Autism April

Today is the end of autism awareness month. I have enjoyed sharing some of the funny stories about Emily. I am so appreciative of the support that I receive daily though you all reading my blog and commenting. Every day is an autism awareness day for me. I am constantly learning new methods in dealing with behaviors. I am constantly educating others about Emily. Raising a special needs child is sometimes lonely and scary. The future looms over my head and as much as I want to know exactly what it holds for her, I don't. I know that there is much planning I have to do in the next few years to prepare her for a life once she is out of school. She will always be with me and for that I am grateful. She is such a bright light even on the darkest of days. The humor I find in the things she does is second to none. I truly wish that everyone could see her as I do.

Thanks for reading, sharing laughs and getting to know my Emily!

~Jessica~

I've been called many things but never this

Yesterday I was folding clothes in Luke's room by myself when Emily walked in and said, "Come here little fellow. I need to show you something." I've been called a lot of things before but never a "little fellow". My first thought was that she sees me do so many "man jobs" around the house that she actually thinks I'm a guy. I don't know why that struck me first but it did. As I followed her out of the room she wanted me to see the snails on the hardwoods. We don't actually have snails on the hardwoods but apparently there is a monster on Monsters Inc that looks like a snail to her. She thinks that the different lines and shapes in the hardwoods look like snails. So she wanted to show me the snails. All while holding her Monsters Inc DVD in her hands.

I don't know where "little fellow" came
from or even if she was really addressing me as a little fellow but I liked it. It was different and I've been called worse. Gave me a giggle.

This is how we roll

I am somewhat of a clean freak. There are certain areas that I just can't ever keep clean however. One being the garage and the other being my car. I am in my car 3 hours every day. Emily is in the car with me for 2 hours. To occupy her and keep me sane she eats in the car. Fast food. Junk food. I don't usually care as long as she is happy.

I have said it before and I'll say it again. Emily is a nasty eater. Food goes in her mouth and sometimes it comes back out. The third row of my SUV could be a petri dish. There are French fries on the floor. The cup holder is filled with whatever liquid has seeped through the bottom of the cup. It's so disgusting I don't like getting back there. Sometimes I even hear Anna Grace say, Ewww Emily don't eat that!" As long as my girl is happy and I don't have stuff thrown at my head while I'm driving, I am good with it.

This is what happens when she eats cheese puffs in my car. The roof becomes a napkin!

The Fair!

It's that time...The fair comes to our town twice a year. It's at Oak Mountain Amphitheater and we pass it twice a day going to school. Emily can spot the ferris wheel from the road and her obsessive compulsive disorder kicks in right away. All I hear is "Can we go to the fair?" "What do they have there?" repeatedly. For those who have been around a child on the spectrum, you know how intense an obsession can be. There are days that Emily's obsession of the fair turns into tantrums because she wants to go so bad. If she would actually ride the rides without it being an exhausting experience for us both I might take her. But I know what it will be like. She wants to ride the ride. She talks about riding the ride. We wait in the line. We get to the front of the line and she panics. She wants to ride but she's scared. Screaming ensues and I'm stuck with stares from all around. Knowing Emily as I do, I know that she wants to ride. Bracing myself for the fight I drag her kicking and screaming onto the ride amidst more stares and finger pointing. Her heart is racing and she white knuckles the bar. The ride starts and the wind hits her hair and she is free. One finger in her ear to block out the noise. One hand on the bar. A smile on her face. We get off. She wants to go again.

After school this week I decided to surprise her and take her right by the fair. These pictures may not stay in order of surprise due to posting from my phone but you get the idea.

You have to wear panties to the prom

Emily has the prom at school tomorrow. I tried her dress on her before bath tonight and decided to just let her walk around in her panties while I got her bath ready. As I walked downstairs to get towels she followed behind me saying aloud to herself, "Honey, you have to wear panties to the prom."

Yes Emily. You have to wear panties to the prom.

Sharley Temples

A few years ago Emily got the entire Shirley Temple collection on DVD. Much to my delight she loved them. She calls her Sharley Temples. In the past several months when watching them she feels the need to change clothes many times, which I don't mind because she needs to learn how to dress independently. However, she can't put the clothes away and throws them on the closet floor when she is done. Talk about a mess. She likes wearing dresses and bathing suits most to pretend she is "Sharley" although they never match. For some reason she also likes to mark her body up with the expo markers we keep in her room for therapy.

