Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Adam's first conference

So a few days ago, I'm in line at Walmart, buying Christmas wrapping paper, Adam is in the cart and I hear, "Hey, Adam" from a little girl.

Adam hides his head and won't look at her. She is super chatty- telling me all about the following: she goes to the same daycare as Adam, is in his class, she tells me what she's buying and about all her visitors coming to her house, names them and I am overwhelmed by her articulation and how she is speaking to me.

Her father is with her and asks about Adam and I tell him that he is 3 1/2 and her father seemed kind and just remarked how shy Adam was.

On the drive home, I was sad. I don't know what it was about the encounter. Was it that it was a reminder of how "behind" he is, I don't know. It was unsettling. It was like my head started spinning and I was thinking that she's so advanced and all those normal kids are and then they're going to learn more and always be ahead of him and the matthew effect and all this crazy kooky stuff... you know when your thoughts just go all out of control and you're worrying about things that aren't real. Well, that was my car ride home.

Later that evening, we went to Adam's conference (not at daycare) at his preschool disabled class. His teacher had all wonderful things to say. Yes, he is really difficult to understand, but she told me that his receptive is age appropriate and many times she thinks that he is advanced compared to other kids with what he can do and what he knows. When you ask him questions, he knows all kinds of things, like all his numbers to 30, letters, his name, other word recognition, shapes, colors.  He can't tell you all these things, but he points and he can follow directions. She reminded me that he has only been able to speak for a year, his growth in this area is huge. He laughs and plays well with the other kids and is happy. Genuinely happy.

 He is learning all the time and I guess his first conference was  a snap out of my crazy kooky worry thoughts that weren't real. Because what is real is that he is perfect. Perfectly happy and so am I.

Sunday, November 7, 2010


It’s Jack White singing instead of Laurie Berkner. We’re driving down the highway on my way to pick up the boys at my mom’s. She took them for an overnight- and what a glorious overnight it was. I went to the mall and just looked at things- for fun. I went to the used bookstore and browsed, sipping tea. Picked up some wine and take out. Slept for 12 hours and went out to breakfast at noon. It was glorious.

I’m looking at many pickup trucks on my drive and smiling thinking of my old truck. I really loved that gas guzzler, I confess. It was a crazy impulsive buy, my second marriage was a wreck and I needed a new car. I had a plan before I went to the dealership, I really did, but it was love at first sight. It was way over my budget and was amazing. It was a red dodge Dakota quad cab. It was fully loaded, fancy wheels, bed liner, towing capacity, it had things I never used nor understood.

I loved that truck. I was in 2 accidents and never even felt a bump. No damage done to MY truck. Snow didn’t stop me. I helped people move. I was invited to Ikea by everyone I knew. I could throw things in it and just go. Matt and I would drive to the beach with our bikes, eat ice cream in the bed, camp and when my entire world was falling apart- it was okay. I felt safe. I had a truck. We could just live it in. It was total freedom to me. I was sexy driving it.  It was mine. 

Second marriage over. Four months into dating Philip and I was pregnant with Adam. We know what Adam’s infancy was like. The truck had to go. It was impossible to fit the medical equipment in there and those poor nurses trying to climb in and out of the truck was all too much.

I traded it in for…. A minivan. I know, the most unsexy car there is. It has a twenty-seven cupholders. There are outlets all over, which we needed for his suction machine. Oxygen tasks fit securely inside. There is room for emergency vomit bowls and a potty. The iv pole can stand up and feeds can happen easily. I can climb back and get to any child superfast with plenty of room for groceries , sippy cups, and soccercleats. 

Phil reminds me at least once a week while commuting in traffic that as soon as Adam is a driver, He will no longer have a car- insisting that he has a car because of the kids and feels the need to get rid of it as soon as possible. Which is fine with me, because this will give me more money to spend on my anti-minivan.  

The music is not the same in a minivan. Don’t misunderstand. I love my life. I love my problems and wouldn’t want to trade with anyone. They are mine and this is my story. But I think that the two days kid free made me appreciate the silence, my music choices and reflect on all the changes that make my story... mine.