Two major things have happened in the last week that left me thinking…I guess I’m over it. And by “it” I mean Olivia’s diagnosis.
I’m over it.
That feels great to say. Kind of like feeling good about myself. It’s like I’m slipping into this new skin that’s been waiting for me all along…and I like it.
When I had my mani/pedi on Friday, I was chatting with the technician and I said that my daughter had special needs. She said “Oh, like ADD or something?” I went on to give her the “quick and dirty” version of Olivia’s diagnosis. She looked at me with a horrified look and said “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. How horrible!” In that moment, I knew I was over it. Because I just looked at her and said “No, it’s really not. She’s doing great and she’s a joy.” She looked at me like I was crazy. I just sat there with a big smile on my face.
I’m over it.
We were invited to a friend’s house for dinner on Saturday night with some other neighborhood friends. There were many kids running around and Olivia decided to pick on the sweet and cute little four-year-old girl. She pulled her hair. She dumped milk on her head. She said “Shut up!” She pinched, she bit, she hit. We disciplined her and intervened, but I didn’t get upset. Usually I’d be so frustrated and embarrassed that I would just want to leave. But not this time. I just handled it and moved on. Because this is my life. This IS who she is. This is what she does. This is how she handles overwhelmingly exciting situations. And other people either have to deal with and be ok with it…or not invite us over, right? The other Moms and Dads were great about it. The kids handled it (although the little girl didn’t leave her Mom’s lap after the milk incident…) so why shouldn’t I just be ok with it too? So I am.
Like I said, I guess I’m over it.