I don't know what goes through her mind when she watches her beloved Sharley Temples, but I can say for sure that she is learning a valuable lesson by dressing herself and for that I can't get upset about the mess she makes in her closet. As for the marker all over her body I have to think about that one. I can't think of a more suitable show for Emily to watch than Shirley Temple.

Extreme couponing autism style

I think most people know I am tight with a dollar and love to save money by using coupons. Here is a prime example of why an autism parent might benefit from couponing.

In less than 18 hours(15 of which were spent asleep or at school) my kids managed to eat 20 chocolate covered granola bars. Now I know 6 of those twenty were split amongst 3 people. The other 14 were eaten by Emily. Who doesn't eat the entire bar before she throws it away and opens another one. I found the remnants of 3 after she had already consumed the other 11 at some point during a 3 hour time span.

Autism eating can be expensive....

Don't eat upstairs. It will cause rats.

I'm terrified of mice and rats. After an incident with a stalker mouse last summer, I have since banned any and all food from being eaten upstairs. My oldest however, being a teenager, lives in her room and I am constantly finding food hidden everywhere. I say aloud every time I find a leftover pop tart in the window sill or cracker crumbs on the floor after I've vacuumed, "Don't eat upstairs. It will cause rats." Emily has picked up the phrase and uses it often.

Tonight I caught Anna Grace with a sleeve of ritz crackers in her room and gave her the speech. Emily was in her own room and had obviously heard me. As I walked in her room she was under the bed saying aloud, "Don't eat upstairs. It will cause rats." As she came out from under the bed she had one of her sensory chewies in her mouth. I appreciate her willingness to obey my rules even if she does try to copy her older sister by using objects that can't be eaten but go in the mouth. I gave her props for making that association but reaffirmed my rule of "Don't eat upstairs. It will cause rats".

Hair drying...the next Olympic sport

Drying Emily's hair every night for the past 8 years has been somewhat of an Olympic sport. Due to sensory issues she does not like having her hair dried. It's the noise of the hair dryer as well as the feel of the brush. Just brushing her hair every morning gives me a workout as I usually complete no fewer than 2 laps around the living room chasing her with a brush. Hair drying is different. More intense. Longer time involved. Not to mention she has the thickest head of hair.

It starts at the sink with her looking at a book or her iPad while I start the process of drying her golden mane. Her fingers go in her ears several times
to block out the sound. After several minutes she becomes overstimulated and wants to leave the bathroom. It is at this point that the 8 years of training for this hair drying event kicks in. I am
swift in my movements as I back up in front of the door. My body is not wide enough to cover the entire opening so I shift my hip to one side and lean with my upper body to the other. All the while both hands are working simultaneously. One brushing and the other drying. Body in place and braced for what's about to happen as she turns from the sink and bolts for the door. I stand firm in that door willing myself to complete the event before my competition takes me down. I don't take away the gold medal every night but the blood(yes sometimes there is blood), sweat and tears that the Olympic event of hair drying takes prepares me for other such events in our daily routine.

R-E-S-P-I-T-E...find out what it means to me

Respite is what many special needs parents call a break. There are different ways that a parent can receive respite care for their child. Many churches hold respite nights once a month. Some parents have sitters or family members that watch their kids. And then there are parents like me who do not utilize any respite care.

There are many reasons I don't get breaks very often. First it is expensive if you have to pay someone to keep 3 kids. I'm tight with a dollar and have a hard time justifying a few hours of me time for that amount of money. Second
it takes a special person to watch a child with special needs. It has to be someone that not only you trust but someone your child trusts. Third it is often not worth the break to return to a
child who is thrown off of their routine because you needed a few hours to yourself. Those are my reasons for not taking breaks.

Today however I was fortunate enough to have my parents keep all three kids while I take a much needed break. The first thing I thought of was getting a hotel room with a cheap bottle of wine, a pack of cigarettes and a book. I don't smoke but the idea sounded cool. Emily had tons of questions about where she was going. Why I wasn't going with her and what I was going to do without her. I told her I was paying bills and doing work.
She bought it and here I sit relaxing and drinking wine. No cigarettes. Enjoying a much needed break.

