While working at my desk
Just because it's on my to-do list doesn't really mean it's going to get done. Even if it really, really needed to get done.
While in the waiting room at therapy
Some moms have it worse than I do. One mom came in with her kid, who was wearing what I thought at first was a bike helmet. But it was actually a helmet designed to protect his head when he threw a tantrum and dropped straight back, cracking his head on the floor. I couldn't help it, I winced at the sound, which I'm sure didn't earn me any points with the mom, who narrated her way through the experience, as her kid whacked his head three more times on the way to the therapist's room. "He's in a really cranky mood today. Should have brought your dad. If I'd have known, I'd have brought your dad." I narrate a lot, too -- it's a coping mechanism, mostly to distract myself from the people who are staring. Or wincing.
After the therapy session
D. does not yet have a dominant hand. D. is FIVE. But apparently this is not cause for panic, and the OT recommends encouraging two-handed activities, like hitting punching catch, and coloring with a piece of sidewalk chalk in each hand.
On the drive home
D's love for his Circle Time playlist is in precise inverse proportion to how much I hate it.
Sitting on my sofa after dinner
I am ridiculously jealous of other people's neurotypical childen. This is insane, as I have three neurotypical children of my own. And yet, when I think about my friends' kids, or the kids of strangers, I have to make a conscious effort not to let grief swallow me.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Things I Learned Yesterday
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3 comments:
The no-dominant-hand thing is not a big deal. A friend of mine in college had no dominant hand (he was also profoundly dyslexic, had been held back in elementary school so that he would learn to read before middle school, and said he was majoring in engineering because "it's the easiest major when you read really slowly"). Really smart, succesful guy, who developed at his own pace.
ahhhhh write girl my friend...hear you loud and clear.
That last paragraph has become my mantra lately and I'm trying not to let it but it's hard. I've been meaning to blog about it but it's amazing I'm even finding time to comment right now. But I hear you.
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