another little piece of my heart

thrown right back in.

her world is so tough. but i'm so proud of her.

we were at a birthday party for her "best friends" brother. best friend is in quotes because it should be. it's a label. it's become something that is said, something with out much meaning- or maybe extreme meaning. maybe to her it means 'long time friend' or 'i know you'll be in my life forever because our parents are best friends'. but it's not best friends. it's not reciprocal. it's not real.

the last few times we've been over their house, there have been problems. trouble for zoe navigating social situations- neighborhood kids- newness- non-predictability. today there were two groups, the big kids and the little kids. the little kids were the less than seven year olds- the friends of the birthday boy. the big kids were zoe, her "best friend" and two other 11 year olds- and they were to help out.

deep breath. sigh. batten down the hatches. this could be a disaster. or maybe not. maybe there is hope. maybe things will go smoothly. maybe it won't be so bad. this is me- like a running tape inside- background noise. makes it hard to have a meaningful conversation. hard to be light and happy. because i have my running tape and my senses are on high level-listening for sounds of trouble- eyes sideways glancing for her- to check- waiting. then another tape starts. can't you just relax and live? can't you just enjoy this? it will be OK- it's not that big of a deal. separate yourself. just be.

things were OK for her for most of the party. she was on the outside looking in but she didn't get upset. she struggled to fit into the mix- but pulled back when she needed to. i was OK too, although it's always hard to watch the gap- the gap between where she is and other 11 year olds are. to see them role their eyes or chuckle when she says something and watch her not notice.  to hear them talk about the Friday Night Skate and who is going with who- while zoe sits trying to engage a 4 year old in a puzzle. God bless her.

but then, the ending was sad.

the big kids were downstairs- listening to music. we could hear them laughing and singing. and i was so happy for her. she loves music. she loves laughing. she loves being with people. it's just hard for her to understand the subtleties- to know the meaning behind the angle of someones eye or mouth- those slight difference that communicate worlds without words. and when words don't sound bad- and non-verbal communication is lost-it can get ugly.

the grownups were upstairs and up comes zoe doing her rendition of a chicken dance. kind of funny - we've seen it before- kind of inappropriate. as we tell her this- she says, "one of the kids said he'd pay me 5 dollars to come up stairs acting like a chicken and not come down for 10 minutes."

crack. ouch. little break in my heart.

i told her that they weren't being nice- because it just flew out of my mouth. because it wasn't and i couldn't help letting her in on it. but i think inside she already knew this because immediately she started to cry. it was like the feeling was in there, but she'd gotten lost in the forest of what the words themselves said and what could be behind it. at face value it sounded good to her. a dare. i'll get 5 dollars to do this. what was lost was the tone of voice, the reason behind the request, the goal of exclusion.

so much of what is said, is what's not said. our words are so limiting. the way our mouths shape them and the way our eyes help speak them, and what we do with our hands while we talk- there are volumes in those moments. it's amazing that we can speak with out speaking. communication is powerful- even with different languages like in Ethiopia - or no language at all like my patient yesterday. unless you don't get it. unless you can't speak non-verbal. unless for some reason your brain doesn't process that way.

ouch. crack. another little piece of my heart now baby.