Rock me mama like a wagon wheel

While eating at our local Mexican restaurant, I made the connection to the song Wagon Wheel when I saw Emily obsessing about the wagon wheels that are a prominent fixture throughout. I don't know why she doesn't like the wagon wheels that are a staple in Hacienda. Maybe it's the spokes. Maybe it's that they hang from the ceiling. Maybe she just doesn't like wagon wheels. I don't know. It also made me think of all the bumpy roads we've been down and maybe that's why she doesn't like wagon wheels. Thinking of the lyrics made me think of all the nights I spent rocking her to sleep. Or not to sleep. She loved to be rocked but as soon as I stopped her little eyes would pop right open. Come to think of it I'm sure she would not want me to rock her like a wagon wheel. She just wants her mama close.

The next time we eat at Hacienda however I will start singing Wagon Wheel to her in hopes that she won't tell me 100 times that those darn wagon wheels scare her. Or maybe I could ask the owners to change their decor. Or we could find another restaurant.

Tickle Me Elvis

Emily is an old soul. Since she was a little girl she has loved black and white movies, musicals and old school singers. Elvis has been a favorite ever since she stumbled upon Viva Las Vegas on tv one day many years ago. She loved the music and the man. However until just recently she called him Viva Las Vegas. She even got confused after seeing John Travolta in Grease and called him Viva Las Vegas. The hair threw her off.

When we go to the book store she asks for Elvis books. She can't read so she likes the photography books found in the Biography section. She asks me every day to type Elvis into her iPad so she can watch clips from his movies. She has perfected the dance moves from the period. Tickle Me is another great Elvis movie. Every morning before school we get to listen to Dirty, Dirty Feeling from that movie. She makes me laugh so hard when she dances like Ann-Margret from Viva Las Vegas. She loves her Elvis.

Honey! Son!

I have a habit of calling the girls "Honey" quite a bit and Luke gets called "Son". It's usually when I'm slightly annoyed with a behavior or am trying to get a point across without completely losing my cool. Emily has taken up use of those two words as well. Nearly every sentence she says to herself starts with Honey. For example she might say aloud, "Honey. Honey. You can't eat another piece of cake." Or she might say "Honey, it's ok. Don't ask another question." She also only refers to Luke as "Son" now. "Son don't get all of that out" is something she might say if he were playing in her room.

I think they are endearing terms for her to use and don't think twice about it. Luke doesn't seem to mind that she calls him Son. As a matter of fact he tends to listen to what she says when she does call him that. Like when she recently told him, "Son, I don't feel good. Can you get me a blanket?" and he took care of her. Don't tell me my girl is not smart using my words for her benefit.

April Showers

April showers bring May flowers is the saying but I am here to tell you what springtime rain does to Emily. Water is a sensory need for Emily. She loves the water and it calms her. If I had the money we would live near water for her benefit. Ok maybe mine too. For now though we are forced to take showers and baths in the tub to satisfy those sensory needs.

Warmer temps and rain make Emily think beach and swimming pools. She doesn't understand that we are no where near either, so she is forced to improvise. She used to just strip naked and run out the door if it were raining and she wanted to get wet. Screaming and yelling if I told her no. That's when I introduced bath and shower "pools". As she has gotten older and watched hundreds of videos on kiddie pools she has learned to pretend there is a pool in our house. On a recent rainy Sunday she could be found in her bathing suit sliding down the stairs on a float(pillow) into the pool(floor). This went on for almost an hour and I just let her have her fun splashing and swimming about.

"And I wonder still I wonder who'll stop the rain"

Buckle up and enjoy the ride

Emily accomplished a longtime goal today. Many years and tears on the daily crazy train and she finally learned to buckle her seat belt all by herself. She was as surprised as I was and so proud of herself. We had just come from McDonalds where she exclaimed,
"I can get big French fries now?" Of course I gave her mine instead of the 4 fries that come in happy meals now.

It honestly could not have come at a better time. Just this morning Anna Grace was buckling her up in the backseat for me, when Emily started flailing around and Anna Grace hit her hard in the nose and made her cry. Maybe that was the straw that broke the camels back. Anna Grace usually helps to buckle her in the mornings but it isn't her favorite thing to do.

For those who don't know car rides are a nightmare for us. I am the parent who stands behind her words, "Don't make me stop this car." I've had to break up many a beatdown in the backseat between the girls. Hair and fists flying I am surprised no one has called the cops. So while this post isn't really funny, I can avoid the drama that ensues nearly every day and I can save my ever old and creaking knees when I have to climb in the backseat myself!

