A Glass of Wine with Dinner

It was one of those days.

I like the "Mommy drinks because you stim" line, but because Anna doesn't stim so much, I can't really use it. Unless you can call shrieking, stimming.

Normally I enjoy a glass of wine at night after the girls go to bed. Rarely I'm so frazzled and fed up that I have a glass while they eat dinner. Which is what I did tonight. Go ahead and call me a slacker mom. I don't care. But I do invite you to come to my house when Anna is busy wigging out over every small thing and nothing works to bring her down from the ceiling.

Anna has been pretty high strung for about a week, which is something we have not seen too much of since starting the diet. I've been coasting along for a couple of months thinking - man, isn't life great since going GFCF? Besides improvements in behavior, communication, eye contact, sensory issues and generally being more with it, Anna seems more at peace and less agitated with herself and her surroundings. Woe to me for assuming her progress would be all uphill without major tumbles down a rocky hillside.

Anna's last morning of preschool was yesterday. We've been talking to her about it and prepping her for this transition for about a month. She was ready to go. She had gone as far as she could with the program, and she was ready to move on. However before getting to preschool, Anna was clingy on the bus ride to school, and asked DH to carry her to class. She seemed strung out, laughing hysterically over weird stuff. Even the class coordinator mentioned it. Yesterday afternoon at home she seemed fine. But then, she woke up this morning. And it went all downhill from there.

Anna's speech has improved immensely in the past year, but she is still not really able to talk about how she feels. Today she must have been feeling a little lost knowing she would not have the preschool routine, not see her classmates anymore, not sing the songs, not play on the special playground, not see her teachers...but she is not able to put her anxiety into words. So all day long she transferred her anxiety onto her surroundings. She sang her preschool songs to herself, which she normally does not do. She fought with her sister. She fought with me. She screamed, jumped, threw herself around on furniture, shrieked at her sister, stole toys while laughing and running away, and hollered in time-out like I was torturing her with hot pokers. The neighbors must think terrible things about me, like what could I possibly be doing to my child that would make her scream bloody murder at the top of her lungs like that? Nothing, actually - just trying to enforce the rules...no screaming, to stealing, no yelling "no", no hitting, etc...the rules I enforce every day. But today was clearly not every day. It was so bad I actually looked at her and yelled "You've only been home one day, and I'm already crazy!". I felt like a horrible, horrible person. A horrible mother.

A few minutes after the yelling and the crying, Anna apologized for screaming at me. And I apologized for yelling at her. If she would understand, I'd apologize for transferring my fear and anxiety too. The frustration and desperation I felt a little over a year ago over the screaming, the biting, the throwing herself against the walls, the inability to communicate, the way she was hamstrung by her sensory needs...all of the things that were horrible about life before diagnosis and treatment...I felt those things again today. It's not fair to her. I just can't help feeling unhinged at the thought of going back to that dark place again. I know we won't, but my response is too primal to be reasoned with.

I guess Anna and I are both a little high strung. I'm afraid we are going to butt heads all our lives. I want her to know how much I love her, not how much I'm frustrated by some of the things she does. She is beautiful and smart and sweet and kind, all lovely and girly and rolled up into a slim frame, blue eyes and a squinty smile. I poured myself a glass of wine and sat with the girls while they ate dinner, and exhaled to relax. I hope tomorrow is a better day.

Banana Cake

Another Better Homes and Gardens adaptation.

2 cups GF flour blend (I used this one)
1 1/2 tsp. xanthan gum
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup shortening
scant 1 1/2 cups sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
2 eggs
1 cup mashed ripe banana
1/2 cup coconut milk (or make lower fat by using rice milk)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour a 13x9 inch baking pan or two 12 cup muffin tins, set aside.

Sift together the dry ingredients, set aside. Mix the coconut milk and the banana, set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, beat shortening on high speed for 30 seconds. Add sugar and vanilla, bet until well combined. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add flour mixture alternately with the banana mixture, beginning and ending with the flour mixture, beating until just combined. Pour into prepared pan or fill muffin cups 2/3 full.

Bake cake for 30 - 40 minutes or cupcakes for 20 minutes until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool completely on a wire rack. Frost with Creamy Chocolate Frosting or Maple Frosting as desired.

*To make this low-fat, substitute the shortening for 1/4 cup canola oil plus 1/4 cup applesauce and substitute the coconut milk for lite coconut milk or rice milk.

