There are many times where having a child like the Mini is so daunting, that I wonder if I am cut out to be his mother. I know that all kids are challenging, and depending on age (dudes, seriously, three year olds? Are BULLSHIT, I’m sorry, but it’s totally true, and if you haven’t gotten to three yet, consider this your warning), and of course temperment comes into play, but there are days where I feel like I have so little patience for everything. I can’t pin the blame all on him. As they get older and gang up on me, or I’m running in two different directions, or the Mini decides to do something negative, just to get the attention away from his attention seeking sister, I start to become “mean Mama.”
But then like everything else, there are those days. Those days that are wonderful and unicorns and rainbows. Days that are awesome. Days where I see vast improvements over others. And I wonder if it’s just him improving, or if there’s some sort of formula that helps his brain organize better, speak better, and listen better. Alas, I can’t figure it out, so I take the good days and run with them.
On Sunday, we went to my parents for the fourth. Anytime we mention a trip to “Gaba’s,” he gets beside himself. Throw in a visit from Uncle Mike and Aunt Sherry, you might as well have told him we were going to Disneyworld. Well, if he knew what Disneyworld was. Maybe more like, telling him that he’s allowed to eat a whole bag of “potty cookies” for dinner. Given the excessive heat, we spent a good portion of the day in my parents pool. This is the first time where he was able to use a flotation device, and have the freedom to swim around on his own. And with that, it was like, it just clicked, and he wanted to stay in all day and swim around like a little fish. He was able to keep his head above water and kick his legs and paddle. It was amazing to watch. And just learning that little bit, gave him immense confidence. Up until now, he’s been in private lessons, because once he hit 18 months, he wanted no part of listening to us, and all it did was fuel my anxiety, making it an unfun activity for all involved.
Tonight, I saw him across the pool, jumping in. Paddling across, kicking his legs. It was a pretty amazing site, even with “the bubble,” a very simple flotation device. My little boy can nearly swim. He’s practicing his jumping. He’s not afraid to go under water. His teacher recommended that he be mainstreamed with the other typical kids. A huge relief. He’s ready for the next level.
Another “big boy” thing he got to do for the first time, was stay up for the fireworks. This was a very.big.deal. for all involved. While I wanted to be excited for his first trip, I’ve learned not to get my hopes up, because his sensory issues either make it so that he’s so hyper that he can’t focus, or he’s so overstimulated that he checks out. But he handled it like a champ. He wasn’t over the moon about the fireworks, but he watched them intently, and enjoyed them. Most of all, I think he enjoyed the time alone with just the two of us, while his sister exhausted my parents with her refusal to sleep anywhere that wasn’t her own bed.
My boy seems to be growing in leaps and bounds. His babyhood is becoming a fuzzy memory.