Walking On The Moon

"da da la ma nocking on the-moon."
(instrumental refrain)

"baa baa baaa naaa moon"
(instrumental)

"naaa naa leds don't break....maaank on the moon."
(percussion)

I was treated to sounds of those melodic choruses drifting up to the front seat of my van on Thursday. Melodic? You ask. Yes. Indeed, very melodic. My lips curl upward in satisfaction as I recall those magic moments, now, as I am writing about them. We've come a long way, the Peanut and I. I marvel at what she has managed to accomplish, in such short order.

Thinking back to October of 2006, I remember an angry, out of control, constantly agitated little girl with quick blue eyes and snarled blond hair. A little girl who rarely talked in intelligible phrases (unless you were me who was listening, of course), and who could not attend to a single task long enough to remotely come close to mastering it. I remember a little girl who sent me into paroxysms of guilt or frustration, and often had me in the grips of depression--all over the worry I felt for her and her (lack) of development. October of 2006 was nearing the end of the last six months of total darkness that I staggered through day after day, parenting an Autistic child with little or no hope. What a terrible thing to admit to, but it is cathartic to do so.

The Peanut has made such incredible leaps and bounds in her growth and development. When we had her formally evaluated (a year from this past January) by the E.S.D. for her speech and cognition, she ranked equal with that of a child aged 1 year and 9 months. That meant my daughter, who was nearly 3, was on par with a typically developing child aged 1 year 9 months for speech, logic, communication, and overall cognition. I remember the day I got the results, I knew she was low, but I had no idea she was that low. What a blow. To come back to the point, peanut is growing and accomplishing in quantum leaps. She is nearly on par with her typically developing peers (low-normal range) in speech, and cognition and problem solving abilities are steadily coming along. I am so proud of her. I am so proud of us, the Peanut and I, as a team.

It is amazing how, when you find the appropriate therapies, you can help your child to grow. We have searched (and continue to do so) for therapies and interventions that will allow my little love to grow, catch-up, and to develop so that she can reach her full potential as a human being. We have a long way to go, but the little singing episode, from the back seat of my car, sure was a great barometer of how far we've already come.

Before, Peanut couldn't say 'ma-ma', and now she loves to sing along to The Police from the back seat. (we listen to kid music all the time, too, but every now and again mommy needs to hear something other than "...old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O..."). The human brain is such an amazing organ, and my little Peanut's brain is no exception.

So, while Sting sang of feeling alone in the song, hearing my beautiful girl sing the chorus made me feel like I was walking on the moon--not in solitude or from feeling isolated, but from such joy at hearing all that my little love can do. Days like today are precious jewels that I hoard, in my memory, for the 'other' days; days where I hope those hundred million bottles will, for me, wash up on the shore.