I found God

Emily has a thing for Preachers. Specifically televangelists. Over the years we have been to church and vacation bible school some, but not nearly as much as I would like. When Emily was younger and her social anxiety related to stores was severe I taught her to pray during the times she felt most afraid. I couldn't be home bound with 3 kids so taking her places that I knew would result in massive panic attacks for her was difficult. Once during an extremely long wait in the check out line at Michaels when she was 4, she became anxious and asked me if she could pray. Right there in the line she dropped to her knees and prayed. It's just something I always encouraged although the stares weren't uncommon.

Joyce Meyer has been a long time favorite of hers. Luckily she used to come on television before school so it made our morning transition easier. She had a tv in her room and would turn it on as we were getting ready. One morning I was in the kitchen getting the other two kids ready and I heard her scream. It was the scream that said shit is about to hit the fan and there will be no turning back. I started calling up to her asking what was wrong only to get more screams. By the time I was heading up the stairs I heard her call out, "It's ok. I found God." She could not find the station and it upset her. She associates preachers with God and therefore they are called such. It gave me quite a giggle to hear her say that. Not long after that, scheduling changed and we were forced to watch episodes on the laptop before school. I can think of worse obsessions to have.

You farted and it stinks

As much as I like to be a classy, well rounded(not my body) woman, I do find humor in the most inappropriate things. Emily has just become aware of her ability to pass gas. She isn't shy about it either. She has never burped since she was an infant and becomes agitated if anyone else burps aloud. She doesn't like the sound. However she does find toots from other people funny. I suppose this led to her fascination with flatulence and her ability to get attention from it.

At least 3 days a week she passes gas in the car. It's loud and it stinks. One of the other kids usually blurts out "You farted and it stinks" to her. Now Emily doesn't have a ton of unscripted speech. She tends to take what other people say and apply that to her own conversations with herself or others. She also has a difficult time with pronouns. For instance if I were to say to her, "You need to go potty". She will say to me "You need to go potty" when she needs to go instead of "I need to go potty". It is something we are working on. Well after repeatedly being told "you farted and it stinks" by her siblings, she likes to repeat that aloud when she passes gas. It is quite humiliating when I am sitting next to her in a crowd of people and she toots and blurts "You farted and it stinks". All eyes on me after being accused of letting one rip by my 10 year old.

Partment Books

Like many individuals on the autism spectrum, Emily has some unique interests and obsessions. I allow her to indulge in most as they are innocent and entertaining to her. I do believe that there is something to be gained when I allow her to follow her interests.

For the past 7 years she has had a fascination/obsession with guide books. All types. Travel, local resource guides and her favorite...apartment guides. She calls them "partment books". These are the books that are found at grocery stores or convenience stores. For the past 7 years every trip to the store resulted in her picking up an apartment guide. This could be as often as 2-3 times a week. It didn't matter if she already had 10 at home or even one in the car. She needed another one. I would have to clean out her room every few months just to make room for more.

So if you are in the market for an apartment in my area don't hesitate to
ask Emily which one she recommends. She is knowledge on the ones that have the best amenities including the most important...the pool.

Sisterly love

My girls are a little less than two years and nine months apart. I always dreamed of girls. I didn't want any stinky boys. I just knew my girls would be the best of friends growing up like my sister and I. Boy was I wrong. From day one the jealousy of Emily's older sister was evident. I thought it was a phase that would pass. As they got older I realized that my dream was nothing more than that. A dream. I chalked it up to Emily's autism for a long time and then just accepted the fact that had Emily been typical, their personalities would not have matched and I would have been looking at many years of sibling rivalry anyway. However both are fiercely protective of one another.

It is usually Anna Grace that gets annoyed with Emily. For many reasons that I am sure would annoy most people. Emily thinks Anna Grace hung the moon but tells her frequently she has pimples. Emily does not get jealous much as that's a hard concept for her to grasp. However...when Anna Grace asked me to take her picture in front of the Mariachi Men at a Mexican restaurant, Emily was quite annoyed. Looks like this rarely happen and I was
glad to capture the moment.

Chuck E Cheese-Where a kid can be a kid

Emily has had an obsession with Chuck E Cheese for years. She has had at least 4 of her 10 birthday parties there. Her fascination with the characters can go from anxious to loving. She doesn't really understand the more advanced games and prefers to spend her time in the toddler area. She also likes the pizza.

