You Have No Idea

If you met Ladybug in person, you'd probably think she was charming. She's never very neatly dressed, but she'll curtsey to you as if she's a princess. Her conversation is remarkably articulate and expressive, although often a bit oblique: you're left feeling as if you're almost sure what she was talking about. She displays no shyness or fear of people, and gives out spontaneous hugs. You'd probably turn to me -- her mother -- and say, "What a sociable little girl!"

I'd smile back and say thank-you, and if Ladybug was present I'd say something nice so she could hear it. But you might wonder about the expression in my eyes -- as if I were thinking more than I was saying.

What I'm thinking is, You Have No Idea.

Because Ladybug was my first baby, I didn't know what was typical and what wasn't. She smiled at about six weeks and continued to smile a lot. She ate well. She was agile -- I remember watching her on her back, picking up a glass candleholder with her feet and transferring it to her hands without dropping it. She crawled right on schedule and walked by her first birthday. Any concerns I had, other moms assured me, "Oh, yes, my child does that, too!"

So there were lots of children who burst into hysterical crying when people applauded at church, or when somebody laughed too loud. There were lots of children who smiled but never laughed. There were lots of children who didn't want Mama to sit down and play with them. There were lots of children who didn't speak until age two and a half. The problem was, I never saw any of these other children, and life with my Perfectly Normal child was difficult.

We had Titan a year and a half after Ladybug, and that's when our suspicions were confirmed. Titan would laugh if we scrunched our noses at him. He had words for ball, bird, and bottle. (They were all the same word -- "Ba!" -- but that's not too bad for an 11-month-old.) He insisted on being played with, and loved nothing better than crawling up into August's lap. Even allowing for personality differences, it was obvious that Ladybug didn't process things the same way that Titan did.

As the two got older, they became very good playmates. Ladybug began to talk, and soon was speaking in complete thoughts. Possibly because of Titan's influence, she became less distant, more cuddly. Some things got easier. But she still ignored people, hated loud noises, and went into hysterical meltdowns over unexpected changes. By the time she was three years old, we seriously began reading up on autism.

Our research ruled out autism, and I looked into sensory disorders and Asperger's syndrome. About that time, however, Ladybug turned a corner. She began responding to people, playing with her friends, and handling new situations better. Over the next three years, we still had episodes and challenges, but for the most part she appeared to behave mostly normally. Maybe she outgrew it, we thought. Granted, we had to be careful how we said things to her, keep her from loud or too much activity, and we had to shield her from people -- mostly kids -- who overwhelmed her with attention. But that was second nature: we'd always done that. And she was so much better than she used to be.

Today, however, while was outside with the kids -- on a glorious 65-degree January day, thank you Southern weather -- my good friend said very hesitantly, "I'm concerned about Ladybug."

Her daughter is the same age as Ladybug, and we've been friends since our girls were toddlers. Furthermore, she teaches learning-disabled elementary children. If she had something to say, it was important. Even more reluctantly, she said, "I think... she displays signs of... Asperger's syndrome."

I almost laughed out loud. "Oh, you don't say?"

I'd taken all my concerns and questions, packed them into a box, and stuck it into the back of mind. Now, however, I think we need to revisit the whole issue. Should we have her evaluated and diagnosed? Get her involved in a developmental class? We're homeschoolers, so we're not quick to get our children into The System. But today, being able to talk about my concerns with someone who wouldn't dismiss them, I've realized how tiring it is to work, worry, and fret over Ladybug. Maybe there are ways I can help Ladybug face her challenges and understand her world, without getting frustrated with her.

Ladybug is a pretty little girl who enjoys her books, loves her siblings and friends, and is eager to be grown-up and helpful. Here's to choosing the path that will let her get the most out of her world.