There are three angle dinosaurs that are stapled together for the angel at the top of the tree.

This angel has ballet slippers. Note the halo on each of the angels.
Julia drew and colored, and Ellen cut each dino out.


Julia made dinosaurs of all of her therapists. These are precious because each drawing has something of the person in it.
Julia really likes Bethany's hair when she styles it very straight.

Morgan has long dark hair.

It's a dinosaur Christmas -- More and More!

These are two Chinese dinosaurs "being in love."

And this is Julia with her orange dress with flowers on it.


Tiffany wears pony tails.

KC always has lollipops at her desk at the clinic.
This just looks like Jessi.

Julia is just so cool!

So tired from yesterday that I did not go back and write at all! And now is another day and I have more to say.

And again I have to say later!

Two short Julia things: This morning we looked at our rather sorry little Christmas tree that the cat is trying to strip of needles, and for which I bought a few on-sale ornaments for Julia and Ellen to put on in an attempt not to go into our Christmas things at all. We looked and I felt awful sad. And not sad, because I was missing David, but sad because I've always felt such a special bond with plants brought inside the house. Christmas trees have been my noble friends. Giving their lives for my pleasure. I honor them. But I am not honoring this poor tree with a few matching but poor looking ornaments. When I asked Julia about it, she said she wanted to make a dinosaur Christmas tree. And so we will today!! We will have lights! and chains and some of our decorations and dinosaurs!!

Pictures to come.

And Julia went to get dressed today and brought down her red dress with off white and golden flowers and purple tights with poke-a-dots. I commented on how I didn't think it went together, and she said "it goes together on me." And ya' know, it does.

Sense of style? The kid has me beat by a mile!

Some days the miracles just explode, there is so much to see that it is work to take it all in. But is it only because I have been working on seeing the miracles in front of me that I can see so much, or that I have put so much energy of one kind or another out there, that I get some coming back for me to take up and play with? I've written this before and I feel it profoundly today, this time, so very hard at times, so hard to even take one painful breath, is also full of magic and miracles. In metaphor, it is the starving woman walking through the orchard of ripe peach trees. The peaches alone, without the hunger, are delicious, are gifts from the earth and the gods, but how much more a delight to one who is suffering deprivation in body or soul.

So much for long explanations of nothing!

At least two things to write about, but that will have to wait. Today is about therapy, therapy, morning playdate and meeting, and SNOW!

Oh gosh, the sadness goes in and out, like the tide. It is probably predictable from the outside, but I don't see it. It sneaks up on my, it side swipes me. And then in a while it is low tide again.

Julia is doing some incredible things these days. Yesterday, when we went to the movies to see the latest Narnia adventure, she was the one to remember to bring the headphones when we got into the car. In the theater, she seemed to enjoy the adventurous parts that were a bit scary, as well as the happy parts. She had not really liked movies with people but this fantastical adventure tickled her. She loves the odd names of some of the characters. And then, she did this fantastic thing: She jiggled my sleeve. I looked at her and she looked at me. And then she turned back to the screen as if she was sharing some feeling and then leading me back to the movie. This is behavior so simple that very, very young babies do it, but kids with autism find it utterly unfathomable. And Julia did it!!

And I sat there, in the darkness, wanting to jump up and down and shout out and tell everyone there.

We bought a small tree yesterday. Very small, shorter than Julia. She protested a little bit. She wanted something bigger. I see over and over as we get ready for Christmas in the very modified way that Julia does miss the way we usually do it. She remembers. She has that history. I don't say much about how this year is different for our celebrations, but I have the distinct feeling that she just knows. Empathy! She did not fight me on the size of the tree.

I will not take out our usual decorations. I bought a few at Michael's yesterday, and we will make some. That will be enough. What I am doing is just enough. Constantly just enough, and always less than usual. But to myself I am promising to give this kid of mine, no, both kids of mine, a grand and glorious Christmas next year or the year after. We will celebrate again. I cannot let go of the optimistic feeling that we will.

