Cool.

And lo, there was brunch.

it feels all exposey

You okay? I will admit to being totally self-centered today.

I'm good.

I bought these shoes [link] and these [link] shoes. I wore the brown/red ones today and my feet are torn up. I thought Clarks were supposed to be comfy. I love both pair of shoes. Dang.

But they're so cuuuuutteeeeeeeee?!?!?

I know, right??? Why do they have to be hurty?

I realize that I am seriously lacking in one of the girl genes, but cute doesn't outweigh hurty for me.

Still, they're cute...

So cute yet so hurty.

It's like they're boys.

I can't decide which of the Gothic Charm School items to buy. Guess I'll be buying several.

And that swirly bat is the first design I've seen that I would actually get a tattoo of (committment issues).

I can't sleep.

I haven't talked much about Annabel's continued lack of speech lately because I'd finally managed to genuinely convince myself it wasn't a problem--that she gave all other evidence of being a bright, normal child and would talk when she was good and ready. But the fact of the matter is that she's plateaued. She isn't talking any more now at 18 months than she was at 15.

Last night Dylan brought up the possibility that, based on Annabel's behavior patterns and our own backgrounds/issues, she might be somewhere on the autism continuum, as something we should look into just in case so she can get early intervention if there's an issue. I won't go into our whole discussion, but suffice it to say that all sorts of things that I thought of as neutral or good qualities now seem, when coupled with what now does qualify as a genuine language delay, like a potentially frightening pattern: 1) Her independence, the fact that she doesn't seem to need or even want a lot of interaction and snuggling. 2) A certain fascination with organizing her world--taking pieces of a puzzle out and lining them up in a row, putting them back, then repeating the process again and again, or stacking up giant legos of like shape and/or color, or spending a long time arranging and re-arranging groupings of similar objects. Before tonight I'd looked at that as a sign of spatial intelligence, that maybe we had a future engineer or architect on our hands, but apparently that kind of behavior can be a sign of autism. 3) She's not the most empathetic kid ever. It's not that she's never shown empathy--that first time we were in Alabama this summer, when Dad was still alive, she'd sit in his lap for long stretches of time, while when anyone else attempted it she'd be squirming to be down running around within minutes. But she doesn't start crying because other kids do, and never has. And times when she's pulled my hair or squashed my breast enough that I yell "ow!", she seems to find it more funny than sympathy-enducing. 4) She's not frightened when we show anger and often seems downright amused by it. Before I thought that meant we're doing something right--that we're angry rarely enough that she doesn't know what it means, or else that she knows we love her and would never hurt her. But now I wonder if it means she's not picking up on the emotional cues. 5) In general, she's one unflappable kid. I'd thought that was a virtue--that I had a brave, calm girl on my hands--but now I'm wondering if she's just lacking the emotional range she ought to have.

None of which would be scary without the language thing, but I think it's safe to say now that she does have a language issue. It could be a perfectly normal case of late talking, or it could be motivated by a physical issue like her lingering tongue tie or a mild hearing impairment (I know she's not deaf, but one of her other quirks is that loud noises don't especially perturb her, so I occasionally wonder if her hearing is below average). But it could also be part of a pattern.

She has her 18-month physical on Thursday, and I'll bring up these issues with her doctor. Also, there's an autism study at UW looking to enroll toddlers and offering evaluations, so we're going to look into that. But I need something to help me get past the fears that are currently eating me, and I'm typing this post because I figure just googling "autism" is the worst thing I could do for my sanity right now.

The specter that's keeping me awake is the thought of the more extreme forms of autism--the thought of having a child who seems utterly disconnected from the world, who isn't really here with us. If it's something milder--if maybe she needs treatment or therapy, but is ultimately going to learn to talk, learn to read, and generally be *here*, or if she's just showing early signs of being a more or less antisocial geekish sort--well, then that's just one of those things, and something I know I'm more than capable of managing and (continued...)