Highly Sensitive Soul

Quinn has always amazed me. Of course I'm overwhelmed with the miracle we've been given. Naturally I'm absolutely smitten with my child. But there's more. I enjoy watching him grow--watching the complex science behind the act of learning. From his first days, learning to suckle, then learning how to grasp, coo, crawl, walk. All those milestones that children move through. It was clear that he was a perfectionist, even as a baby. When he hit a milestone, he hit it with absolute perfection. When he crawled--he just crawled. When he walked, he just walked. In his mind, he practiced it a hundred times. When he acted out the maneuver, it was if he had been doing it for a long time. He went from flat on the floor to crawling everywhere in minutes. His first step was steps, and he never turned back. I was a bit sad to see that perfectionaism--what a curse it could be. And seeing his personality emerge was amazing. As a baby, he showed empathy very young. Watching his crazy cool sense of humor emerge. Seeing that light bulb come on upon the discovery that his actions can make others smile and laugh. Watching his groove come through. The kid's got rhythm. He can feel the music in his soul. It's simply amazing watching all of this emerge over the past 4 1/2 years. I've been troubled by his responses to loud noise, to startles, to his slow adaption to new things. I worried about his verbal skills. I worried about autism. I'm sure all parents do this. I know the odds are against us to have an absolutely healthy child. We are older parents. I read about it. I am a researcher. I love to read about things. I love to find the reason behind things. I happened upon a concept, a label, called Highly Sensitive Children. It's not a condition, nor a disorder. It's simply a personality. One that requires special handling. One that requires people in the child's life to be dedicated to that child's needs. From what I've read 15-20% of children are considered HSC. There's a list of traits. Quinn pegs many of the traits. He hates loud noises, crowds, chaos, startles. He must have his shoes on very tight, and his watch. His clothes, particularly his shirts, must fit perfectly. He notices every little change. I move an item on the shelf--he notices. A dog farts across the room, Quinn smells it. He has to smell me to center himself. I know this sounds weird, but he's done it for as long as I can remember. He must have my hair in his hands when we are sitting together. He is very keen to sense how people respond to him. He is incredibly empathetic with his friends. He calculates the risk associated with every move. When his feelings are hurt, they are really hurt. The pain is very real to him. He is shy. He is particular with tastes. Unfortunately, I've created a child whose palette prefers real food rather than processed food. He dislikes candy. Some would call him picky, difficult to please, wimpy, a cry baby. Some don't have a lot of patience for him. I see all of this as an incredible gift. He is incredibly creative, and imaginative. He's emotional and feels the emotions around him. I've never had to child proof a thing. He's had the aversion to danger forever. He'll never be that kid who jumps off a cliff because his friends are. His sense of danger will force him to turn away. When I was pregnant with Quinn, I imagined a little boy on the ice, playing hockey at the age of 3. Quinn will never play hockey. He'll probably never play soccer. He will change the world though-even if it his little world. He will make a significant impact to all that take the time to get to know him. He is a pretty cool little guy. I am dedicated to ensuring he always has the best, while nurturing the unique soul that he is. I will go to the end of the earth, and sacrifice much, to ensure he is able to be the soul he was intended to be. That's my job and my life's priority. I'm so thankful to have that as my job.

Love....

I love mornings. I don't like those initial moments when I have to get out of bed, but once I'm up I love the quiet pre-dawn moments in my day. I love sunrises too. It reflects great promise for the day. I love the smell of dog feet. And the sound of dog feet on the floor. I love good coffee. It's worth pressing every day--no question. I love preparing a good meal, and love people eating it--and showing a little appreciation for it. I love the outdoors. I love waking up in a tent, and fishing at sunrise and sunset, and anytime through the day really. I love walking through the woods, exploring under rocks, in trees, in logs. I love Eastern US woods. Mountain woods are not so exciting. But I do love the mountains. I love being an advocate for things I hold special--children, animals, human rights, equality. I love feeling passionate about these things. I love not caring what other people think about how I'm passionate about these things. I love reveille and retreat. I love serving my country. I love my country. I love military ceremony--respect for the colors, the songs, the sharpness of everything. I love my memories; even if they are unpleasant, they are mine. The good ones make me happy, the bad ones remind me of how I've become the woman I am today. I love me. I love who I am, the journey I have made, how I look, how I think. I'm not perfect and likely won't turn any heads as I walk by--but I don't care. I love fast cars. I love driving to work in the pre-dawn morning because I can really let my turbo work. I love the thrill. I love doing things "just because". I'll try anything once, if given the opportunity. I love knowing my way around a tool box. I've built a 6 foot fence, installed a sprinkler system, made all sorts of home repairs. I love the feeling of independence. I wish I knew my way around cars like I do tools of the home repair trade. I love organization and being organized. My world is right when things are in their place and my environment is clean. I've struggled as a married woman with letting this go. I haven't succeeded yet. I love my kid. I've done a lot of cool things in my 46 years. Nothing has been cooler than becoming a mom. I'm "that" person who is over-the-moon-goo-goo for her kid. And I don't apologize for it. For some, getting the mom title is easy. It wasn't for me. I love being a mom. I love being around other good moms. I don't love being around mediocre moms. It makes me too sad. Fortunately I know only a few mediocre moms. I love getting the point in an exercise routine that you feel the high. I don't get to this much since I barely have time to sleep right now. I love a good book. It's been a long time, but I'll get back to a good book. I love my husband. He is my baby's daddy and is a fantastic father. No matter how I behave, he still loves me unconditionally. He is a good man. I love a lot of things in this world; I take none of it for granted.