Creamy Chocolate Frosting

6 tbsp. coconut cream (refrigerate a can of coconut milk overnight, then skim the cream off the top)
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 cup cocoa
2 2/3 cup powdered sugar
coconut milk

Sift together the cocoa and the sugar. Combine the coconut cream with the vanilla and add to the sugar mixture. Beating on high speed with an electric mixer, slowly add enough coconut milk until the frosting reaches spreading consistency.

Creamy White Frosting

4 tbsp. coconut cream (refrigerate a can of coconut milk overnight, then skim the cream off the top)
1/2 tsp. vanilla
3 cups powdered sugar

Beat all ingredients at high speed with an electric mixer well combined. Frosting will be thick - thin with a little coconut milk if desired.

GFCF Carrot Cake

I've adapted this recipe from Cooking Light - it came out really great. It rose and baked beautifully - it is light and fluffy - it did not sink in the center and is not dense at all. I love that it is low fat and not full of oil and eggs. This cake is really yummy plain or frosted with Creamy White Frosting.

1 3/4 cup All Purpose Rice Flour Blend
2/3 cup sorghum flour
1 1/2 tsp. xanthan gum
2 tsp. baking soda
1/8 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
3/4 tsp. allspice
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup applesauce (originally 8 oz. crushed, drained pineapple)
3 tbsp. canola oil
2 eggs
2 cups finely grated carrots
1/2 cup walnut meal
2/3 cup rice milk or other non-dairy milk
1 tsp. vanilla

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 13x9 inch baking pan, or line a 12 cup muffin tin with baking cups, set aside.

Sift together first 8 ingredients, set aside.

Combine sugar, applesauce and canola oil, stir well. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in the carrots, walnut meal, rice milk and vanilla. Add the flour mixture and stir well.

Spoon the batter into the prepared pan (or muffin tin). Bake cake for about 30 minutes or cupcakes for about 18 minutes, or until a wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool completely on a wire rack. Frost with Creamy White Frosting or Mock Buttercream Frosting if desired.

Gluten Free, Casein Free Ultimate Chocolate Brownies

I copied this recipe from my mom's stash of recipes before getting married (lo, those many years ago). I think she got it from the back of a Hershey's cocoa tin. Here it is, adapted to be free of gluten and casein. It is decadent, chocolate-y, and oh, so yummy. The original recipe calls for frosting the brownies (see Creamy Chocolate Frosting), but they are already so rich that I omit the frosting completely.

3/4 cup cocoa (not dutch)
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/3 cup melted coconut oil
1/3 cup applesauce
1/2 cup boiling water
1 tsp. vanilla
scant 2 cups sugar
2 eggs
1 1/3 cups Sorghum Flour Blend
1/2 tsp. xanthan gum
1/4 tsp. salt
1 cup bittersweet chocolate chips (Guittard's are free of dairy)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 13x9 inch baking pan with cooking spray and set aside. Sift together the cocoa and the baking soda. Add the coconut oil and stir to combine. Pour in the boiling water and stir until thickened. Add sugar and stir till combined. Add eggs and beat until well blended. Sift together the Sorghum Flour Blend, xanthan gum and salt. Add to the chocolate mixture and stir until fully incorporated. Fold in the chocolate chips. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake 35 - 45 minutes, or until the brownies begin to pull away from the sides of the pan. Cool completely in the pan on a wire rack. Frost with Creamy Chocolate Frosting if desired. Cut into squares and serve.

Chewy Ginger Bars

Adapted from Better Homes and Gardens! The girls are mighty impressed by these straight up, but the bars would also be a good dessert warmed and topped with vanilla coconut milk ice cream.

2 cups GF flour blend
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. xanthan gum
1 tsp. ginger
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. cloves
1/2 cup coconut oil, melted
1 3/4 cups packed brown sugar (or 1 1/2 cups brown sugar plus 1/4 cup applesauce)
1/4 cup molasses
1 tsp. vanilla
2 eggs

Grease a 13x9 inch baking pan, set aside. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Sift together the dry ingredients, set aside.

Combine coconut oil, brown sugar, molasses and vanilla. Beat in eggs. Add the flour mixture and stir until combined. Spread batter into prepared baking pan. Bake 20 - 25 minutes or until center appears set (center will sink slightly). Cool in pan on wire rack. Sift powdered sugar over the top, if desired, and cut into bars to serve.

Currant Scones

This recipe is from Bob's Red Mill, modified slightly.

