You're taking this really well...

I looked at the doctor and I must have not given her the look she was expecting, because she said, "You're taking this really well." I moved my eyes off hers for a minute and looked at the Banshee, who was busily playing with a toy in the corner. She looked at me and smiled. I grinned at her. Banshee, so nicknamed by the primal scream that came out of her when she was born, is one of the best things I have ever made. Pixy being the other best thing.

It had been a long road to get to that moment. One we decided to keep private, mainly because the people we told thought we were crazy and went so far as to say, " I think you are the one with the problem." To us, her parents, something in the puzzle that is Banshee, was not fitting correctly. We suspected Banshee was autistic and we needed validation.

You see, in Banshee, there is a spot where the pieces didn't quite fit. Let me start by saying that she is a happy child. When the world has the rest of us down, she always has a smile to cheer the rest of us back up. She is extremely smart for her 2.5yrs of age. She knows her colors, uses 8 words or more in a sentence, and loves music so much, it is almost as if it is an extension of her person. All amazing traits in a child, but... she lacked social skills. She didn't like to play with children, not unless it was the Pixy. They didn't inspire curiosity in her, nor the need to be with them. We believe that there is no need to be social in her world because she is happy the way it is and that we are allowed in it because we inspire love and safety. We are her pack, along with our dogs, who are an extremely important part of her life. In our little wolfpack, Banshee is the lone wolf. Full of surprises and mystery. And awesomeness.

I guess when the doctor told me that Banshee was mildly on the Autism Spectrum, she was expecting denial, shock, tears, maybe even anger on my part. I am not sure, so the fact that I was smiling and breathing quite a few sighs of relief, really must have been startling to her. "I am happy that now we can start finding her the help she needs," I answered the doctor. To that the doctor replied, "Honestly, I am happy that you are ready to go. Let's get the ball rolling!"We talked shop: scheduled visits, took down some numbers of local agencies that can help us out, and completed some forms. Banshee, meanwhile, just played happily and would check-in with me by asking, "Are you ok, Mama?" The doctor loved this exchange between us and made a note of it, while telling us that our 2 hour ordeal was over. I couldn't help but thank her profusely, as I finally got the validation I needed. I wasn't crazy, or making up things, I wasn't even being 'too watchful' of my children. It made the load I was carrying on my shoulders feel quite light.

Still, as I broke the news, I was met with resistance. Perhaps it is because of the stigma that autism carries, or maybe people just don't  know enough, but no one wanted to believe that the Banshee could be mildly autistic. Let me tell you, that this inspired a bit of anger in me, which is always dangerous. The need to be fiercely protective of my family is so strong, that it trumps decorum any time of the week. I couldn't understand for the life of me why it was so hard for people to accept what was in front of them.  We could see it, why couldn't they?! I found myself speaking through clenched teeth things like, 'Yes it could be typical of a 2 year old to repeat certain things, but it is NOT typical for a 2 year old to repeat them ten times, and no it is not because the answer you gave her isn't satisfying. ' It was frustrating beyond measure, and still is to this day. This, however,  wasn't going to stop me from my mission of finding the help I needed for the Banshee, no matter what. Come what may.

In spite of all that, and with the help of some amazing friends who pointed me in the right direction(as in, met me there and walked me to the right office. You rock!), I was able to get in touch with a preschool program at the Kennedy Krieger Institute geared toward children like Banshee, who need a little extra help to understand the world around them. I was floored at how fast the process moved along for us and before I could process everything that was going on, I was told  that Banshee would begin school on Tuesday. WOW!

Needless to say, my head went into a tailspin. How am I going to do this? The Sailor isn't here (he is away on tour), I am on my own, and I have to get the Pixy to school every day. It was crazy to think that I could make all this work. I mean, I am good, but am I that good? 'I guess we shall find out soon enough!', I muttered under my breath. I took a deep breath, made the necessary arrangements to have Pixy get to school on time, and organized myself so that life would be a little bit easier for me. HA! Tack on appointments, activities, and just keeping up with the housework...well, let's just say that the calendar looks more like a rainbow than an organizational tool. But, it is there. Our new reality. In technicolor splendor; or something very close. I will say that we are lucky The Sailor is a phone call away and can keep him updated on life as we know it. He feels awful that I am on my own right now but his confidence in me feels good: "I have faith in you. I have never known a person that can take so much, and make it look like the easiest load in the world. You are one tough lady and I am proud of you." He makes me smile.

Every now and again, as I find myself meditating on life as it stands, I think of all the things that could have been different. I could have ignored my gut feeling, I could have never taken Banshee to the doctor, I could have even learned to dismiss what was in front of me. Maybe, I might have even told the doctor that I didn't believe it, or ignored my friends help. So many things could have gone differently...it humbles me. It makes me thankful that my belief that 'the universe always unfolds as it is supposed to' holds true, in everything. It might not take the route that we envision, but eventually, we get where we need to be. Come what may.

For now, I sit here waiting on tomorrow, when Banshee begins her first day at school and Pixy begins her first day in Before Care, not fully wondering how it will all go. No. I am thinking of taking that first picture of my youngest baby with her backpack and new clothes on, ready to face the future. I am thinking of hugs and kisses for each child at the door, of words of encouragement that today will be the best day ever, of the sigh of relief when everyone makes it where they need to be, and of the strength it takes to get it all done because 'I will be damned if I let all this beat me!'. Tonight, Mama Wolf just sits here, gathering her strength for battle, because we all know that she-wolves are never truly off-duty, no matter what. Come what may.