15 Minutes

Days like today are hard.  Days like today are tough for me not to feel discouraged.  Another week has flown by and it feels as though there has been no progress.  Kai had his assessment for his hearing/language yesterday, and his overall development today.  I wanted to cry.  No, I would answer to most questions, he doesn't do that.  When asked what our goals are for the next six months, my immediate response was that I want to see him smile.  A real smile--at me.  I want him to be able to hold his head up.  I want him to be able to sit up without having padding all around him to keep his head in place.  Even rolling-- if he would roll from his back to his side, that would be something.  We had been so encouraged because he would roll spontaneously a few months ago.  Now he doesn't roll at all.  In fact, he hasn't done anything new in months.

How do you have expectations for your child without having expectations?  How can I be so selfish as to want him to do these things?  Do I want it for me or for him?  Shouldn't I be content with where he is now?  On the other hand, wouldn't it be unfair to him not to strive for the next step, even if it seems out of reach right now?  How can we know his potential without pushing him?  How do I not get discouraged when it seems as though there is no progress? 

I don't always feel this way, but Assessment Day seems to drag it out of me because I see just how far the gap is widening in Kai's delays.  It is on days like today that I must remember days like yesterday.

Yesterday, I woke up with a sore throat and extremely tired.  Oh crap, was my first thought.  I have two appointments and the second puts us right in the middle of Zuri's nap time, which leaves Zuri without a nap; never a good thing.  Then Zuri woke up ten minutes after the nurse left, and she woke up whining and not in a good mood.  Double crap.  I said a silent prayer, asking for help with my patience, and to give me strength for the day.  Not even two minutes later, Kai uncharacteristically started fussing and wouldn't calm down.  This isn't what I meant when I asked for help today! 

Since nothing else worked, I picked Kai up and held him.  As soon as I sat down he stilled.  As soon as I sat down Zuri stopped throwing her tantrum and came over to us.  She crawled into the chair and patted Kai's leg.  "It's okay, baby Kai," she said softly, "it's okay."  My heart melted.  Nothing else mattered at that moment.  We snuggled and rocked for fifteen minutes without distraction--no TV, radio, alarms, or thought about what needed to be done next.  For fifteen minutes life was almost perfect as I held my two beautiful children in my arms.

My prayer had been answered.  Those fifteen minutes gave me strength, a renewed vigor for the day ahead.  They serve as a remembrance for a day like today when I am tired and struggling and discouraged.  So, now I am going to put the computer away and cuddle with my son.  I am going to hold him tight and forget about all the things that he doesn't do.  I am going to enjoy him right now, at this moment, for him and what he can do.  He will bury his head into my chest and either fall asleep or suck on his fingers and blow bubbles.  Either way, I know he is saying, I love you, Mommy.