The woman sitting behind us on the plane has two kids under 3 and a dog with her.  She has one iPad that the two boys fight over.  I’m not sure what she is going to do when one of the boys needs to pee unless they are both in diapers.  There is no time when at least one of them -- boys, dog or mom -- is making more noise than is appropriate on a crowded plane.  The dog yips and moans without a minute's peace.  When a flight attendant asks if the woman has given the dog some sort of sedative, she says she doesn't believe in drugging her dog.  The boys seem happiest when they are kicking the backs of their seats which I suppose is another behavior their mother does not believe in dealing with.  

And all I can say is I am so glad to be finished with managing airplane behavior.  Julia plays with her iPad working at very hard endgrams or her knitting nellie or a dot-to-dot. Quietly and independently.  She complains a bit about the family behind us but I remind her that it was not so long ago that she could generate at least as much disturbance as the foursome behind us.  I wonder if I handled Julia's bad behavior as badly as this woman.  I try and fail to summon up enough loving kindness to project understanding and empathy. I may need another dozen or so years on the cushion to truly feel kindly towards the bubble of activity behind me.

We have had some good weeks with school beginning, a lighter therapy schedule, soft ball games to go to and cello lessons.  

We are not doing enough physical therapy since school began, but she does ride her bike while I walk the dog.  I hope we can get back to the therapy soon.  I need to scale back my expectation of 5-6 days a week.  Perhaps 3-4.  

Cello practice is taking the cello out of its soft case, fixing the tail piece (if that’s what it is called), tightening the bow hair, sitting with legs wide apart while cradling the instrument.  We practice a bow hold and I remember how Cheshire struggled in the beginning with a proper position.  Amazing how unintuitive a loose hand is.  She bows the strings trying very hard to bow one string at a time and to get some sound that isn’t gritty and scratched.  And then, she undoes the bow and the tail piece and puts all back in the case.  It is quite wonderful really.  I know it is just the first week but I am amazed that she does not complain.  Each day amazes me.

She continues to bring home chunky books and reads them with such determination.  She shares little bits of characters or cat warfare now and again.  Clearly, she is understand the broad story line.  Together, we are reading Gregor the Overlander.  Middle school fantasy.  I would have loved it as a kid.  She has not once voiced that she misses the pictures in books.  She is the driving forced behind this literary leap.  Perhaps her great range of abilities marks her as having an almost picture perfect autistic mind.  If so, this is an amazing brain.   I, with a pretty normal sort of brain, marvel at her compelling need to explore thick books and yet forget how to carry over in addition from one day to the next.  I am so much more familiar with the brain that develops rather evenly across the board and remembers bits of everything.