I dreamed last night that Julianna had to have surgery that was likely to kill her.
I don’t have these dreams about my other kids. It must be some subconscious manifestation of the worries unique to special needs parenting. In that dream, Julianna came running over to me laughing, and I hugged her close, drinking in the feel of her and the sight of her long lashes and beautiful eyes and gleaming hair, letting the life in her fill my senses.
Things are changing for Julianna. She’s growing, sneaking up on milestones…like the first lost tooth. And writing her name:
The other morning, we were trying to catch up on homework–they receive a packet for the month, and in November we didn’t stay on top of it. This particular assignment was to write ten items she sees around the house. For the first four, I cued her phonetically for what letter came next, but she seemed to be almost anticipating me. When we started to write “ball,” I decided just to see what she would do. That girl wrote b-a-l-l without one hesitation or one cue. “CHRISTIAN BASI!” I yelled to my husband, who was over in the corner reading the paper. I think he thought he was in trouble. “SHE JUST WROTE ‘BALL’ WITHOUT ME EVEN TELLING HER WHAT LETTERS TO WRITE!”
And yet she still signs and whimpers pathetically, “Help!” every time she has to start her homework. She really wants someone touching her hand.
It’s so easy to underestimate her abilities because she doesn’t exactly talk yet–although she has hundreds of words now, they’re just not always understandable, and she isn’t putting together complex sentences, only word pairs, like a beginning speaker. Most of the time when she does try to communicate something, we have no idea what she means. It must be so frustrating, but she stays good-natured about it.
She has names for everyone in the family now: “Bah-ee” and “Da-ee,” “Bappa” (Grandma and Grandpa, inclusively), “Ah-lee” and “Koh-lee” (Alex and Nicholas), and of course, no one ever mistakes “Bah-khoh Bah- khoh Bah- khoh!” ….because she screams at Michael dozens of times every day. I can’t decide which of them is actually the guilty party in the Roommate Wars.
Speech or not, she is beginning to grow into her own, with dozens of words she knows by sight and a goofy, kindergartener’s sense of humor.
My long-term fears haven’t gone anywhere; no doubt they explain the early morning dream. But she’s blossoming these days, transforming from the child I love fiercely but don’t really understand into a full-fledged big kid, one who is poised to spread her wings and fly…as long as I pay attention and give her the chance.
Kathleen M. Basi 
Awesome. I really love the way that you have been capturing your children’s lives in recent posts (okay, maybe “recent” is the last 3 months or something that I periodically catch up on but fail to comment), and this is fabulous.
At least I think it is. It may be possible that I’m just swept away by the awesomeness that is the last picture. 😉
🙂 I have been feeling a desire to capture lately, and it’s been fun. That last shot followed the “hands over face” one by about one second. This is what she does. Goofball girl. 🙂
Kathleen, I don’t know if you even remember me from NPM – we were not really close during those days of before children for you. But I remember you very well, and I remember so well Julianna’s birth. I have followed your blog and found such strength in your journey and your humor. I know there has been great sadness and fear as well. You are a joy to my life as I watch from a distance and I can sit in South Texas and say, “I know Kate – I remember her well. She is my light.”
Micaela Wright
Oh, of course I do! I’m so glad you took time to comment, so I knew you were lurking out there. 🙂
Awesome. Picture and article. And I almost cried when she spelled ball (and I can almost hear you yelling it at your husband, which is funny and touching at the same time.) I just love your writing. Thank you for sharing with us.
I loved my daughters growing up years and they know how much I enjoyed them. When I read your stories I want a do over, just to recapture those times and savor them again. You’ll have hundreds if not thousands of postst to reminded you of your great love in your old age. That’s a bonus on top of what you savor as you write.
I love the stories about your kids and husband – family life.
Would Julianna be able to type on a computer? I think there is a lot going on in her head that she can’t express understandably. It must be terrible not to be able to communicate conveniently. I am thinking what a godsend sign language must be for her.
She’s getting better all the time–a year ago she had half a dozen words, now she has hundreds. So it’s coming. I’m sure another year from now we won’t be able to get her to shut up. 🙂 But I’m trying to slow down and take time when she comes over to me, and not just give up after one or two tries.