My Daughter: The Compliment Queen

The other day I was watching the TV show "America's Got Talent." They are in the auditions phase so there are really good acts and ones that are not as good. One that the producers chose to highlight was of a man who gives out compliments. That's his shtick so to speak. Unfortunately, he will not be making it to the next round. The judges were not impressed.
As I watched his act, I couldn't help but to think of my daughter. I affectionately call her The Compliment Queen. She feels it is her civic duty to compliment small children and ladies.
When she was around five or six, I tried to curb this a bit by saying, "It's OK if you don't compliment everyone." Her response was, " But mom how will they know their (purse, doll, dog etc.) is amazing if I don't tell them?" I was dumbfounded, and still am today, as to how to answer that question. Instead, I keep close tabs on her. I've also given her a few rules.  One of these is that she make sure it is alright with me before approaching the  intended recipient of her compliment.
My whole week was made yesterday when she made a little girl's day. We were finishing up eating at a fast food restaurant, when a young family arrived. I noticed that their daughter had a disability, but I wasn't certain if my daughter had. Still, I wondered what compliment she was ready to hand out. I could tell that she wanted to engage this family in a conversation, however, they were at the drink station filling up their drink cups. My daughter glanced at me before going over to them. I explained that it wasn't the right time. Thankfully, she complied and finished her own taco. Soon it was time for us to leave. I'd completely forgotten about this young family. My daughter, on the other hand, had not. After throwing her trash away, she slipped over to them and declared, "Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you that you are rocking those hearing aids." That phrase was music to my ears. I think the family was a little shocked that my daughter, who looks perfectly normal, would say something so kind. What they didn't know is that my child has her own disabilities that are often invisible to most people.
As we exited the restaurant, I made sure to give my Compliment Queen her very own compliment for brightening that family's day.
One day my daughter may not give as many compliments as she does now. That will be a sad day in my book. In the meantime, I will appreciate and applaud her efforts. May there be more humans in the world like her and the Compliment Man.

When a Mommy Friend Understands What It’s Like to Parent a Special Needs Child

Many parents of special needs kids talk about how they need people to be supportive of their situation. I find that especially true since I am a parent of a child with the dual diagnoses of bipolar disorder and autism. Having a child with these invisible disabilities, ones where a child looks like a normal child, but responds to her world very differently from most, can be very isolating. I’m happy to say that I have found a person who is not related to me by blood, but who has embraced my family as her own.

This afternoon I was at my best  friend’s house sitting around her kitchen table chatting with other moms. Eventually the topic of children came up. One thing led to another and I found myself telling the other moms our story.  One mom in particular wanted to know how my daughter was diagnosed. She also wanted to know what were the signs that something was amiss. Before I could even speak up, my best friend spoke and explained things so eloquently. She told of my daughter’s sensory issues and mood swings. Another mom who has met my child uttered the famous “But she doesn’t look autistic!” line. My wonderful friend rose to the occasion and replied, “That’s just it, you might see a child like Princess in the store and think, ‘Boy, that child is a brat!’” She went on to explain how everyone needs to be more accepting of children like Princess. People need to show kindness not judgment.

 As the conversation progressed, and I shared more of our story, I couldn’t help but be grateful that my best friend truly “gets it.” She understands the challenges my child faces on a daily basis. She knows the lengths that I have gone to to get my child the help that she needs. She even remarked, “I knew that Cate needed a friend who would stand by her side. I decided to be that friend.”

As the afternoon turned to evening, I gathered my things to head home. On the way out the door, I told my friend how much I appreciated her support. Her response solidified what a great friend she is, “If people are going to come to my house, they need to know how to support you. If not, they will not be welcome because you are my family.”  That is the sign of a true friend. I may have shed a tear or two on my drive home.