1 1/4 cups sorghum flour
1/2 cup tapioca flour
1 1/2 tsp. cream of tartar
3/4 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. xanthan gum
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. salt
4 tbsp. sugar
4 tbsp. palm shortening
1/2 cup rice milk
1 large egg
1/3 cup currants
1 tbsp. rice milk

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Coat a baking sheet with cooking spray. Set aside.

Sift together dry ingredients including sugar. Cut in the palm shortening with a pastry cutter until the mixture resembles coarse meal.

Combine the milk and the egg. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and add the liquid all at once. Stir with a fork until just combined. Fold in currants. Turn dough onto the prepared baking sheet. With floured hands, pat dough into a circle 3/4 inch thick. Cut into 8 wedges. Brush with rice milk.

Bake scones 15 - 18 minutes. Let cool on pan on a wire rack. When mostly cool, cut into wedges again to separate the scones, and cool on a wire rack completely.

The Roach Whisperer Hears Dead People

My husband told me the other day, as I was describing Anna's little dance around the roach on the floor, that we should call her the Roach Whisperer. He said she could make a lot of money by mesmerizing those big roaches long enough for someone to whack them. I started to scold him until I remembered that the roach really did seem hypnotized by her limbs akimbo tribal dance. Maybe I'll ask her to do her little dance again the next time I'm confronted by a big roach to see if she really can work a little magic.

Anna's sensitivity to sound continues, although it is harder to pinpoint exactly what about a certain noise bothers her. Last week in speech therapy she played with a cash register that made beeping noises, which caused her to plug her ears. This week she played with the same toy and did not plug her ears. Many times she will become upset (read, screaming and sobbing) over a strange noise that she can't identify. She will calm down if I tell her what is making the noise. Her bat ears hear everything, from the low hum of an air conditioner kicking on to the faint sound of a cricket in the next yard. DH tells me we should instruct Anna, when she is with one of her grandparents, to look off into the distance thoughtfully and say "I hear dead people!". I told him that was really mean. But, she would be completely believable!

Early Morning Amusement

This morning Anna was up and making noise at the ungodly hour of 6am. Megan and I prefer to sleep until about 7:30am. So I went to Anna's room to tell her to be quiet please, it's still dark outside and it's not time to get up yet. She looked at me, carrying a piece of toilet paper in her hand. She said "Mom, where's the bug? I'm trying to clean it up!"

Uh-oh. The last time Anna talked about a bug in her room it turned out to be one of those big roaches that come in from the outside.

"What bug, Anna?", I asked her.

"That bug, Mommy. Where is it? Is it in the closet?"

"I don't know, Anna, where is it?"

"Mommy, see where I am pointing!" She points to the closet.

"How big is the bug?"

Anna surprises me by saying "It's medium sized!".

Hmmm. This does not sound good. I open the closet door and peek inside. I don't see any obvious evidence of a bug, and I'm tired. I tell her to go back to bed and play quietly until I come get her.

Several minutes later as I'm trying to fall back asleep, I hear Anna jumping in her room. Annoyed, I go back to tell her she needs to be quiet so Megan can sleep. She is animated, practically dancing circles around something on the floor. It's a roach and surprisingly, it is medium-sized. Even more surprisingly, it's moving slowly. Normally those things are lightning fast. I think about getting the cast iron pan but I see a big Dr. Seuss hard cover book next to Anna's bed. I grab it and smash the bug. It makes a gross popping noise. It is now an ex-bug. I dispose of the remains. Then I turn off Anna's light, show her how dark it is outside and ask her to please play quietly until I get her up. The bug now gone, she obliges, but I can't fall back asleep. Ugh.

A little later, we are all awake and resting on my bed. The girls are being very cute and talking animatedly with one another about pillows, blankets, the fact that it's cloudy outside. It's wonderful to listen to them and I decide that keeping Anna home from school today is a good thing, since she's having a lot of interaction and conversation with Megan. We have breakfast and Megan decides to bring her bowl of cereal into the living room, where she promptly spills her cereal all over the floor. I make a frustrated sound and clean up the mess.

Anna hears me from the kitchen and says "Mommy, why did you crank?"

"Because Megan made a big mess", I said.

Anna turns to Megan who is now in the kitchen and says "Megan, don't make a big mess. Mommy cranks at you when you make a big mess!".

I'm thankful for the amusement this morning. I'm even more thankful Anna has received the speech therapy she needed to be so conversational lately!

