Going back to Jaysen's birthday party, I am amazed at how many parents just drop their kids off and run like Forrest Gump. I know I may be a
tad overprotective, but even if Jaysen didn't have the issues he has, I don't know how comfortable I'd feel just dropping him off at someone's house whom I've never met. And I'm usually the only mom at other birthday parties.
Aside from my friends, one mom stayed.
One mom.
Kids were having a blast, the mom and I strike up a little chat.
Then the magic words came.
"My son has expressive receptive language disorder."
Ah.
That's why you stayed. Needless to say, we bonded.
We watched how each other interacted with our children, and frequently gave each other that knowing look. We talked about school, the pace of the classroom, the supports in place, and our children's strengths and weaknesses. We talked about getting the boys together for friendship and pragmatics.
I explained Jaysen's affinity for VHS tapes and DVD's.
She told me about her son's love for the color red.
We understood each other.
As they were leaving, I noticed her son becoming a little anxious.
He was frantically looking through the leftover treat bags.
She was telling him there weren't anymore with suckers in them.
Still, he searched, and I could see on her face, that she was making
that decision.
The one where you have to plan your escape because you know your child is going to flippin freak out. The one where you run through every scenario in your head, desperately trying to figure out which one will preserve even a shred of dignity. The one where you wonder if you'll ever be invited back to another birthday party ever again.
I beeline to my candy stash, and present the boy with a sucker.
A red sucker.
He smiles at me.
And with a look of utter relief, so does his mom.
Aside from my friends, one mom stayed.
One mom.
Kids were having a blast, the mom and I strike up a little chat.
Then the magic words came.
"My son has expressive receptive language disorder."
Ah.
That's why you stayed.
Needless to say, we bonded.
We watched how each other interacted with our children, and frequently gave each other that knowing look. We talked about school, the pace of the classroom, the supports in place, and our children's strengths and weaknesses. We talked about getting the boys together for friendship and pragmatics.
I explained Jaysen's affinity for VHS tapes and DVD's.
She told me about her son's love for the color red.
We understood each other.
As they were leaving, I noticed her son becoming a little anxious.
He was frantically looking through the leftover treat bags.
She was telling him there weren't anymore with suckers in them.
Still, he searched, and I could see on her face, that she was making that decision.
The one where you have to plan your escape because you know your child is going to flippin freak out. The one where you run through every scenario in your head, desperately trying to figure out which one will preserve even a shred of dignity. The one where you wonder if you'll ever be invited back to another birthday party ever again.
I beeline to my candy stash, and present the boy with a sucker.
A red sucker.
He smiles at me.
And with a look of utter relief, so does his mom.