Today, Aubree is in motion.

She’s been carrying around the shapes from an apple shape sorter — not using the sorter, just the shapes. They go where she goes. No agenda, no sorting. Just carrying them, holding them, keeping them close. I don’t know what she loves about them — maybe it’s the sound of them when bang together, or the feeling of having something in her hands. But they matter to her and she doesn’t want anyone to touch them.

She’s also playing with her musical sea turtle learning book again. Pressing the buttons. Letting it sing. Watching the lights. It’s her current favorite — and I get it. It’s repetitive, calming, dependable. Kind of like her own little soundtrack.

But the main event?
The rocking chairs.

Aubree has fully claimed both of the living room rocking chairs — despite the fact that they technically “belong” to her grandparents. If one’s empty, she’s in it. If one’s occupied, she’ll try to subtly (aka not subtly at all) slide in next to you to try and push you out. That does not go over too well with her Mimi and Papa though.

And when she rocks? She ROCKS.

She folds her legs up under her in the seam, buries herself down deep into the chair like she’s becoming one with it, and starts rocking like the world depends on it.

One of the chairs slowly migrates to the center of the living room with how hard she goes. The other one starts smacking into the wall, and we have to keep shifting it back before she knocks a dent in the drywall. It’s a full-body experience for her. She’s not just sitting — she’s regulating. She’s feeling.

There have been a few near-trash-can moments today, and some tools she attempted to “borrow” — but compared to some days, this one feels like a win.
I’ve had to stop her from picking at her diaper a few times, but she’s redirected easily enough so far today.

And all throughout the day, she’s been singing her version of Five Little Ducks.
She’s nonverbal, but she copies rhythms and tones. It’s not about words — it’s about melody. And you can hear the joy in her voice, even if the lyrics are just for her.

She’s telling a story. She’s asking for nothing, unless its food or drink. She’s completely content in her own world, her way.

And I’m just lucky I get to witness it.