As the years have gone by her anxiety over some of the rides in the toddler area has decreased. I never thought I would see the day she would willingly get up on that mechanical horse. It took her several years before she independently did it without having a complete panic attack. Mind you she always wanted to ride it, she was just scared. She would ask to get on and then flail like I was trying to torture her if I attempted to help her on. Her favorite activity at Chuck E Cheese though is the Kiddie Coaster. It is like a real roller coaster with a simulated screen in front. She loves it and people know she loves it. At 10 years old she is almost to big to fit in the kiddie coaster. My question to Chuck E Cheese would be...At what age can a kid not be a kid anymore? Because it will be a sad day when she can no longer fit in her coaster.

Bad Barbies

We have at least 100 Barbies. Some of them were mine when I was a little girl. I cut all their hair off to make them look like boys. I even have a early 80's Ken doll with a mustache. Tons of old clothing to boot. I was excited to share them with my girls.

Emily loves playing with Barbies. However those Barbies tend to be a bit wild and end up passed out. Barbies either ride on each others shoulders or they are face down naked. I honestly don't know her reasoning behind this type of play but I am sure it is scripted. Sometimes the Barbies even get invited to play with the other dolls but they are so bad they are usually passed out.

PoPcOrN

We are a popcorn loving family. My oldest eats at least one bag a day and doesn't share. Long ago I made the mistake of sharing a bowl of popcorn with Emily. She is a nasty eater. There is no other word to describe it except nasty. After I piled a handful of popcorn in my mouth I knew it was bad. Real bad. The popcorn was wet. I at first thought she spilled her drink in the bowl. Until I left the room and saw her putting the popcorn in her mouth and spitting it back out. Nasty!! Since then nobody shares with Emily.

Every afternoon she gets a snack. She chooses 1lb bags of puff corn from the gas station. Sometimes she gets cheese flavored and sometimes just butter. But always puff corn. After a ball game in the fall I took her to Walmart where she found a 2 lb bag of popcorn. I tried to talk her out of it because I knew that all 2 lbs of it would be hers. No sharing. She wouldn't hear of it. I don't know what it is about the corn that makes her want the biggest bags she can find and I don't know what makes her spit it out. But if you ever think of sharing popcorn with Emily, don't.

Smelly Cat

Like many individuals on the autism spectrum, Emily has a sensory processing disorder. She uses her sense of smell to relay things in the environment to her brain. It's how she knows if she likes something.

Now we don't have a cat. I personally don't even like cats. Several months ago while in a store I caught her, as I have many times before, smelling packages. Usually it's in the checkout aisle that she uses her sniffer. Like it's not noticeable enough that she is asking me repeatedly if she can have gum, she smells every package before she chooses one. It's odd I know but I let her do it. I mean really it comes down the fact that if I'm going to pay $1 for something that is not a necessity on my grocery list, I want to make sure she likes it and chews it. I suppose it was the picture on the package of cat food in Walgreens that caught her eye that day. Or it could have been that her super sniffer could smell the vile odor that cat food has from afar. I don't know. Either way right there in the middle of the aisle she stopped to smell. She didn't like the smell. I know because she said, "That stinks." I am ever so grateful that she didn't like the smell because there is no way in this world I would have bought smelly cat food for a smelly cat we don't have.

Tell the truth

"The only honest people in the world are small children and drunk people."

I would also like to add those with Autism. It is one of the things I like most about individuals on the spectrum. They tell the truth. Lying is a pet peeve of mine. I've heard some tall tales over the years. Like when my son made up some story about signing the OOPS pad at school so he wouldn't have to go the next day to accept his punishment on the no fun fence at recess. Or when he cut his hair and blamed it on fake scissors. Now Emily on the other hand never makes up such stories. She is just not capable. She ate her brothers special snack one day while he wasn't looking and caused great strife with him. He asked her if she ate it and she said matter of fact, "Yes". She just always "tells the truth". Which ironically is one of her favorite Eric Clapton songs. Mine too.

