After an IEP (Individual Education Plan) meeting with the school today about my middle boy, I realized how little I actually write about him. I have scrapped the odd layout on him and his quirkiness in the past, but never in any great depth or detail. Maybe I thought, if I didn't make a big deal about it, it wasn't really happening.....which is in sharp contrast to how I actually believe and how I do all I can to support, nuture and help him to become the best he possibly can.
I still thank the fact that my being so particular and observant actually noticed, acknowledged and took action on what I observed with Sammy. It's because of that I had him 'labelled' in order to receive assistance at school. I know many parents baulk at the idea that their child, is different, or 'not quite right'. My biggest hurdle was articulating my fears to my husband, which is ridiculous as he's the most tolerant and understanding person I know, and has never been one to put on the 'macho crap' of 'not my boy!!'. He's the man that was quite happy for my boys to have dolls to play with when they were young and Mummy was expecting or had a baby........no - defnitely not the man who would poo poo any of my thoughts about our children.
Sammy is my worry child. He's the one that makes my heart hurt. He's the one I hope and pray for- that people will accept him for what and who he is. Children can be unbelievably cruel, but thankfully, his wonderful nature has deflected that, and bullying or ridicule hasn't been a problem.
Fortunately, academically he is going along very well. And the credit goes to the school, whose support I can find no fault with. He is in a situation now, where the class has a full time aide, and Sammy benefits from this. He now has someone, who will sit by and help him through the anxious moments of uncertainty, and has someone who will prompt him along when he becomes distracted.
There are days, and moments, where I look at him and think he's fine. There are days where he just travels along, happily,doing all he is supposed to do without reminder or dalliances. Then other days it's like I am dragging him through sludge and mud so thick, that he can't hear, see or do anything other than maybe stare at the TV. I wish so much that I could see inside his mind, that I could think how he thinks and see how he sees and perceives the world. I know he is wired differently and I so desperately want to understand. I want to know what makes him hurt, I want to know what makes him scared. He speaks so little...... How hard he makes my heart ache, is how much it makes it soar when he laughs. He loves humour, like I do, the ridiculous stuff, like Mr. Bean being extra ludicrous. His face, so often devoid of emotion is just full of smiles and is lit up and accompanied by a laugh which is like music to my ears. Even as I sit here, I can't help the emotion welling up inside of me.
From the first moment........from when I was told I would never ever have another baby. To the scary blood tests and detailed scans, to the cancelled amniocentisis, to his early entry into the world, to the helicopter trip to Brisbane, to the intubation and crucial days of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, to his first day of school, to now, he has always always tugged at my heart. And he always will.
He received a birthday card from my brother - it's probably two birthdays ago now, but the words within I will never forget. The poignancy of the card was made even moreso because of the fact that my brother had never written in a card to my kids before, and then added to the message 'Dear Sam the man I am - you are destined for great things'....... My dear brother, you will probably never ever know how much those words meant to me.
I love all my three boys, with bottomless intensity. I am fiercely protective and as strongly adamant that I will do my best so that they are beautiful adults - they are already beautiful children, often being complimented by others who come across them, which is always heartwarming, especially if I haven't been around when their observations were made. But Sammy, Sammy you are the one I worry about, the one I cry over, the one I fear for.
I am thankful for you. I am thankful that you show me the world through your eyes. I just want to make things a little easier for you. I will pursue speech therapy for a while, I want your expressive language analyzed, so that you can tell me (or anyone) what's on your mind. I want to develop what's inside of you, so that it can come out. I love it when you tell me something, that is so far left field - but so amazingly insightful. You have an intuition rare in someone so young. I want you to trust that intuitiveness and take comfort in it. I want you to know how to react when things go wrong, or you feel overwhelmed. I want you to have the words to make others see the world the way you do.
I am also, at some stage going to find out if you have any musical talent. You have great pitch and can hold a tune. I wonder if there is a talent there inside of you somewhere. Maybe I will make you go - rather than giving you the choice. You have talent, your memory is awesome, I think there's something there, maybe, just maybe - just waiting to burst through. I still can't get over your talent for football - and how you amazed me with your first game. You are the tiniest on your side, and yet you have no fear, no hesitation to just drop your opponent.....and they, being caught completely unawares just drop to the ground. All these things and more, will add to your confidence and help build your self esteem.....
You are an especially wonderful little boy. You light up my whole life.......
"Today you are You,
that is truer than true.
There is no one alive
Yoer than You."