Two.
Jelly entered my life at a difficult time, just before Moe's diagnosis. I worried I wouldn't love her like I love Moe. I worried she would get lost behind Moe's needs, his schedule, and my all-consuming worry for him.
I shouldn't have worried. From her first night in the hospital when she refused to sleep unless resting on my chest, she made herself known.
I recently heard a story that astounded me. Moe's speech therapist, JR, was at our local My Gym, where I also take Jelly. We go at a different day and time so I had no idea that JR went there. She was talking with the guy who runs the place about sign language with kids. He mentioned that he knows a little girl who uses more than 60 signs. JR realized that he must be talking about Moe's little sister. My little Jelly is already making a name for herself in the world.
Tonight (I'm writing this Thursday night) I will be putting together her dollhouse. I know most of my readers are parents of autistic kids, and so I know you understand the significance of giving a dollhouse to my little girl, who loves to pretend and feed her dolls and give them kisses and change their diapers.
Happy birthday, my sweet little girl. Don't grow up too fast.
