For the last week, Julianna’s voice has been a tiny, high-pitched thing. She’s not sick, so it’s probably just the CMT doing its thing — again.
The other day, I told her that she sounds like a newborn kitten. Her eyes lit up with delight when she heard this, and it’s an accurate comparison. She communicates volumes in her little squeaks. She is a cute, curious and articulate little kitten.
The kitten voice hasn’t changed anything. She still has high standards and challenges me to be my best.
J: Mom, you’re a queen.
M: I am?
J: You should were a tiara.
M: Oh, well… maybe I’m off duty.
J: avoids eye contact — You’re off duty most of the time.
M: Julianna! Well, I don’t really know how to be a queen. How do I do it?
J: sighs. It’s complicated.
She continues to combines imagination with — a little mockery?
I knock over one of her lamps. There’s always too much stuff in her room!
J: What’s that? An avalanche?
She’s also kind of a superhero. (The superhero world is a new discovery, but I think it’s always been part of her persona.) Recently, she told me how she would deal with ridiculous comments.
J: For important things that are bad, I’ll kick them, and say “Uh-huh.” Sarcastically. For things that aren’t important, I don’t say anything because they can think what they want.
Examples of “important things that are bad”
- people who says that J is not important
- people who don’t understand that a mermaid’s tail needs to stay wet
And the stuff that’s not important? “People who say I’m not pretty.”
(Sarcasm for the important things, silence for things that don’t deserve a response: perfection.)
“I miss my old voice,” she said. “But I like this one too.”
This is how our little girl with her little voice fights, with imagination and spirit. Against these things, CMT has done nothing.
2014 (not sure what happened in 2013…)
We have hope because the battle has already been won.