"She's so HAPPY!"

Very often, when we are out in public, a perfect stranger will comment about my little one, "She's so HAPPY!" I'm always confounded as to how it was intended. A compliment? An observation?

I'm super-ultra-mega-sensitive about my kids and about people's perceptions of them, so I often feel slighted by this comment. To me, its something people say about a severely special needs child for whom they have no other compliment. "But she's so HAPPY!" Like telling an obese girl she has a pretty face, the implication is that there is something wrong with everything else.

I know I sound crazy, and I do cop to having too thin a skin about this issue, but think about it: we comment on the main positive we notice. When our big girl was a baby, everyone commented on her big eyes. It hurts me that no one sees my little girl and offers compliments on her beauty, because she IS beautiful.

That being said, I also recognize that my chief dreams for my kids are for health and happiness. Not for beauty and mediocrity. Truly, if they are healthy and happy, I am (mentally) healthy and happy. If the little one stays happy, I will be thrilled beyond belief. She is a joy to behold.

Even a stranger can see.

"The only disability is a bad attitude"

Up at 5:30 this morning, pleased that I'd have some time to write this blog before the big girl got up. Full of inspiration and energy, I fed the little one, then sat down to write. And I couldn't log on. "Invalid password" again and again. I knew it was right. I just set up the account yesterday. I tried and tried and tried, to no avail.

Needless to say, my attitude needed an adjustment. Then, I read my dear friend's blog, in which she detailed her irritation and need for an attitude adjustment. Which reminded me of Scott Hamilton's words, "The only disability is a bad attitude".

I think I first came upon these words in the context of "special needs" kids. Conjuring images of the short bus and alienation. I am super sensitive about special needs. So sensitive that I'm not ready to write about it yet.

So for now, thank you M for reminding me that the color of my day is always in my hands. It was a hard day, but a pretty good one, and I can thank my pretty, funny, talented, runner-Mommy-writer friend for steering me in the right direction. M, you're an awesome person!

Oh, and the password? It was right. The login name (one that I chose only 1 day ago) was wrong. ENTIRELY my mistake. So, K, we all have blonde moments. And, S, I'm writing this fully dressed. I'll have to warm up to blogging before I let it all hang out...