Last year, I wasn’t too embracing of the fact that my son had turned four. Rather, I was kind of pissed at his behavior. Four was supposed to be awesome! Epic! This is what I was told! It’s a guarantee! Exclamationy point goodness!!!!!!!
So I couldn’t go into my whole asshole birdy, twitterpated, “oh my god you guys, life is so beautiful” German lacking, heartfelt “I can’t believe he’s another year old,” posts. Because, truthfully, he started out four as being kind of a dick. That’s right. There’s the Statia you know. The one that never sugar coats anything. Granted, it was all related to ear infections and antibiotics. Because not long after he got better. It got better, and seriously you guys, four was the best year we ever had. Oh my god you guys, life is so beautiful.
First of all. I can’t believe I have a five -year-old. FIVE! I still sometimes feel like I’m 18 and too young to have a kid that old. And then I wrench my back, or pull a muscle, and I’m reminded that I’m closer to 40… you know what, it isn’t important.
I had his, most likely final IEP meeting with our local Intermediate Unit. I’ve already met with his new team for his Kindergarten IEP. My kid. He starts kindergarten. In the fall. It doesn’t compute. Anyway, his IEP meeting, his BSC (fancy term for behavioral therapist, she helps him with social interaction), who is very awesome and has done so much for the Mini, has basically made the decision to cut back her services. It’s time. All these years of having my hand held, and him having various therapies, and now he’s flourishing. The best possible outcome we could have hoped for. It’s amazing to see the transformation of his language and processing. His problem solving. This amazing kid he’s become. Funny, and smart. He’s always been smart, but he couldn’t articulate it the way he can now. The things he does. It blows my mind. After four years, I finally feel more relaxed about his development. I let him go on his first play date by himself. He talks about having sleep overs with his friends. It makes my heart shatter in a million little pieces. But no longer is it fear. It’s joy. That little infant I brought home. That little stranger, who was so long a mystery to me, is now someone I know with confidence.
I know, I need to stop with this hurly mess. I KNOW.