Sleepovers and Accidents

Tomorrow, me and my girl are having a girls night in! I asked her if she would ever consider having a sleepover with a friend, and she told me that she'd like to have a sleepover with me. Well, I think this is a brilliant idea. Her Aspergers may keep her from wanting an actual other human being around her all night, but damned if we'll let that stop us.

There will be chips and dip, ice cream (of course!), strawberry lemonade - Emeril Lagasse's recipe - with flat water rather than sparkling water (as bubbles in her drinks aren't at all pleasurable for her). Such a wonderfully girly drink, no? And daddy will be bringing home an olive and green pepper pizza after work. We are going to play dinosaurs, and I have picked a nice make believe game of hairdresser to play afterward. Then, to end the night, warm milk with maple syrup, while tucked under a quilt to watch "Ice Age - Dawn of the Dinosaurs" - her all time favourite movie.

No mommy duty tomorrow. Which is nice - I can forget about the fact that I somehow broke the garage door yesterday morning (repair man coming to see why the door is cracked at the top, and to see if the springs are about to . . . well, unspring). I can also forget about the fact that my  container of hand wipes leaked sanitizing fluid all over my cell phone, which is no longer turning on. My purse is a sopping mess, but at least it's clean. Oh, and did I mention that I accidentally smashed my husband's laptop into oblivion a couple of months ago by dropping a hand weight on it? And let's not forget the incident last month when I spilled hot coffee all over my laptop rendering my keyboard useless. My clever husband took the keyboard off his old laptop (you know, the one I smashed) and put it on my laptop. I do believe he is getting fed up with all my "accidents." 

Yup. Tomorrow I am a 5 year old girl at a sleepover. And no one can get mad at a 5 year old for accidentally breaking anything.

A Colour of Her Own

Last year, my daughter brought home the cutest little picture of a chameleon she had painted in her pre-kindergarten class. Splashed in the most glorious shades of pink, green, blue, and purple (in spectacular shiny paint!) I immediately fell in love with the painted creature, and hung it right above my computer.  Then, two days ago I saw this same little critter on the cover of a book! A trip to the library with my daughter revealed that this charming chameleon is actually a character in a children's book written by Leo Lionni, titled "A Color of His Own." A wonderful little story about a sad chameleon who wants nothing more than a colour to call his own. Desperate, he decides to plant himself on a green leaf, and never move again - he will be a green! But, autumn comes, the leaf turns yellow and red, and the chameleon is sad again. That is, until another chameleon comes along. The two (happy) friends set off together, proud of who they are.

Reading the little fable, I realized something about my little girl, who has Aspergers. She has never been like other girls her age. Ever. Well, except for the fact that her favourite colour is pink. Most little girls like dolls, and babies. Princesses, puppies, ponies, and bunnies all come to mind. You know - sugar and spice and everything nice? Well, my girl likes dinosaurs. She almost can't stand how cute they are. She plays carnivores trying to eat herbivores, and the herbivores protecting themselves with all that nature has given them - horns, spikes, club tails, armoured bodies. You will hear her in her room, roaring like a dinosaur for most of the day. And she won't go anywhere without a dinosaur or two clutched in her hands. 

Here is the worst part. When her obsession with dinosaurs started a year ago, I did everything in my power to dissuade her from it. I told her to put the dinosaur toys away at the store, and I would point her in the direction of the "girl" toys. I even went as far as to tell her that dinosaurs were for boys (gasp!) Shame on me. I was making her sad, just like the chameleon in the story. I wanted her to be the same colour as all the other girls around her. But, her colours are different. And I can't imagine how I must have made her feel by telling her she needed to change her colours. I mean really, it's probably going to be difficult enough for her to fit in, without mommy telling her she needs to try harder.
Won't. Happen. Ever. Again.

She has yet to find her other chameleon, but she will. And she will be happy because she will find someone with colours like hers. In the meantime, mommy and daddy are here loving her colours.  And if you ever happen to walk by our colourful little house, you will probably  hear three little dinosaurs happily roaring inside.