Anna's sobbing

For the past several days, Anna has been putting her head on my shoulder while I read a book to her. When she does this I'm afraid to move. I'm still not used to it, it surprises me, and I don't want to disturb her. But yesterday I dared to play with her hair a bit while she cuddled up next to me and she tolerated it for a couple of minutes.

What also surprises me is her sobbing. She never used to cry sadly...she'd cry or scream in anger or fear, and those were her most prominent emotions for a long time. I had learned to stand back and not to dare touch her so as not to make it worse. It's like being afraid to touch a fragile piece of china. However, for the past few weeks Anna has been over-reacting in a different way - not screaming in anger but sobbing brokenly over small things. I have no idea how to handle this yet. I'm afraid that if I try to talk to her when she's crying, she'll flip out and have a tantrum or a meltdown, like she does when she's agitated. I suppose I should react like any mother reacts to her typical child, but since she's my first child and she is not typical, I'm not sure how to go about it typically.

Two weeks ago, Anna was expecting to see her friend one afternoon and I told her that plans had changed and we'd have to wait a few more days to see her friend. She broke down sobbing, just so sad and emotional about it. I just looked at her with wide eyes and thought, what it going on??? We were all strapped up in seatbelts in the car so I couldn't give her a hug, but I was able to say something to the effect of I was sorry she felt sad, and it's okay to feel sad, but we'll see Harper in a few more days. She calmed down and I started breathing again. It's a terrible thing to feel like I can't approach my daughter and give her a hug for fear that she'll flip out. I have to find a way to get over that, because clearly she is getting over her anger, fear and resistance to touch. She's becoming more typical, and I need to find a way to get over my own fear and treat her like a typical child, pronto.

My Gluten Intolerance

Yes, I think it's for real. And I'm not heartbroken about it. As you know, it's Anna who has the confirmed gluten intolerance. Everyone in the house has been GFCF since mid-January...this just makes my life in the kitchen easier. I've found that I really like cooking and eating gluten-free. (I don't like cooking casein free yet, but I'm getting used to it.) However, DH and I have indulged in a guilty pleasure twice a month in the form of...pizza. I like the GFCF version that I make for the girls, and it's good enough that even DH scarfs up the leftovers with a resounding "yum". But there really is nothing like a good old fashioned white flour pizza crust. I used to make pizza crust with wheat flour to be healthy, unaware that it was actually more like poison for Anna. But I've been making it recently with plain white flour, because if I'm going to be making something evil and forbidden, it may as well be truly bad in all it's white flour glory. But I can't enjoy pizza anymore, because since going gluten free, every time I indulge in a little gluten, I pay for it for the next two days. It makes me feel so bad, that I don't desire even one tiny slice of forbidden pizza. My head tells me I should be a little sad about this, but my body is saying "whoo-hoo!". I'm going to make a regular pizza for friends next week, and I'm going to make a small gluten free version for me, and I won't be sad or envious or wistful in the least. It's no longer worth it to feel that bad.

What's interesting is that I think I've always had gluten intolerance and never known it, thinking that it was normal to feel more or less lousy all the time. It wasn't until deciding to go gluten free with Anna that I started to feel really great, and really lousy again every time I ate some pizza. It does not seem to be the cheese becauseI do have dairy on a regular basis and that does not seem to bother me. The only obvious culprit is the pizza crust. And I'm happy to give it up.

I'm not going to bother getting tested for gluten intolerance, right now anyway. I know what my body is telling me, and that's good enough for me. Actually I hope my girls get to this point when they are older. When they think they want what everybody else has, and indulge in some pizza or pasta or a big bowl of ice cream on the sly, I want them to listen when their bodies say..."it's not worth it". When they can look a pizza in the face and not feel deprived, then I will know that I have done a good job in the kitchen.

Anna's Conundrum

I have finally run across a description of Asperger's that describes Anna to a "T".

Children with Asperger's have been described as "too bright and articulate to qualify easily for supportive services, too impaired to function well without support."
http://www.thechildrensclinic.ie/autism.html#aspergers

I cannot tell you how many times I have had people tell me that Anna is so bright, so smart, so high functioning. As if simply because she's bright, that should make up for her difficulties. I had Early Childhood Intervention (ECI) come assess Anna when she was 2 1/2 years old. They told me although she had echolalia, fine motor delays and sensory integration problems, she was "too smart to have autism", that she was "quirky" and had "odd duck syndrome", and since because she was so smart they would not offer her services. Then they told me not to bother asking our local ISD to provide services for her because they had "bigger fish to fry" and would not help her. A year later I was at wit's end with a child who could not functionally communicate, who engaged in self-injurious behavior because she was frustrated at not understanding and not being understood, who could not dress herself or use utensils correctly or sit still for more than two minutes at a time, who shrieked and sobbed at the sight of another child and who hid from family members when they tried to hug her. And she was expected to overcome all of this (and more), by herself, because she's smart. I can't begin to describe my supreme frustration over this.