For now though, I have been teary all day.

Visiting Santa

A hug for an old friend.

Julia was so excited to see Santa that she was pretty silly.

And then she had to try to eat just a tiny piece of the giant gingerbread house.

Gonna' clean up before the cleaning lady comes -- Not dirt clutter. Which do we have more of?

Hopefully, we have a full schedule today. Finding a small tree, noodle store lunch (Watched the movie The Ramen Girl and need some good ramen), library, movie, and church. And maybe Santa if we can find an undemanding one. I'd guess we don't get it all done, but I am hoping that Julia has a really lovely day.

She is disappointed that she is vacationing from school -- finally, she likes school, now she seems to way to make up for time.

What a kiddo.

Lots of therapy for her first week of vacation and a little bit of socializing. I am okay. A little sad, but quiet. Very quiet.

Interesting day. Quiet but with great progress.

This morning Julia wore pjs for pajama day at school today. Before this, she couldn't take such a change of school/home boundaries. But this morning, she quizzed me on whether is was REALLY appropriate to wear pjs to school. When I assured her that it was, she was so excited to show off her cozy clothes and her cookie monster slippers that were passed down from Cheshire. Could not be a better end to this semester!!

I went into school later on to read a story. They had asked parents to volunteer to come in and read. Before I read, I asked the kids who's mother I was, teased a little about looking like Julia, and told them that they had all been speaking English for 8 or 9 years but Julia had only been speaking it for 4 years. Then I read Stella Luna. I didn't know whether it was too young for the 3rd graders, but they were all attentive and I had a great time. Julia saw, just like any other kid, in the clump of kids on the rug and listened. I was so pleased to watch her act more like any one of those kids. Her aide also told me that Julia is doing class work and following more directions without supervision. Dare I dream of a time without full time help for her in a classroom. No, I am not looking to help her but I am hoping for her independence.

This afternoon I listened to a Wiley lecture about Family Centered evaluation, and while the person was speaking, an outline for my final project dawned on me. Right now, I propose continuing my research on trauma and presenting to my class about trauma. Right now, I am believing that my trauma research is not going to be finished this year and I have to continue to make sense of the reading, and pass on what I know to others. I was grateful for the flash of inspiration.

The cat wakes up from his early morning nap. He stretches, sits, cleans himself a little bit, and looks for all the world like he is wondering just what trouble he can get into. Then, he turns to me and pounces on my typing hands.

Silly DiDi Chi.

I am lazy this week and it is wonderful. I have slept in or taken naps every day -- where do I get the need for all this sleep. The waves of grief comes and go, as do waves of realization that are a bit different. Reality of being along, or sometimes, strength and knowing what I am doing is right.

I am baking this week -- for teacher gifts and for the 3rd grading reading party tomorrow. I am organizing in the house, especially the computer/toy room. Old systems are no longer working. Julia is not cleaning up very well with out a lot of supervision, which is such a drag. She pulls stuff, like paper, out and leaves everything where it falls when she find the piece she is looking for. I know this is not untypical for her age, but such a drag for me.

I had an assignment form Marilyn this week and just have not gotten to it. Oh, being lazy!

On the weekend, I wrote a letter about what I would like to do in China and sent it too about five organizations and to a friend who is in the adoption world. Of the six requests, I have heard from four, all encouraging and all willing to answer questions and give advice. I am hoping to find out more about what I need to know, what I should be learning, and how I can work on supporting myself if I take on the project that I propose. It is quite exciting.

I have had the thought to spear head an all district PTO for parents and teachers of kids with disabilities. I am not looking to put more on my plate than is already there, but there seems to be such a need, and a friend sent me the announcement of a grant that might have some funds for such a project.

Am I spreading myself too thin? If only I was thin.