However, knowing that she is honest, I still sometimes second guess her. Like yesterday when I went into the bedroom downstairs and was nearly knocked out by a smell so fierce it made my eyes water. I asked her if she pooped and she said no. She will at times attempt to clean herself up so I thought maybe she had gone into the bathroom, where the smell was even more pungent, and pooped. I even asked her if she was telling the truth. We went to dinner and she said her tummy hurt the entire time. We got home and she had the loudest, smelliest gas that no 10 year old girl should ever have. She did poop a short while later. It was at that point that I realized she was telling the truth earlier.

So it can be said that the only honest people in the world are small children, drunk people and those with autism.

1800 I need a miracle

This post is about the desperation we as Autism parents feel when we can't help our children. Emily did not sleep the first six years of her life. I would have done anything if I could have gotten her to sleep longer than 2-3 hours every night. This story by my friend, Angie, is a humorous tale of one such night of desperation.

*As a side note she says "please know that calling for a miracle is not my standard practice. This was a desperate act-----I do believe God grants these "miracles" in the form of therapist, teachers, many "angels" - Learning Tree/Woodys Song".

I'd like to thank my fan

No really I'd like to thank the portable space heater that nearly burned the house down before Christmas, but Emily calls it a fan. I plug it up on cold mornings to keep the kids toasty while they get ready for school. I can hear Emily talking to herself as she comes downstairs, "Good morning. Oooohhhh there's the fan". She says the same thing every morning before she plops down in front of it. I'm not so sure she likes it for the warmth as much as for the relaxing light and sound. I put the beloved "fan" away when temperatures reached the 70's recently. The morning she came downstairs to no fan was not pretty. There was crying, hitting, refusal to go to school and I was frazzled before 7 am. The "fan" is now a permanent fixture in the living room. It might be 90 degrees but I will have it turned on daily for her relaxation before school and to prevent meltdowns of epic proportions. I'd like to thank my "fan" for that little break.

If I'm really lucky I might get to thank my "fan" for losing a few pounds while I'm running around every morning trying to get 3 kids ready for school sweating profusely from the heat of that little magic maker.

Thanks for reading~
Jessica

I'm sexy and I know it

Those who are closest to me know that those words would never be spoken by me. My struggles with low self esteem prevent thoughts like that. However those 6 words play through my mind like a broken record every day. For hours. Here's why...

Car rides create severe anxiety for Emily. Music is one of only a handful of things that soothes her. She has a wide variety of songs on her iPad that she uses in the car. The one song she plays is "I'm sexy and I know it". But not the whole song, just backing it up to replay those 6 words. Over and over. One hour in the morning and one hour in the afternoon. Every day. Sometimes if she's feeling bored with it, she will somehow speed it up to sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks. All while I'm driving with my eye twitching from this noise. Now if she only played this then it might not be so bad but...that's just background music for her. She likes listening to the car radio as well. She is quite bossy from the third row. "Turn it up. Turn it down. Change it. Go back." She will have me flip until I find a song that she likes. If that's not enough to add a head jerk along with the eye twitching, she also likes to ask me questions. Constant questions that leave no room in my head for anything else. Yet the only thing my mind can focus on is those 6 horrendous words that NO 39 year old mother of 3 feels after 2 hours of the above...

"I'm sexy and I know it".

Pictures of Autism

I just wanted a picture of us in blue for Autism Awareness Day. However anyone who has a child on the spectrum knows how hard it is to get them to A) Stand still B) look at the camera and C) smile.

Today's Autism funny was the distraction that my new deodorant brought to our little photo session. The distraction came shortly after the first picture. She smelled something different on me and pinpointed it to my armpit. Her request to smell it made me laugh. She liked the smell so much that in her excitement she nearly took me down.

Splish Splash

I'm just going to say it. The Easter Bunny is a bi$ch. Every year she puts the same thing in Emily's Easter basket knowing it will cause her to have many meltdowns that day. The Easter Bunny is also very practical and frugal though, and likes to give things that will last longer than a chocolate bunny or a basket full of junk. Several years ago she started putting bathing suits in the baskets. It's been chaos and crying every Easter since.

This Easter was no exception. The wide-eyed surprise of finding the bathing suit brought squeals of joy that would make any bunny proud. However the joy was fleeting as the association between bathing suit and swimming crossed her mind. I could see it like a movie scene. The smile. The glance at the bathing suit. The look outside the window. I knew it was coming although she never said a word. After three intense rounds of crying throughout the day I finally succumbed to the stress and did what I knew would make her happy.