Thankfully, at age 3 1/2, Anna was evaluated by a speech pathologist who suggested Asperger's and directed me to an occupational therapist and to a neurologist for further assessments. The neurologist confirmed ASD and finally, Anna started speech and occupational therapies...not through the school system, but through clinics that accepted our insurance plan. Anna may be smart, but she was not able to help herself. If we had not started treatment, right now she would be a wild animal, locked inside herself with no way out - no way to functionally communicate, no way to regulate her behavior or emotions, no way to understand the world through a sensory system too sensitive to properly process the information it received.

Anna is doing much better today thanks to early intervention and support. I still run into the "she's so bright!" comments, like I'm supposed to be flattered by them. I'm not, because I know the minute she has a melt-down, we'll be getting the judgmental sidelong looks that say "what is her problem?". Anna is bright, but she still has difficulties that she needs help overcoming. I don't know why that is so hard for people to accept.

Raisin Spice Cookies

I've modified this recipe from the back of an Arrowhead Mills bag of brown rice flour. It's really quite good. These cookies remind me of oatmeal cookies, and they are just fine without the oats.

1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup canola oil
1/4 cup applesauce
1 beaten egg
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 cup brown rice flour
1/4 cup potato flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. xanthan gum
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. allspice
1/8 tsp. cloves
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 cup walnut meal, if desired

Beat together the sugar through the vanilla. Sift the flours through the cloves. Stir together the wet and dry ingredients until well mixed. Add the raisins and the walnut meal, if desired. Scoop teaspoonfuls and roll into balls. Roll balls in sugar and place on a greased baking sheet. Press tops of cookies to flatten slightly. Bake at 375 for 10 minutes or until bottoms are lightly browned.

Cinnamon Peach Scones

Here I've adapted Penzey's recipe for Cinnamon Peach Biscuits.

1 1/2 cups All Purpose Flour Blend
1/3 cup sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. xanthan gum
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 cup palm shortening
1 cup diced ripe fresh or canned peaches (if using canned, pat dry on paper towels)
4 tbsp. rice milk

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Sift together the flour through the cinnamon. Cut in the shortening until mixture resembles small crumbs. Toss in the peaches to coat. Add the milk and stir until a soft dough forms. Tun onto a heavily floured countertop, using more of the flour blend you've chosen (I used a rice flour blend). Sprinkle some more of the flour blend over the top of the dough and knead two or three times. Pat into a circle 3/4 inch thick. Cut dough into 8 wedges. Transfer wedges to a greased baking sheet. If desired, brush tops with milk and sprinkle with cinnamon sugar. Bake 15 - 20 minutes or until golden brown. Cool slightly on wire rack and serve warm.

Occupational Therapy Discharge

Anna has been on an occupational therapy hiatus for a few weeks while the therapist and the clinic were requesting more therapy visits from our insurance company. We get 20 OT visits per year and we needed just a few more visits for Anna to finish reaching her therapy goals. Surprisingly, our insurance gave us 26 more visits! I was stoked!

So today Anna saw her therapist, who said that today she would just test Anna to see if she'd regressed after a month off. She came back to me after Anna's session was over and said "I have nothing for you!". At first I thought this meant that Anna had done terribly, but she meant that Anna has met all her goals! Instead of regressing, Anna has progressed on her own! All of her skills are now age-appropriate - tracing, visual spatial coordination, strength, pencil grip, cutting and drawing a square by herself. There is nothing more the occupational therapist can do, because she can't justify working on 5 year old skills when Anna is just shy of 5 years old. We are going to meet with the therapist for the last time next week. She will give me a home therapy program for Anna, and she told me to watch closely in kindergarten for signs that Anna may be falling behind her peers in handwriting skills. If that happens, we can call her and she'll do an evaluation and we can start occupational therapy again if needed. The only strong recommendation she gave me today was that Anna join a sport - swimming or gymnastics - to keep Anna's strength up. She is recommending discharge from occupational therapy, effective immediately.

