Mine is starting off on the right foot!  I hope yours is, too!

Happy 8th Birthday, my big girl!  I will not recount the story of your birth and your delayed entrance into the world because, as you told me, “Mom, I know, you’ve told me before.”

(If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were turning 13, not 8.)

You’ve had a full year, and a busy one, and we’ve seen some real changes in you.  You enjoy being a helper, and you always have, but now you are getting old enough to help on a larger scale, especially at church.  You really have become quite a popular helper there, and we often hear reports of how amazing you are.  You also have become more responsible with both of your brothers, especially Rerun, though that doesn’t always mean that they don’t annoy you terribly sometimes, and that you aren’t always as nice to them as you could be.  You are working hard on accepting that Tad will never be the brother that you see that your friends have.  This is not easy – for any of us.  But I know that eventually, you will set such an example of kindness and tolerance among your friends that you will be known by it, and you will set the example in the future for how Rerun will treat Tad.  We’ve already seen glimmers of it, and those moments when you stand up for the defenseless are among the times when I am the proudest of you.

School is old hat to you now, and you love being there, learning and working and playing hard.  I am so proud of how well and how much you read, and when I compare how much that has changed from a year ago, I can hardly believe the difference.

Things that were very important to you a year ago have become less important now.  You no longer dig your heels in about vegetables or trying new foods (which makes my life SO much easier).  You no longer insist that you have to go to college someday – ever since you decided to open a cupcake shop someday, you’ve decided that pastry school would be a much better idea.  (For now.)  Your feminine tastes have matured – you still love Princesses, pink, and long, flowing nightgowns, but you have moved beyond so many “little girl” things.  It’s hard to believe that I really have an eight-year-old on my hands, and not a impish little girl anymore.  You are sweet and stubborn, compassionate, yet critical, faithful and forthright.  In short, you are growing up.

So, as I mix up pink peppermint frosting for your chocolate cupcakes today, I will remember that you are growing up so very quickly, and that as much as I miss the little girl that you once were, I cherish the big girl that you are now and the young lady that you are becoming.

I love you, Ane, so very much.

“The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn His face toward you and give you peace.”  Numbers 6:24-26

Happy 8th Birthday!

Love,
Mom

With love,
Deanna, the Webmaster, Ane, Tad and Rerun

Tad lost another tooth!

This tooth had been getting looser all the time, and a few days ago I noticed that the permanent tooth had broken through right behind it.  I knew that it was only a matter of time before it came out, and I was helping him wiggle it.  Tad told me that it was bothering him and asked me to pull it out, but it just wasn’t loose enough.

Then right before bedtime, Tad walked up to me and said, “Mama, I pulled my tooth out.  Here.”

He then handed me the tiny little tooth.

It’s a good thing I’m not squeamish.

The tooth is now safely in a plastic baggie under his pillow, awaiting the Tooth Fairy.  He is very excited to be getting “monies to put in my fire truck piggy bank.”

Note to self: Boy can handle his own teeth.  I am glad that he decided to pull it out at home!

I can’t even begin to describe what a life-changing year this has been for you.

You were formally diagnosed with autism a little over a year ago, and you have been in ABA therapy and speech therapy consistently ever since.  You entered the CLC program at school last fall, and have now finished kindergarten.  You began to take swimming lessons.  We tried you out on the gluten-free diet.  It feels as if every single thing that you do has been noted, written down, analyzed and built upon.

You continue to astound me at every single turn.  You have blossomed with therapy, and are learning to master skills that I once despaired of you ever having.  You were a star in your kindergarten class – so much so that you began to spend some time in the peer model class next door.  You threw yourself – literally and figuratively – into the pool and showed us that you might truly be part fish.  The gluten-free diet was a bust, but at least we can now say that we gave it a try.

And we bought an iPad.  I really didn’t think that it would be the tool that others had claimed, but I was willing to give it a try with some recommended apps.  And I was completely blown away when you began to read.

