Ms Jan* brought some fun Fall activities a few weeks ago*. I found this apple behind the T.V.* after she left. I found it again with tooth marks* in it.
Ms Jan - This woman has loved us all really well the past year. And loving us isn't in her job description. Jan is T's Early Intervention Specialist. According to my handbook she is trained to, "address all areas of development." Though it's a large bill to fill, she has exceeded it.
Conversations with her last year helped me recognize that T's delays weren't just a bump in the road, they were the road. She hugs T. She brings activities for N. She tells AB how delightful she is. She was the very first person to ask me how I was doing as our path to awareness was becoming clear. She is patient and kind with T and adapts her day to fit his needs. She recognizes that N is an integral part of T's development, not a hindrance to it. She marvels at how AB has grown. She has connected me with resources in the community. She helped me realize that all the diagnoses qualify as a disability and, therefore, qualify for assistance. Ms. Jan rocks.
a few weeks ago - Ms. Jan came to our house for the last time a few weeks ago. T has aged out of the program that Ms. Jan works for. I'm so bummed that I'm trying to find time to call the state to ask them to change their rules. She quickly became a treasured part of our lives. Just as losing a family member that you see every week is a loss, being too old to hang with Ms. Jan is a loss.
behind the T.V. - the apple hadn't just rolled behind the T.V. It was chucked back there. I could tell because it was tangled in the wires behind it, a few inches off the floor. T has a strong sense of order; unfortunately, it hardly ever aligns with my system of order. Apparently, the apple belongs behind the television. Just like socks belong in the shoe pile, airplanes belong dumped in front of the book shelf, and all doors must be shut.
some bites - oh, those bites are what have morphed a piece of decor into a treasured keepsake. After I found the apple behind the television I put it on my desk to remember to take it to Ms. Jan. The next time I found it, the apple bore at least six sets of teeth marks. There might be a seventh, it's hard to discern.
Those teeth marks represent so many things to me: T sticks everything in his mouth. He is persistent. He will push a chair and climb to whatever he wants. He loves apples. He's little.
The days are coming when his teeth will make much bigger marks. He might still be putting decorative apples into his mouth then. Only it won't be as cute when he's 23. The days of his disability being adorable are flying by. M and I will always see our beloved son, but soon the rest of the world will see a boy/teenager/man with developmental delays. Now, most people think it is darling the dedication T puts into removing his shoes. Very few people get mushy goofy smiles on their faces at the sight of grown men struggling to take off their shoes.
I love being a mom to small children. These little years are jam-packed with joy. This apple reminds me of the little years with all my kids, but especially with T-Man. It reminds me of Ms. Jan. It reminds me of the wild year we have had. It makes me smile.
If my house were on fire, and all my family members were safe, and I could run in and grab just one thing, it just might be this apple.
copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.
