A friend once told me that my blog entries are always lovely and deep and hers are always "I'm grateful for chocolate" Lol. The truth is, we have many days that nothing exciting happens at all. In that I no longer have expectations for how things are supposed to go down. I really no longer look forward to milestones that I can brag about, that leads to disappointment and sadness, and really why do that to our family?
When Asher was born there were a lot of thing I expected to happen, normal things, but markers and milestones that I looked forward to happening because I knew that they would. Teething, crawling, walking, talking? social talking and reciprocity? Those things just didn't happen the way I expected. There are a lot of things I didn't expect as well. Medical problems, sensory issues, speech delays, developmental disorders, Autism.....I didn't expect any of that. But over time as these things appeared in our lives, we started to realize that we began to expect those unexpected things to happen. Our new normal changed from "why us?" to "why not us?" and "it only make sense at this point that one more thing would fall down on us" This reversal in thinking happened slowly, but it is what it is.
But sometimes, there are things that go down that I had at one point expected to happen. These normal things, the expecteds, they are all very unexpected, so when they happen and we are shocked, people look at us and say "well yeah, of course, what did you expect to happen?" I guess I expected anything but the normal, the regular, the "of course!"
The other day my niece Kylee came over to play with Asher. For the most part they still play side by side, but only sometimes with each other. This is expected for me. Kids like Asher with PDD-nos tend to play by themselves, and even though Asher has a bright social spark (His neurologist's words, not mine) and doesn't meet a lot of the social markers for Autism, he is still behind in some of his play skills. This is our expected.
Sometimes I will sit with Kylee and Asher and script the play for them, ask questions, give them language, help them take turns and share. This is something I've become quite good at in all my years of teaching language impaired kids. We often joke that I went to school for language disabilities because God knew the kids in my life would need me to have those skills, not really to be a language teacher. As it stands for now, I can do both.
On this particular day however, I decided I needed time to read while they were playing nicely, quietly, and didn't really need me. I expected them to play by themselves, I expected fights about sharing, I expected Kylee's feelings to get hurt and for Asher to have zero empathy towards her. I expected these things, because again, things that would concern most people have just become normal.
But here is what happened instead. I'll write this up like I would write up a language sample to make it easier to follow.
Asher: I go a party
Kylee: Was it a burfday party?
Asher: Yeah
Kylee: My burfday is Sesame Street Abby party
Asher: I haffa Buzz party
Kylee: You have cupcakes and chips at the party
Asher: haffa buzz cake
Asher: haffa sheriff woody inna aliens
Kylee: Asher you should have cookies and candy with those cupcakes
Asher: yeah candies
Kylee: Can I have some candies?
Kylee: Can I have some alien candies?
Asher: Aliens!
Kylee: Asher you crazy!
Kylee: Auntie Asher is crazy
Asher: yeah I crazy.
Most people would expect a conversation like that with an over 4 year old and a basically three year old. I'm not saying they wouldn't smile and think "omg how cute, I can't believe I heard that! Aww they are getting so big" They'd be impressed sure. But they wouldn't be sitting there crying, thinking "Oh MY GOD! They are Geniuses! The SMARTEST kids alive!" Which is what runs through your head when you never in your faintest imagination and wildest dreams saw a conversation between two language impaired children going down in this manner. I'm sitting here all proud Auntie and so happy I'm crying Mama, over something that should have been completely expected or even if you're one taken to brag like myself, a moment that would have lead to a Facebook "My kids are so cool listen to what they said" comment. But I couldn't move. I just sat there listening and hoping for more, with an insane amount of happiness, but also shock running through me.
And it all circles back to the funny little thing in life called Hope. People often say "wow you're so positive!" Which you know, isn't the most truthful version of how things go down...not at all. I'm learning with the help of others to be more positive to be more hopeful, but I'm not Miss Sunshine. I often feel like "poor Asher" and "poor Phill" have quite a battle ahead in life just having to live with someone as difficult, sensitive, and taken to saddness too often and too easily. But I am trying for them.
I also get comments about hope. Asher's neurologist often says "I don't know how you're doing it, but you're holding onto that hope! Not all parents can and do" This is how it happens, your hope hovers somewhere below the norm, sometimes it is barely a whisper. You wake up and you expect to see a child struggling with skills well below what is developmentally appropriate. And hope is just laying somewhere dormant in the back of your head. This is what you expect, to have what others would consider a worrisome day. And then you get instead what others would completely expect to get waking up to a new day and it is so unexpected. And your hope taps on your shoulder and says "I told you so, now stop moping and go enjoy that little boy"
But you know on the surface, nothing profound, amazing, deep, sentimentally gooey here at all. Just two little kids, playing together, having a fun conversation planning a birthday. Just a simple expected day, or is it?