My Best Friend and I

The Horrific Thing That Changed My Life

In August of 1979 I was a sad and lonely 14 year old girl just about to start my  freshman year of high school. A friend of the family had called my mom to ask if I could be the stand by babysitter for their daughter since they'd be going on a family vacation. My mom agreed to let me babysit in place of my friend. As it turned out this young family also attended a local church whose beloved pastor was leaving. The teens at the church wanted to attend the special service in his honor so I was asked to help out in the church's nursery that Sunday. At the time my family and I were not attending church anywhere and were not planning on anytime soon. That Saturday my mom drove me the route I'd be riding my bike to the next day.
The morning of this job went well except that I'd gotten a flat tire on the way. I stayed to babysit the babies and had lunch before calling my mom to come pick me up.
Once my mom and little brother arrived, my mom parked on the busy street because she didn't feel comfortable parking in a strange church's parking lot. My 13 year old brother tied the hood of the trunk of our sedan closed with rope that my mom had. My mom realized that it was dangerous for her son to be near oncoming traffic. She told him to step on the curb while she made sure my bike was secure. Just as she was tugging on the rope, a car came around the corner. Almost instinctively I knew this car was going to hit my mother. I remember watching it in slow motion. I felt helpless as it careened into the person I loved most in the world. After the impact, my little brother and I bounded over a small hill that led to the church's parking lot. We screamed for help at the top of our lungs. Luckily for us there were still a few people milling about the church grounds. One of those individuals was named Steve and another was named Phil. I may have this wrong but I believe Steve applied pressure to my mom's leg to stop the bleeding until the ambulance arrived while Phil held her hand and assured her it would be alright. I don't recall if I rode in the back of the ambulance or my brother did. I do remember that somehow my older brother was contacted to come and get our car. He drove it to the hospital where we all waited for news of our mother. It seemed like hours later before the surgeon emerged to give us an update on my mom.
That was the first of 14 surgeries that my mom endured while they saved her leg. There were many times during my freshman year that I had to go to school while my mom was on the operating table. Plastic surgery and skin grafts became a common occurrence during my mom's lengthy hospital stay.  One surgery was to install the Hoffman Device, a series of pins and screws that goes through the bone and is visible on the outside as well. She was the first patient at our local hospital to have it.
The man who hit my mom felt remorse. He called my mom at the hospital to tell her that he was sorry. He said he couldn't sleep at night. My mom told him that she could not sleep either. It was later determined that he was driving his ex-wife's car while on Valium. My mom's lawyer settled for a good amount that allowed our family to get off of welfare. This was a huge blessing in disguise.
Another wonderful thing that happened is that most of my family started attending church again. Many people from that church came to see my mom in the hospital. It surprised all of us because we didn't even know these people. They also sent many many cards. Shortly after the accident, someone invited my brothers and I to attend their church. There is one family in particular that faithfully drove my younger brother and I to church every single Sunday.
When my brother and I wanted to attend their youth group events, someone made sure we got rides there and back. This church family embraced my family. Eventually I decided to become a Christian and follow after Christ because these strangers had become like family to me. They showed me what true love is really all about.
While I was attending this church I became a Sunday School helper, nursery worker and babysat for many of its young families. It was there that I found my passion for children and teaching. Many of the church members had attended Biola University so I too decided that's where I'd like to go to college. It was no small miracle that I was able to attend this very expensive university for four and a half years to complete my bachelor's degree.
What really strikes me as funny in all of this is that I only attended that church for four years but because its members made such an impact on my life, it seems like it was so much longer. God used a tragedy in my life to give me hope, purpose and meaning.

My mom and I a few years after her terrible accident.

Embracing My Daughter's Compassion

Ever since Princess was little she's had a very big heart. Whenever someone is hurt or crying, she's the first one to run to their side. There were many times when she was younger that she'd actually ask a stranger if she could pray for them. She's the kid who always asks how someone got injured.
I remember one time when Princess was in preschool that she wasn't so kind. The director of the school called me to come get my child because she had bit another child very hard. Miss Sally was very concerned because it appeared that Princess was not upset by what had happened. I believe that Princess did not possess the words to express herself. Even though she was a very verbal child with a huge vocabulary, she did not know how to apologize for her actions. That came across as a lack of remorse. Over the years Princess has brought up this incident numerous times.  She does feel compassion and is quite shocked that she inflicted pain on another classmate.
This scene played out many times. Princess would injure a child, lack the ability to feel remorse in the moment but then later express concern for her fellow classmate.
Instead of focusing on Princess' aggression, I chose to focus on her compassion. Before Disneyland raised their Annual Passholder prices out of our pocket book range, Princess and I were AP's for about five years.  We'd go to The Happiest Place on Earth once or twice a month. One day when she was around seven I decided to capitalize on Princess' kind words. I took her to City Hall on Main Street to get her an Honorary Citizen badge. I told her that she was an Ambassador of Good Cheer at the park for the day. She took her job seriously. Every time we saw someone with a birthday, engagement or My 1st Visit button; Princess would acknowledge them accordingly. People were shocked but generally thrilled.
My acceptance of Princess' unique ability to cheer people up did not come overnight. For a very long time I was annoyed by it. It took us more time to get to our final destination when we were out in public. Plus when Princess was greeting or praying for others, I had to engage as well. I am a pretty friendly person by nature but my daughter takes kindness to a whole other level.
I still talked with her about her aggressive behavior. She received consequences for it at home as well. I just reminded her of the good feelings that making someone's day brought. I know that in the past 14 months Princess has made significant gains in all areas. These are mostly due to an awesome medication and a wonderful school. I can't help but to think that I helped in some small way by embracing my child's compassionate heart rather than shame her for it.

This is a picture of Princess at Disneyland when she was about five. She asked these random cast members to sign her autograph book and to pose for a picture with her.