Hey there, January.

It’s 2013.

Sit on that one for a minute. I know we’re writing it and inching into February already, but if you were born sometime in the last century, just think about the fact that we are in the year two-thousand and thirteen.

I’m having flashbacks to all the sci-fi and future dystopian stories and it’s a little like a tunnel is flying past and how in the hell am I getting closer to 2020 and further from 1998?

I need to stop before I start sounding like my dad.

So, January came and it’s gone and it was good. We started on the same high note as we did last year with another A.Skate clinic and trip to this year’s Surf Expo with the A.skate group. It was just as amazing as last year, and I’d say we even upped the awesome with an older, and more attentive Mr. Pheeny. He was into it. Saying “skateboard” and putting the phrases he knows to use like, “Whoa! That was close!” and “We can do it!” He was a regular motivational poster.

And Saturday at the Surf Expo:

Again, I just can’t come up with the words to express how awesome this foundation is and how much they do for our kids. We’re stragglers on the outside of the mainstream, and if 2012 taught our circus anything it was how to to keep swimming, but to have this little pocket of time where we’re surrounded by parents who wear a knowing smile and kids just bursting with that familiar hyper excitement, and you remember that sometimes you simply don’t need the words.

Mr. Pheeny was all over the ramps and wanted to shoot right for the highest ones, and when I said for mountains to watch out for this kid, I didn’t mean this literally. But, then again, this is my kid. Literal bugger, that one is.

We were advised that with kids like Phoenix you just gotta suit ’em up and let them go, because they’re the ones who don’t have that inherent fear of the ramps. We really weren’t kidding about those mountains last year.

With January comes grapefruits in our tree. My least favorite citrus, and I’m a girl who LOVES her citrus, but that’s the comedy of life. Punchlines galore!

Also? We got a stomach bug.

I say we when it was more like mostly Mr. Pheeny, but I was down in the trenches right with them and got hit with plenty of shrapnel. When he’s sick he’s all about the couch and his mama. The boy towers most kids his age, but he’s a softie when it comes to his old lady. I’ll soak that in while I can.

His language has also been BOOMING. It’s an odd thing this autism. People wonder and ask if a child is nonverbal when they see them not communicating in a typical way, and I can’t really answer that he’s nonverbal anymore. Because he’s not. The child does not stop talking, but it’s not conversational. Not in the way you’d think, and not in the way that he’s just saying off the wall things. Phoenix speaks in very specific, literal, and tangible terms. Our verbal language with him is corralled within the confines of the ideas he knows. The ones he has turned to brick and mortar and have been secured with his own hands. When we take steps beyond those ideas and terms and phrases we always use what’s already in place to connect it back to what he knows. Most of our questions are still answered by repeating the question back to us, but more and more we’re getting answers. Basic one word replies, but they’re his and they’re telling us in some way how he’s feeling. That’s a parade. That’s a dance party in the middle of the street. That’s confetti and stupid grins. We celebrate it all.

Sissy Girl danced her way through the month as usual.  She’s got way too much sass, but damn, does the girl make me laugh. I have no idea where she gets the truck loads of attitude that she’s packing. But, oh, she gets me with the dancing. She stops in the middle of whatever she’s doing when a song comes on, and she insists on every last fool in the room dancing with her. I’ve been waiting for this girl my whole life.
Much like another girl once upon a time, she talks too much, and is now in the phase of asking me WHERE EVERYONE IS.

“Mama! Where Daddy? Mama! Where Titi? Mama! Where Phoenix?”
“I don’t know, Lucy. They’re at work. Go get a job.”
Craig has been building more and more stuff, and I’ve gotten a bedframe and some shelves out of him for my kitchen crap. There’s something to this whole having a handy husband thing. You will not get a complaint from me.
And it’s good to see him find something that’s his. Something tangible he can see in his mind and then make. A lot like Phoenix, come to think of it. Pilgrims, all of them.

And me? Well, I’m still writing. Put one project away and finishing another. We’ll see, yeah? 

 We’re jumping headfirst into the new year. May it bring more dancing and more mountains.

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