. If Jimmy Buffett even thinks of looking at me sideways, I’m going in to find his lost shaker of salt.

This is my first attempt at a birthday cake. Fondant and all. I don’t think the Ace of Cakes has anything to worry about. When I did the birthday cake presentation, Ben pointed at the eyes and said, “What are those?! Is it cold in here?”.

It was slim pickin’s at the Red Box. I came home with two movies last night.

Me: Ben, do you want to watch “The Other Guys” with Will Ferrell and Marky Mark or a documentary called “Babies”? About babies.

Ben: Hmm. Well, since I don’t have breasts, I guess I’ll go with “The Other Guys”.

We are currently in minute 30 of a meltdown. The nice thing is that it’s been quite awhile. The shitty thing is that it gives me full-fledged flashbacks (which is not easy to say). The reason? And I quote, “Mommy does NOT make good dinners”. I retreated to my office to muffle the noise. Sadly, poor Ben, who hasn’t seen Ellie all day, gets to spend time with her while her head is melting. So, who’d like to come over for dinner tomorrow? I might make crap on a stick. Or, if I’m feeling up to it, macaroni and butt holes.

Ellie has been talking a little bit about “C” from summer camp. “C” is a boy. Normally, she doesn’t give boys the time of day (which I’m hoping is a trait that continues through puberty). Yesterday morning, her teacher told me that “C” really likes Ellie. In fact, her teacher is lucky to still have limbs for “C” became quite distressed when there wasn’t a seat available next to him at snack time for Ellie.

On the way home from camp today, Ellie announced that she’s only friends with “H” at camp. Not “C”. I asked her why she didn’t want to be friends with him anymore and she told me it’s because he asks, “Why?” all the time (pot/kettle). Perhaps we are grooming a little female version of Jerry.

I remember Ellie’s first birthday party. Mostly because I ended up in the psyche ward for two weeks. Okay, not really. It was more like three. Anyway, it was pre-diagnosis. She never liked being with groups of people or anything involving noise. Like any rational person, I planned a big first birthday party for her.

Let’s just say, since then, we’ve tamed it down. Drastically. Until now, we’ve not tried a girlfriend party. Yesterday, we had her three girlfriends over. She’s played with each of them for some time now and has done really well. I asked her a month before her birthday if she’d like a party and she seemed up for it. I’m so glad I did. She had a great time and the girls were so cute together.

At one point, her friends were in her room and Ellie was in the living room with the adults. We heard some singing from her room akin to the Bangles. Ellie looked up from what she was doing, pursed her lips into a smile, shook her head slowly, and whispered to me, “Aren’t they just precious?!”. I think she’ll start receiving her first social security check and medicare this week.