I have not written this, but last weekend Julia made us hot chocolate on Sunday morning! It was scary when I saw what she did but she did a very good job of it. She used our hot pot to make the boiling water, she gave us very special cups -- which I had no idea she knew about. She put the cups into a large plastic container when she poured the water and then some milk so that the liquid did not make a mess. And when she was finished, she called me downstairs with such a joyful call. She did, however, make sure that I knew that the bigger cup was for her and the smaller for me. Maybe I should have chided her for climbing on a chair to get the cups, using the hot pot, and making a wee bit of mess on the counter, but she was so proud of herself, and I was so pleased with her independence.

It is funny that as Julia loses a bit of her bossiness, and becomes more dependent on me, and wants to please me more, she grows more self-confident and independent. It is a lovely, confusing statement. So happy to be writing it.

It still amazes me, when I draw a breath and realize that I will not see David again. Still there remains pockets in my heart and mind and soul that expects he will write, will call, will leave me a message, will come home. I am surviving. In a strange, strangled recovery. Recovery from the state of a loving relationship? As I read of trauma these days, I recognize my own. My triggers to heavy grief so elusive that I cannot make sense of them. There is no straight path here but a labyrinth whose center it still hidden. I turn each corner hoping the hope of a cockeyed optimist. I want to cradle and have cradled the broken heart -- mine and his. Mine now. I wish for a fellow traveller but would be bad company for anyone who did not understand me deeply.

Till death do us part -- what kind of paltry relationship is that? I think I did not listen well enough to those vows.

Whew, it has been a long time. I have given myself quite a vacation from writing. I have been doing a little reading, mostly on autism, but a bit on trauma, but I have not felt moved to write in quite a few days and have not pushed myself in the least.

Vacation! I go back to sleep after Julia leaves for school and I wake up like a cat when the sun is in my eyes. I am watching junky movies on Netflix and intend on finding at least one really junky book.

This is the most student-like behavior that I have exhibited all semester. LOL!

I am cooking, baking, and organizing this week. Cooking to eat some good hot meals on these cold night especially when Julia is not finished at clinic until 7 at night. I've been freezing what we cannot eat in one night. My freezer is a bit empty, but I am thankful for all those soups and sauces that I have been using the past months. Baking just for teachers, the holiday party on the last day of Julia's school (this Friday!). I cannot really bring myself to bake for the holidays. I surprise myself at the old fashion-ness of my desires -- my mother and her circle did no celebrating for a year after someone died. I am not intentionally doing this but it does seem to be my behavior. And organizing -- I have not found the best organization of Julia's "stuff" -- toys and art supplies and work. The house is a continual mess. And there is my stuff as well. Research books and articles are piling up without a system. But, to be hones, my mess is a small mound compared to my daughter's mountain.

My semester ends on Friday after a presentation. Working this week towards that day. Weather: cold. Spirits: Okay. We missed only one day of candle lighting. Sweet. Lots of dreams, remember very few. Transition dreams -- like I need to be reminded. Julia having trouble with the cold, and showing some temper about new ideas. Says right now that she doesn't want to go to NYC for Christmas. I have no feeling for writing at all. Would like to be silent in voice and in finger today -- this week, in fact.

Maybe later.

Strange thing about snow. When I saw it yesterday, I felt relieved. As if all was right now with the world. It is December. We should have snow and the landscape now looks like it ought. The thought surprised me. Of course I loved snow as a kid, but viewed it as an unfortunate condition of winter as an adult. Living north has taught me that a city and neighbors can take care and keep life going with snow. And the white blanket on all of the garden beds looks so much nicer than they did after the leaf raking. Can three winters in Madison make such a difference?

Maybe it is time to buy some winter sports accessories.

Two window paintings

This was spring (four seasons themed windows). Yes, it is a dinosaur walking in the rain.

And summer. Dinosaur on a surf board. The colors are a bit off. The yellow was very cheery and bright.
We have to stop at the craft store tomorrow, because next time Ellen comes over (Friday), we'll have winter and holiday windows!