I have mixed feelings about Anna being discharged from occupational therapy. I'm ecstatic that she has met all her goals, but I'm also a little unnerved. She's been at this clinic for just over a year, since she was diagnosed with ASD. It's been like a safety net for me, and I feel like now we are jumping out of that safety net into something unknown. For a year I've lived, breathed, researched, and struggled with the ASD diagnosis. And for at least a year before she was diagnosed, I lived with the knowledge that something was wrong, and struggled to get a diagnosis. Now that I'm comfortable with the diagnosis, and have made my peace with ASD, things are changing. Not that I'm complaining, because these changes are the very things a parent of a child with ASD hopes and prays for. But it feels like we are standing on the edge of a cliff looking out into the great unknown. We implemented the battle plan, and it worked. But what's next? I don't think I can call her recovered, because she never regressed - she just did not progress beyond a certain point. I don't want to call her cured, because I don't think autism is a disease. Instead, I feel more like Anna has grown into herself, and breached the barriers that kept her locked inside herself. But if autism is a neurobiological issue, if it's genetic, if we've worked on re-wiring the brain to make correct connections via speech and occupational therapies, and if we've removed the obvious environmental insult (the diet), how far along the continuum to "normal" can she go? And is "normal" even desirable? I want her to be herself while being able to love and connect and communicate. I want her to be able to offer her unique gifts and insights to the world. I do not want her to be forced to conform to someone else's idea of "normal". I do not want her to be forced into a mold she cannot fit.

All that being said, Anna's rapid progress has me surprised. She was progressing slowly and steadily until we put her on the GFCF diet in January. Then, she started sprinting forward. I know that development comes in spurts, but it's not just her development that has suddenly raced ahead, I feel that it's the moderation of her sensory issues that started this sprint. Before we got her allergy test results, I did not think the diet would help Anna. I thought it was all genetics. Her neurologist told me in all his 20+ years of treating children on the spectrum, he's never seen the diet make any difference to even one of them. But then Megan ended up with a dairy allergy so we got Anna tested too. And wouldn't you know, she showed sensitivities to dairy, wheat, gluten and peanut (and lesser amounts to soy and egg white). We put her on the diet and...we saw changes. They've been dramatic. Life-changing. And I don't think her doctors will believe us. Anna's therapists, however, have seen the changes. Her occupational therapist is just as surprised, I think, at how far Anna has come in just three months.

Although they've moderated, Anna still has sensory issues that set her apart from typical children. She is extremely sensitive to pain (hair brushing still gets her screaming and hair cuts are a nightmare). She covers her ears for loud noises (lawnmowers, car sirens) and does not like certain pitches of music. She gets anxious in a room full of people. Her speech skills also set her apart, as do her difficulty with empathy, her need for routine, and her nonverbal learning difficulties. Her speech and language have improved, but it's idiosyncratic. Her 3 year old sister has a better grip on pronouns, prepositions, possessives, and if-then statements. It's clear that Anna thinks and processes information differently. She chatters a lot now at home and in familiar places with familiar people, but put her in a new/semi-new place with new or not-so-familiar people, she does not talk at all. She won't talk to children she does not know well, although she watches them closely and imitates them.

I guess the unsettled feeling I have comes from seeing Anna's support structure that has been early intervention dissolve as she catches up to her peers. I'm unsettled because I know that even though she may be catching up on the outside - in her speech and her motor abilities - she is still fundamentally different on the inside. I'm afraid that there is only so much that I can teach her. I'm afraid that other people will not take the time to understand her. That she can only go so far with our help, and then she is on her own. I'm afraid that in the future, her problems will be primarily social, and I'm afraid that will spawn anxiety, depression or self-doubt. Will she be accepted by other girls even if she has a hard time reading body language and facial cues? If she has trouble interpreting non-verbal communication? Tongue-in-cheek statements? Jokes? Innuendos? Will she be taken advantage of because she may not be able to read a liar? Will she find confidence in her strengths? Will she heed her inner compass? Will she find love and friendship and joy in her relationships? Will she find peace and joy inside herself? Will she be able to navigate the waters of "normal" and come out believing in herself, centered and strong? As surprised as I am at Anna's recent progress, I'm more surprised at my reaction to the progress. With the slow and steady progress, I could look into the future and formulate a plan for getting from point A to point B. But the future is nearly here. I have no plan except love. Will love be enough?