This I k-n-o-w.

A new phase is here.  We don't know how long it's been around, but we figured it out about a week and a half ago.  Our mystery girl has never liked the word "no."  Sometimes, she'll get upset when you tell her "no," as if you've hurt her feelings.  (Or as Jacob used to say, it "made my feelings sad.")

But, lately, Olivia has been flipping out when she hears the word "no."  And here's the kicker:  It's only when Brian says it.  We've tested this theory, and she is fine as long as anyone else says "no" to her.  But, when Brian says it, she loses it.  Tears streaming, head banging, pinching-  loses. it. 

And here's another kicker:  It doesn't matter the context of the word.  It doesn't matter the tone of the word.  Hell, it doesn't even matter the word, as long as it sounds like "no."  She's made it clear that K-N-O-W and even NO-body are off limits.  Brian can be in the middle of a calm conversation with me and say something like, "I don't know if I want a milkshake tonight."  And, the meltdown begins.  Last week, she started throwing herself back in her high chair so hard after Brian uttered the word that she broke the high chair.  Both sides snapped.  Luckily, it didn't cause the chair to fall, but it is no longer a viable option for holding our five-year-old head-banger.

Do you know how many times you say no/know on a daily basis?  You know how you don't realize how much you use your thumb until you have a cut on it and it hurts every time you use it?  That's what it's like. 

Poor Brian.  It's breaking his heart to see that he is causing her so much grief.  He doesn't feel like he can talk around her at all because he's likely to slip up and say the word.  Yesterday morning, I asked him if he had brushed O's teeth yet.  "No, not yet," was his calm and casual answer.  By the time she finished crying, her hair was wet from the tears. 

We wonder how long this has been going on before we made the connection, as there have been so many times that Olivia has hit her head and cried with no obvious trigger.  I guess the more important question at this point is: how long will this phase last?? 

Chalk this up as one more little mystery in the journey with our mystery girl. 

Aside from Brian's heartbreak and the dramatic meltdowns, there is a completely separate thought that keeps appearing in my mind:

My girl, the one who often doesn't seem to be listening, is hearing every single word. 

So, this I k-n-o-w:  I'll never give in to the idea that Olivia isn't in our world.

She's here, and she's listening.