Standing up for himself

Daniel has been movin and shakin for the past few weeks now and it is so fun and exciting to see. He out grew his high chair and with the continued generosity of grandma and papa he got a brand new chair that will grow with him. This chair allows him to sit at the table with us and eat.

However, this has become a bit difficult with his reaching for everything in sight. We have had to make sure the path is clear before we set him at the table. And you can see from the series of pictures below, that there is something else we need to contend with:

Trouble

It has been busy around here for the last few days especially. Daniel is becoming a typical two year old and this has been both exciting and dangerous.

Daniel, for a long time, really didn't find much interest in exploring the world around him. He would be perfectly fine sitting still and sort of "playing" with things that were presented to him. But no more!

Daniel is now a very inquisitive toddler, wanting to go wherever you are and see whatever it is you are doing. He is finding out that the kitchen is a pretty cool place with one particular cabinet that has different bottles of interesting looking fluid. Another fun place is in the hall upstairs very close to the stairs going down! Even more interesting is in the playroom where he can almost pull an entire shelving unit upon himself! Or maybe the best part is in the laundry room? Really all of it is just great fun for him and for us too.

Even though this has come upon us being fully unprepared, it is very exciting to have this little 2 year old in our house. It has been a while (not since Alison was two) that we've had to keep a diligent eye on a child's exploration. Yes, we need to invest in some child proofing but really I don't care about that right now. All I care about is that my little boy is becoming Trouble with a capital "T" and that is just alright with me.

Mother Calling

I have read on other blogs and in some articles, where mothers of special needs children have a much more difficult job. That for some reason we are stronger than a mother of a "normal" child. I have both and I tend to disagree.

I think that any mother is a mother of a "special needs" child. What child out there doesn't have "special needs?"

In today's world, there is so much that a child needs to survive that any mother who can guide her child though it with very little harm done, is a good mother.

When I was pregnant with Alison, the Iraq war started. I remember thinking that it was going to be very difficult to raise her in this world today. She has so many obstacles to overcome. Daniel does too but in a way, hers are even more dangerous because I cannot predict them. With Daniel, I sorta know what is ahead of me. He has his needs and delays and I know what we need to do to tackle them. For Alison, her needs are not so transparent. Her difficulties lie in the day to day navigation of this world which some days, I can't even navigate. I don't know how to shield her, protect her, guide her through and I haven't yet met one mother who really does.

Special needs or not, it is all a hard part of motherhood. For my children to be successful in life (and I don't mean make a lot of money or be famous), for any child to be successful, they must have a mother who is loving, and caring unconditionally. That is the task of any mother. That is the task of every mother.

Daniel's classroom

Today, Lara and I visited the elementary-school classroom where Daniel will attend summer camp for a few weeks and, in the fall, be enrolled as a preschooler.

While I had anticipated feeling uneasy about the visit, I actually became very excited by what I saw. We sat in on circle time, where the teacher led the class in songs and reading and used lots of visual aids -- really not much different from what we've observed in Alison's preschool classrooms.

What was different, of course, were the kids. Some had mobility issues, some behavioral or communicative. But there was no mistaking that these children were happy, responsive and having a great time. I immediately visualized my boy alongside his classmates, pointing to pictures, talking to the teacher, trying his sign language and "rocking out." (See 'Daniel dances' post.)

While I fully expect him to be apprehensive at first, I know that before long Daniel will be having a great time in his new class. And I am confident that he will excel from being in this new and wonderful environment.

Truth, Reality

I know in my heart of hearts that it is unfair to compare Daniel to other children his age. However, when faced this past weekend with two little boys slightly younger than Daniel-walking, talking perfectly normal little boys, I cannot help but to compare.

I still go back to the why of it all. Why Daniel? I cannot make sense of it, and I don't think that I ever will.

I love Daniel with all my being but the reality is that that love will never change his differences. I wish it could. I wish that someone could just love someone so much that all of that person's difficulties would go away because I can't move mountains, I can't change it and I can't control it either and that is what bothers me the most.

The other day I visited Daniel's soon to be special ed classroom. It was a truly surreal situation for me. Here I saw children that seemed to me to be far worse than Daniel, but in reality, some were very much like him. I fully expected someone official to come walking in to the classroom and tell me that a mistake had been made and that my son actually belonged in the regular classroom, but that was just a wish on my part.

I know full well that Daniel will do great in this class. I know he will love it and that it will be the best thing for him but in truth I still wish it weren't so.

Daniel dances to 'Banana'

The fact that he can't stand up doesn't stop Daniel from grooving to a reggae beat. We came upon this song, "Banana," on our new favorite TV show, Yo Gabba Gabba. I think everyone should watch it, whether or not you have young kids.

My two favorite moments:

• 1:11 -- Danny stops to acknowledge me with a point of the finger, saying "Da-da."
  
• 1:50 -- Daniel does sign language for banana.

By the way, if you're interested in dancing along, here's the "Banana" video.

Lost

I have tried to explain this to Jason without much success and maybe it is something that can never be explained, I don't know.

I have struggled with dealing and thinking of Daniel's condition since before we even knew it had any sort of a name.

I love my son. I love him and his sister more than anything. My life is complete with my family and Daniel is a wonderful little boy. The best, I wouldn't trade him for anything ever!

But there is a feeling I have, a certain sense of loss. It is almost like a person died but someone I never even met. I don't know if this is normal, but it is how I feel. Because of this I am lost.

After learning of his "first" diagnosis, I felt like I was drifting through life temporarily. Like any life-changing event I felt surreal as though I was an observer and not a participator. I don't feel that way anymore, but I still don't feel normal. It is almost like I left that life before and it is never the same. It is not better or worse, just not the same. I am still angry, still sad and still left with many many questions.

Jason and I are different when it comes to this particular point. I need answers. I see things in black and white and always have. He, on the other hand, is able to look beyond and deal with what is and not with abstract of what could be. We compliment each other this way but is one right and the other wrong? How do I move on?