Last night at bedtime, you read Little Critter: Going to the Sea Park with me, and while you needed help with unfamiliar words, and prompting on some others, you were really reading.  And this is a book you haven’t memorized because you’ve heard it hundreds of times, or have it read to you on the iPad.  My heart just overflowed as I watched you carefully read each word and stick with it, even when you weren’t sure what the next word was.  I was so proud of you, and I told you that, which just made you shine with happiness.

I really am hoping that this next year will see a major change in your social skills.  I would dearly love to see you make friends and want to play with them, be kinder to your sister and brother, and learn to process your anger and frustration without hitting or lashing out.  I know this is a tall order.  But I have seen you achieve so much that I refuse to limit my belief in what you will be able to accomplish with time and effort.

In this last year, we have made great strides in just understanding you, Tad.  Autism is like looking through a kaleidoscope – the patterns and colors are constantly shifting and changing, but sometimes you can catch a clear picture.  And when you do, those pictures are always amazing.  The problem is, we are trying to catch a clear picture of you, and you’re trying to catch a clear picture of the world, and our pictures and interpretations sometimes don’t line up all the time.  But we’re beginning to share some pictures every now and then from the different ends of the kaleidoscope, and it makes all the work and effort worthwhile.

I love you more than you can imagine, Tad.  Happy 6th birthday, my budding ichthyologist, my masked crime fighter, my spelling champ, my first-born son.

Love,
Mama

Rerun was being extra hammy and cute, especially for the camera.

How did we get through a nearly two-hour commencement with three young children?  Two words: electronic devices.

The only downside to letting Rerun have an electronic device is, well, he’s a baby, so he has to be reminded not to eat it.  But he is awfully cute when he’s pretending to make a phone call.

Once it was over, we managed to find Auntie (not an easy feat), got outside, and began snapping pictures.

She then went off to the senior party, and we carted some very tired kids home.

Congratulations, Auntie!!

The little girl is all grown-up now and is graduating from high school today.

I am so very proud of my sister.

With all of my heart, I wish she was here, so I could hug her.  I can’t believe that she’s really turning 6… which also means that Tad will be 6 in just a couple of months.  (Tad also has his first loose tooth, which I also cannot believe.  Ressis, you’d better check Little Cousin’s teeth.)

Happy birthday, Little Cousin – you are so loved, and we miss you so much!

And here’s a very cute picture of Ane and Little Cousin from around Tad’s first birthday…

They look so little, don’t they?

However, our Saturday plans were shot when Tad threw up on Friday night and generally felt cruddy for the next 18 hours.  He stayed home from Sunday school, but he really has recovered well.  I’ll be sending him to school today.

And then May started off on a REALLY high note…  We were enjoying our evening at Friend and Doc’s house, playing baseball with the kids after dinner and having some ice cream… when Oddball called the Webmaster.  When that call ended, the Webmaster said, “Turn on the news, NOW.”

And that is how we learned that Osama had been dispatched to his just reward… which I know was not 72 virgins.

For the seven children gathered around the four adults, who were all born in a post 9/11 world… they didn’t really understand or care.

The adults did.

When we got home from Friend and Doc’s last night, and were getting the kids inside, we heard a neighbor lighting off a firework.

I know the Webmaster was wishing we had some to light off, too.

I was just experimenting with my own little blog in a small corner of the Webmaster’s personal website, that’s all… which is where the name “Deanna’s Corner” came from.

Six years, two sons, and many many posts later, the Webmaster no longer has time for his website, but I’m still writing away.

Yes, this blog is older than Tad… and not much younger than Ane, given the short space between them.

Thanks to all who read, comment, and keep up with us!  A special recognition should be given to my sister, Ressis, for easily being my most frequent commenter.

Here’s to six years!  And maybe by next year, Rerun’s molars will finally be in!  The poor baby is really having a hard time with these, and the only thing that makes him feel better is Mommy.  Which is sweet, but not so great when Mommy is the only one at home and the other children like to eat.

Ane asked me, “Why don’t you just carry him all the time?”

I replied, “Because my arms would fall off.”  Seriously.  He’s 22 pounds of clinging monkey baby weight.

Webmaster, come home, SOON.