Today is Schuyler's sixteenth birthday. I'm trying to wrap my brain around that, but it's daunting. My little girl is sixteen. Yeah, no, I'm still working on that.
Schuyler occasionally mentions driving, although she doesn't push it too hard. I think she understands that for a number of reasons, including the reality of her past and also very occasionally present seizures, she's not ready. She might be one day, but not today, and not soon. She gets this, and she's not in a hurry to get started.
Like any sixteen year-old, Schuyler is working out who she is, at her own pace. She's experimenting with her look, with her hair color and make-up and other things that are age appropriate. (Her latest thing is asking to shave the sides of her head, which is getting a chilly parental reception; I wouldn't expect that particular look to make its debut any time soon.) She's become a pretty dedicated hat wearer, and complains almost daily about how she's not allowed to wear them to school. She wears her Polymicrogyria Awareness pin on her favorite hat, and she kisses me and says thank you every time she sees me wearing mine, which is pretty much every day.
Schuyler hasn't had a first date yet, although we encourage her as much as we possibly can. She's shy, something she comes by honestly, and she doesn't even remotely understand the rituals of teen community. I'm not sure anyone truly does, but Schuyler REALLY doesn't get it.
People like to make the same dumb jokes about dad not being ready for his little girl to date. And that's fine, because that's our societal narrative. But if I could have any wish for my daughter now, it would probably be for her to find someone who gets her and who wants to unravel the mystery of Schuyler. At sixteen, it doesn't feel like this is imminent, but you just never know, I suppose.
Schuyler is building a peer group, maybe for the first time. It's almost exclusively special needs kids like herself, and she's learning to navigate everyone's differences the same as the rest of us. It's tempting to imagine kids with varied disabilities coming together as a group naturally, and in some ways that's exactly what happens. Outsiders find their own. But there are bumps in the road, and she's learning to deal with those. I think she's doing pretty well.
Schuyler at sixteen is a girl who lives behind electronic screens, which is not particularly unusual for a girl her age. I sometimes worry about that, but those screens are her path to a larger world, for assistive speech tech and social media and direct communication through texting. I'll accept excessive Netflix as the price we're willing to pay for that.
At sixteen, Schuyler loves all things Star Wars. She likes manga and anime (I'm assured that these are different things) and putting on headphones to sing along to her music without reservation, often without awareness of how loudly she's belting it out. Unlike her earlier years, however, she doesn't particularly care when you point it out to her. Schuyler's got to sing. Everyone else needs to deal with that.
She still giggles when she sees a boy she likes. She epitomizes uncool in those moments.
She asks a lot of questions, even though I tell her she has to pay me a dollar if she asks ones I've already answered. (She's running up a tab.)
Schuyler has declared herself an agnostic, saying that she mostly believes in God, but thinks the Jesus story is silly. That hasn't changed in a few years, so I imagine she might just stick with that perspective for a while.
She wants to learn to cook. I'm hopeful that she wants to learn to clean, too, but you know.
She also wants to become a DJ, with the name DJ Space Monkey.
Schuyler still laughs loudly, runs and jumps around vigorously, touches the people she loves without hesitation and sometimes without much in the way of boundaries. She talks during movies in a stage whisper that isn't even remotely quiet. Being with Schuyler is a very physical and not at all subtle experience, something that no doubt comes from so many years of having to employ physicality in her communications. We try to help her adjust to a more polite community around her, but to be honest, it's one of the things about her that I'm the lest interesting in losing as she gets older. Typhoon Schuyler is the merriest of storms.
Most of all, Schuyler still wants to be a teacher. She gravitates towards advocacy in ways that as a parent I never dared to hope for. I'm not sure you can teach a child to be truly empathetic. You can only hold that door open. Schuyler's got the biggest heart in the world. She still wants to help others like herself, people "with little monsters of their own".
At sixteen, Schuyler is still the radiant center of the universe. Well, I can only speak for myself.