14 November 2012

A Full Life

It came yesterday.


It was a big deal for us.


It was the first time Abigail had ever seen snow. She was less than impressed. She kept giving me this look that half said, "This stuff is COLD!" and "Mommy, why are you doing this to me?"


Lately I have a lot of projects on my plate, but I'm enjoying them all too much to give any of them up. Most are on a deadline, which means I need to start prioritizing them. We have no plans this weekend, so it looks like Abigail will get some daddy-daughter time.


Speaking of Abigail, we ran to Joann Fabrics this afternoon to pick up some materials for one of the aforementioned many projects when we had a bit of an issue. I was standing in line at the fabric cutting counter in a line of three mamas of little girls. The girl in front of us in line was the exact same age as Abigail and the girl behind us was a bit older. All three children waved at one another while we waited. The female employee cutting the fabric flirted and flirted with the little girl in front of us, complimenting the mom on how cute her daughter was. When it was our turn, the woman in front strolled away and I took her place. Silence ensued. Not once did the employee smile, wave, or compliment Abigail. She stoically cut my fabric, shoved it across the counter to me, and handed me the price printout without a word. As we walked off, I heard her greet the girl behind us, saying, "Hi!" in a baby voice and giving the mom a: "she's so cute!"

And I was left wondering why? Is it because I took too long making up my mind when it turned out there wasn't enough fabric on the bolt for my project? Is it because I couldn't find the note on the side of the bolt telling me how wide the fabric was and had to ask? Why? Is it because she has Down syndrome? Whenever we're at the grocery store and someone turns away from Abigail's wave, I just tell myself she must not be a baby person. When there is insufficient data, I'd rather imagine acceptance than rejection. But sometimes I get just enough data to make me think twice. It's never overt, no one ever just comes out and says anything about Abigail, which is good because I don't want a scene in a place of business. I know that worrying and wondering is a waste of my energy, but right now this public rejection stuff is so new, so outside of my comfort zone, that I can't get it out of my mind. I try to remind myself of the two women (customers) who told me Abigail was adorable and the other women in line who jokingly chided their girls for not sitting still long enough to sport pig tails.

"Look for the good...and you will find it," my copy of Bloom says. This right here is good:


There is a link between Down syndrome and Autism, but every time Abigail's speech therapist sees her, she comments on how expressive Abigail is. One more concern we can scratch off the list.

What am I thankful for right now? My wild and precious life.

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