Oh.... I have a sign for you....

     My daughter signs.  She is getting really good at it, too... but no wonder as she refuses to speak.  And she can, speak that is, it's just that verbal communication is too boring... or beneath her.... or too frustrating.  Who knows, right?  At 18 months she only uses a handful of words consistently (by this point her brother was using complete sentences) but understands a whole lot of scary about what we say.  She gets it, but verbal communication isn't her bag, baby.  All Hubbs and I know is that teaching her to sign has been the difference between ear splitting shrieks of anger and frustration and fewer.  We are going with fewer.

     You know how some kids, when they learn that they can finally be understood by those lumbering food machines called adults, will use every opportunity to tell you as loudly as possible everything that they think?  Yeah.... she's not one of those BUT she WILL walk up to you, thump you on the chest with her fat little fist, and throw the "milk" sign at you like she is a Crip and you are a Blood and shit is about to go DOWN.  I have never been told "Now, bitch!" in such a quietly forceful way.  It is a little intimidating....

We have gotten no small amount of attention from strangers in public over this.  For example...

     Last weekend at the zoo, we had stopped to get lunch at their wonderful little cafe (with the badass hamburgers) but we had waited a little too long so the kids were completely batshit with hunger... you know.... because we OBVIOUSLY never feed them.  *sigh*  Hubbs went up to order and I sat with them at the table attempting to keep the situation under control.  Sass was his normal Speedy Gonzales of words and whining and Sprinkles decided to add her two cents.  "EAT!" she signed at me.  "EAT!  MILK!  FOOD NOW!", while thumping the table for emphasis and punctuation.  Being a natural hand talker I told her "Wait" and pointed to Hubbs in line up front,  "Daddy is coming soon." I spoke to her.  Not pleased with my answer she kept up with the signing with an angry face and a few guttural shrieks thrown in for good measure.  I began to roll my eyes until I noticed one of the Yuppie Moms (yeah, I judge like that.  When you have the perfect ponytale, a monogrammed and quilted diaper bag, with eight screaming and incredibly unruly kids, I am just going to assume you are hauling this hot mess back to a White Esclade and let's be done with it.) having one of those "that kid is "different" but don't stare" moments with her child.  Ponytale looked up and saw me watching.  She gave me a sweetly conspiratorial smile and turned back to her boy for a hug.  What the....?  Wait.  She thinks my kid is deaf?  And that was one of those "The More You Know" CBS syrup moments?  Huh...  

     It wasn't that she thought Sprinks was deaf that made me want to get all bitey (if she was, we would learn sign language and move on) it was the smile afterward.  It was... condescending and pat-you-on-the-head belittling.  It was "Aren't I Such a Good Parent For Explaining This Unfortunate Situation To My Sweet Baby Boy".  It made the hair on the back of my neck stick up and my hackles rise.  Is this how it is for families with children who have disabilities?  How do you not kill folks?  You are saints!  You are amazing!  Why are playgrounds and PTA meetings not covered with the broken bodies of parents like Ponytale?  I would call it justifiable ...   I was a hairs breadth from standing up and pulling something primal... but then the food came... so I didn't.  And because we are, after all, somewhat civilized.  *growl*

But you see Ponytale, it's not me you have to worry about....  She's fierce.