I've survived another year of travel around the sun. It's Father's Day too, which happens every few years. I read about kids getting up early and making their dads soggy cereal for breakfast. Not here.
I wonder what he remembers and I suspect it's a lot, more than I think. I try to be patient and sometimes I am not. A lot of parents are like this, right? We're all human, or supposed to be. So much is expected of parents, and rightly so. But when the curtain falls on the hallowed image of being a decent parent to a special needs child, it damages the scenery. What has scarred him and how much have I screwed him up already? He's not even nine, when he asks for what he wants you can barely hear him speak but when he's incessantly bouncing on the yoga ball the unintelligible speech is loud. It's hard to get through the days when that is all he wants to do, or when he's nearly impossible to reach. All you can do is love him as best as you can I guess, and hope for the best.
So many times I do not know what to do. I'm asked what they're going to do to him in the Feeding Clinic and I do not know. No one knows. It's how he reacts to what is presented to him that may determine the path of therapy. This is going to take a lot of work.
Often times I am terrified of what he will say about me if he does start speaking. No amount of typical back talk could prepare me for that. I do not regret what happened though, I was going without much of a net. Sometimes I still am.
Called my sister tonight, which is something I rarely do. Not just her, but everyone. Telephones and I are not friends. I tried though, and will try again soon.
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