Baby red cheese

We had a recent Jazz-ism that led to a fit and lots of confusion, but also to a great story.

The last time she stayed with Matt and I we had a new type of cheese in our refrigerator (well new to her that is).  Apparently this weekend when my mom and Jazz went grocery shopping, Jazz had a serious craving for that specific type of cheese.  Of course, like always, she could not actually remember what it was called.  So she spent more than hour saying:

"I want the baby red cheese"  

"I had the baby red cheese at sissy's house and I want the baby red cheese"

"Sissy gave it to me and I liked it"

"Mom where is the baby red cheese?"

"I want the baby red cheese"

"Sissy had it at her house"

"do you know where the baby red cheese is"

"Can we go look for the baby red cheese?"

"You know the baby red cheese"

"I want the baby red cheese"

Ok, I think you get the idea.  Now since my mom didn't know this brand or type of cheese they spent a long time looking all over the store for it.  Jazz then started to melt down and flap as she got more and more agitated about mom not knowing where or what the baby red cheese was.

Finally, my mom asked for help at the deli while Jazz went back through her cycle over and over again for the lady at the deli counter.  Luckily the lady was kind enough to listen to Jazz and figured out that Jazz was asking for the miniature Babybel Cheeses!

Jazz then proceded to hug and kiss the package of cheese and once again tell the story that she ate it before at sissy's house and it is red so it's the baby red cheese and on and on and on...

The lady was even kind enough to open a whole other package of them and gave her a couple right then to eat.  As she began to eat her treasured cheese, she looked at my mom and asked, "Do you think she knows I have special needs?"  After what the lady observed, I have no doubts that she knew Jazz has special needs. 

Encouraging Jazz to advocate for herself and understand her disability is a delicate subject.  Luckily it's moments like this one that she feels like her disability can work with her/for her, even though in this case it only meant getting to have her cheese before she paid for it.  The hope is that this small moment, will carry over into larger moments of empowerment in the future.

Much love!