I like my eggs dippy.

Mr. Gatsby and Hubby have been at Autorama all evening, for the last two days. Mr. Gatsby is showing his car, for the first time. (I’m so proud of him and how he’s handled the challenges life has tossed at him.) The Princess is at work, apparently wearing a lot of coffee that exploded all over her. Meanwhile, I came home from work, really just wanting a box of mac and cheese, only to realize I had two extra humans I hadn’t planned on. Sooooo…. Table for 6 at Coney Island for dinner, please. This Mama is tired and breakfast for dinner, as long as it includes bacon, sounds like a fabulous idea.

When we met Sassy Britches for the first time, she basically didn’t speak. When we met for for the second time, she still, didn’t speak. The third time, well, you get the idea. This went on for a REALLY long time. She had zero opinions (that she was willing to verbalize) and would do pretty much anything to avoid speaking whenever possible. Now, there are some days I don’t think she can even stop herself from chatter. Frankly, she now struggles with knowing when it’s time to stop talking. English isn’t her first language, but she’s learning, and she has gotten a lot better at telling someone she doesn’t understand, signaling me to let me know or being honest when I ask her if she understands. Major progress! Today at dinner, she ordered her own meal. Something that never would have happened a few years ago. 

Waitress: How do you want your eggs?

Sassy Britches: (Looks at me, puzzled, because she has no idea what the words are for what she wants…) Then spits out, “Ummm dippy?”

We all had a chuckle, including her. A few years ago that would have been total shut down and maybe even tears. It’s the progress that took a very long time, and creative coaxing, but I’m so happy we got here. I wish more people knew to appreciate it and all the work she’s done. 

While having a conversation with my favorite Assistant Principal some time ago about Sassy Britches and her tardy sweep suspension, he tells me, “Oh, I know your daughter…” It was such a trigger for me that I couldn’t help myself. I told him he didn’t know a darn thing about my daughter. Rattled off a bunch of life facts, like where she spent the bulk of her life before he even encountered her and how she didn’t speak. Did he know English wasn’t even her first language? Did he know that she’s struggled and worked hard to overcome things that he wouldn’t even believe happen to people, let alone kids? He ended up admitting he didn’t “know” her. A hello in the hallway or a run in as part of a suspension, likely doesn’t give you a full picture of a person.

I don’t know how many times I’ve heard people spout off the quote:

“Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind.”

It’s easy to repeat those quotes. It is often significantly harder to live by them.