Time for a little catch-up

Sasha's palate expander came off yesterday and he was fitted with a retainer today to hold everything in place until his first surgery. We go see the surgeons on Monday to talk about this first surgery. It is not reconstruction per se rather we are going find a piece that is not in the "right zip code" and move it into position. Sasha is so exited to finally start work that he literally dances up and down at the prospect. Good thing because we will be spending a lot time in surgery over the next few years.

Also, the speech therapists (he has three) finally did a full spectrum analysis and tagged his developmental delays due to his palate issues. Of course he scored below age level in things like syntax, etc., while he scored above age in vocabulary. There are also some sounds that just will not clear up until we put part of his front back together. The public school speech therapist sounded so disheartened. I am not because what her testing showed grammar and vocabulary lacks that are more indicative a new speaker of English language that true developmental delays. If he was slow there is no way his vocabulary would be above age. That exposure is frankly due to me never talking down to him or simplifying my conversational interaction with him. His private speech therapist rocks and is busy working with him to learn how to make sounds he should be able to do but does not.

So medically we are moving forward. In the behavior department we have also made mega-strides forward. Sasha's support has been clear that no book has been written on what to do with kiddos like my sweetie when they are so over the top behaviorally. But we all pitched in and were there for Sasha. Today he is a normal little boy complete with bug collections and covert plans to leap off of all high places just for the thrill of it all. He loves to watch the skate boarders and then practice their leaping and twisting moves. My son is so home.

I think often about that woman in Tennessee. Everyone who knows me asks my opinion. Ultimately, I think my two parenting wisdoms say it all.

First, I was not the parent I thought I wanted to be rather I became the parent my son needed. As a social worker I spoke to recently noted, I went to where my child needed me to be. I never thought about it that way but of course that is what you do. If a kid gets a skinned knee, you bend down put the band aid on and give a kiss. If your kid's skinned knee is emotional or mental you still go to where the band aid is needed. And give a kiss or two.

Second, just give it time. Often what seems like a tragedy today is tomorrows leftover chicken soup. Still edible with a subtle shift in nuanced flavor. All the drama is gone with a hint of something else. At least that is how it works with my Mom's soup. And that is how it works with the chickadee. I think that before everything in his life operated on a "end of the world" sense of timing. That is pretty common with institutionalized or otherwise traumatized children. Also, there is so much reparenting that simply takes time so as to allow the reprogramming of what is normal to take hold. Until it takes hold normal people are often taken down Alice's rabbit hole and may hear Jabberwokie echoing in the distance. Time cures all.

And then, at the end of the day I just hold my sweetie. Or be near. And the m0nsters will go away. And you will still be there - holding them with love.

Then one day you awake and the kid is just a kid. I then wonder if last year was just a really vivid bad dream. Take care and God bless, Sarah