One little thing out of many

I got an email from a friend today. We've been a bit out of touch, and he wrote that he's wanted to write for some time, about a lot of different things, but it's been so long and there's so much that he feels overwhelmed about it.

That's how I feel about this blog, and any writing that I don't "have" to do right now. I have several topics churning around in my head about which I'd like to write, but it just seems like so much to get started, and can I really take the time to do it? And wouldn't it be better to turn it into a column to be published? And on and on.

I wrote my friend that he didn't need to catch up, and to just start where he was. Pretty good advice (thank you, FlyLady!) So maybe a little dose of that is needed here.

One thing in my head pertains to this weekend's column, about Abby's not-so-secret admirer. I've been thinking a lot about this, and how happy it makes me, and feeling silly about the fact that it makes me so happy. I felt the same way about a similar situation for her two years ago, when she was in second grade. Why?

It doesn't hurt that "Friendly Boy," as I called him in the column, is a really, really nice kid. He's polite, neat, quick with a smile, and cute as a button, to boot. Combine that with not only his obvious affection for Abby, but how kindly he treats her, and it warms a mother's heart. It's adorable that Abby doesn't seem to notice, and even more adorable when I point it out to her (after the fact, of course) and she's obviously pleased.

But why am I so pleased?

The answer, I fear, has less to do with Abby, and more to do with me. On an interpersonal level, I'm so happy that boys notice her, and sadly, it probably has a lot to do with the fact that boys didn't like me when I was her age. Or at least I didn't recognize it.

This is not so healthy; I don't want to be a mom that lives vicariously through her daughter. Ick.

Another reason -- and this one isn't any nicer than the first -- is that I tend to see Abby as a collection of problems to be solved. Her Asperger Syndrome creates many challenges for her, and for 9 1/2 years, it's been up to Earl and me to find solutions for them. We celebrate her successes, of course, and there are many. But the challenges are still foremost in our minds.

This attention from Friendly Boy has allowed me to see Abby through someone else's eyes; someone who thinks she's great and who isn't aware of the challenges she faces. Or maybe he sees the challenges, and doesn't care. Either way, it pleases me to no end.

***
This is part of the reason why I haven't been blogging -- now the kids are up, it's noisy in the house, and everyone needs to get ready for school and work. So I need to end this now without a proper conclusion. So there it is. Draw your own conclusions, dear readers.