Today’s post is brought to you by the letter J and…
JONALYN
Anyone who has been following my blog for a while knows all about my sweet Jonalyn. For those of you new here, I’ll give a quick recap before sharing a funny story about her. My youngest daughter, who turns 9 in a few weeks, spent the first 5 years in an orphanage in the Philippines. After we brought her home, we discovered that along with the minor physical challenges we had been expecting, she has moderate to severe cognitive delays. She will be our “lifer”. Attachment took a long time and it was a hard road, but we are now settled as a family and in love with our daughter. She is the happiest child you’ll ever meet with a sweet disposition, even if she can be a little stubborn at times.

O.K., now for the funny Jonalyn story. In the quest to make her as independent as possible, we are teaching her to lock and unlock bathroom stall doors. So far, so good. Before church on Sunday, we stopped in the restroom and she locked herself in the stall.
“Good job, Jonalyn”. I heard her go and then silence. “Are you done?”
“No. I pooping.”
Not what I really wanted to hear from her in a public restroom. “O.K. Finish up.”
Pause. “I done.”
“Now you have to get off the toilet and open the door so I can help you wipe.”
I watched through the crack. She didn’t get up. “Come on, get up and open the door.”
No movement.
“Jonalyn, you have to get up.”
At last she did and she fiddled with the lock but didn’t open it.
“Slide it the other way.”
Other ladies came and went. Strange, but I got no sympathy. Or offers of help.
“The other way. You have to open the lock for me. Please.” Someone was in the next stall, so I was nice. By the time she left and we were alone, my patience was running low.
“Jonalyn. You have to listen. Turn it the other way. Not that way. The other way. Do it. Now.”
“I can’t.”
Fabulous. Just fabulous. Mind you, I had on a dress and heels. I looked around. The bathroom was empty except for a girl with her panties around her knees locked in the bathroom stall and her dressed-to-the-nines middle-aged mother.
I did it. I had to do it. I hiked up my ruffled hem and crawled under the stall door. On my hands and knees. It’s a small stall. Very small. I had a hard time getting off the floor and turning myself around. Said child with the pulled down panties didn’t help me or get out of the way. With relief, I managed to maneuver enough to stand. Success. Thank the Lord, no one else came in the bathroom during my ordeal.
The kicker?
I looked in the toilet and the kid didn’t poop!!

Just a little glimpse into what life is like with a special needs child in general and Jonalyn in specific.

To read more a2z posts, hop on over to Patty’s blog.