Listening to all those who tell me to take care of myself, I had someone clean the house today. It was a mess and I intended to straightened before she came over. Then, it snowed and I had to retrieve the snowblower from the fix it shop. But by the time I got home with the snow blower, two of my neighbors had shoveled my walk and all I had to do was the drive way (Yes, I live in the best neighborhood!). And so, I also blew another neighbor's walk because . . . well, that's what we do.

Back to the house and cleaning. The cleaner, Sharon, put things in piles -- books, articles, toys, coloring books, pens and pencils, folded laundry, dusted, vacuumed, and mopped. The bathroom is clean, and the floors in the halls are lovely. And she will come back in two weeks.

I wonder, just a bit, of my inability to even do the straightening up before cleaning. I just could not make myself do it. There was/is always something else to do, if only to read to Julia or write here. I usually do this well. I needed this caring. The clean that I did not have to do myself made me feel good.

And she will come back in two weeks.

I scrubbed the windows that Julia and her therapist, Ellen, painted. Since we are just across the street from our school bus stop, I had quite a few parent comments about these windows. Some liked them, some cautioned me that it would be awful to clean, one told me she'd never let her kid make that kind of mess. Well, Julia and Ellen did not make a mess. They painted some beautiful pictures which not hard to clean at all. Oh well, a bit harder than if the pictures were not there but totally work the elbow grease involved. I took pictures of two, only because I had tried to take pictures when they were first painted but the late fall outside washed out the paintings. I thought about a background of snow only after I had cleaned two of the windows and so . . .

Julia, the complete artist, is falling asleep next to me while "hiding" her small sketch book under the comforter. She said she wanted it there so she could draw first thing tomorrow morning. Whether she gets out of bed before she draws is my only question. And she told me that she was hiding the book -- I don't know how it is hidden if we both know about it.

I love that kid.

More often than not, when I come to get her after RE class, she is sitting with Erin, her aide, and a few other kids. I think they are the same kids. At least one is a boy who tells Julia how great her drawings are. And there is a little girl who seems to like Julia.

Please god, let her have friends!

Julia is now using numbers 1 through 20 with ease. Last summer, I worked on 1 through 6 with her, and she didn't always get it. She could count to 10 but did not always use from 6 to 10 practically.

I marvel at the opening of this mind. How much work with how many people, and still I consider it a miracle.

And so the "nice" shiksa mama lights the Hanukkah candles with her Chinese daughter preserving ancient family traditions. And no, I couldn't find our menorah. Where could it have possibly gone? It is usually with the candles and candle sticks and I can reach for it whenever I need it. Today. Nothing. But I had a full set of Hanukkah candles. Really pretty ones that I had bought for last year, except last year we had enough odds and ends from other years. (we almost never lit candles every night. There was dinner with some friends, or a night out for a movie. Something.) I opened the new box, and put two candles on a glass plate. And some chocolate coins -- gelt. And I said the barukh -- the blessing -- slowly so Julia could repeat it. She will be learning my poor pronunciation. It was a poor rendition of the beginning of the holidays but it was ours.

It is cold outside today. We came out of the front door to a lace of frost on the storm door and a drifting of flakes in the air. The steps are showing white trip in the cracks and crevices. I pull up Julia's hood over her hat and she shoves her mittened hands deep into her pockets. She looks both ways as we cross the street -- she still needs reminders but fewer and she both willing and more accurate at her looking. She is still enthusiastic in her greetings but some of her edge is rounded -- mellow enthusiasm? She announces that she loves the bus because it is warm. She has previously announced inside that her teachers have a hard time waiting for her to come to school in the morning. She tells me to smile and wave at her as the bus leaves and I obey.

Then I chat, very briefly on a cold morning, with the assembled parents, one of whom just started a new job and stands in stockings and heels. I re-cross the street and climb my stairs, open the door and smell the lovely warm remains of Julia bacon and egg breakfast. Warm, warm, and home. And I am thankful for such a precious morning.