Superhero is spending the weekend with my parents, so we took the twins out with us yesterday and today. Yesterday, we were house hunting, and today we were house hunting and going to yard sales (one of our favorite pass times!).
We took the boys to a sale at a church for lunch--in our area, almost every church sale has two things in common: extremely low prices and hot dogs :D So we had hot dogs for lunch. Fighter sat at the table, without complaint, and ate his lunch. He sat in a regular chair. He did not scream or throw food, make a mess, or even get up and run around. In fact, Artist got bored with lunch and ran off, with John going after him, while Fighter continued to eat. He chatted easily with the people nearby, asked me repeatedly for each item ("cookie pease" "chip pease" "water pease"), and said thank you after nearly every bite. It was such an enjoyable time that I didn't realize until we were leaving the significance of it--this is the first time that Fighter has eaten a 'typical' family meal with us, without being strapped into a high chair, without throwing food, without screaming or yelling or being otherwise inappropriate. The first time EVER.
I feel bad for Fighter that life seems so much more difficult for him than it is for the average child. But I am so grateful that his exceptionality allows me to appreciate the joys of a quiet lunch in a church basement--an experience I would have given little to no value to until today, when it's significance suddenly rivaled the Royal Wedding. Fighter's special brand of magic can elevate the mundane to the extraordinary, and I am a lucky, lucky woman to be able to share that magic.
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