stop.

today when max got in the car (he's walked to the car and put inside by one of his teachers), miss katina said, "max, when one of your friends is bothering you...remember, you say, stop".  and she motioned with her hands the sign for stop.  at least, i assume that's what it was.  it was a flat palm and the other hand was straight.  i'm sure that's what it was.  the sign for stop.

so he did it.  looked right at her and said and signed, "stop".

it's been at the back of my mind all day.

as we drove off i asked him what happened.  and then quickly (as i always do) followed up with, "was someone mean to you, max?"

it has to be a yes or no question.

yes, he said.

he also said a name.  but i couldn't figure it out.  i guessed but i guessed wrong because he said, "no momma" and then repeated the name to me.

still, nothing.  immediately i regretted not knowing all the kids in his class.  because that was the end of our conversation.  i quickly reiterated that he could and should sign and say stop anytime he felt uncomfortable.

on we drove.  to pick up pratt.

a little while later i got a call from an occupational therapist at access.  telling me that max had qualified for OT.  he qualified in several areas.  areas of weakness.

she also wanted me to know where he had done well. areas of strength.  and for a split second, i was so proud of him.

it has bothered me all day.
until you've had this happen, you have no idea how damn exhausting it is to hear where your kid is weak.  where he needs work.  where he needs therapy.  where he could do better.

i want, more than anything, for him to live a normal life.
i want him to be happy.  and strong.  and healthy.
and i want him to run and jump and play with friends on the playground.

i want him to tell secrets.
i want him to tell jokes.
i want him to giggle.

i want him to play hide and seek.
i want him to be able to count to 10.

i want him to be able to tell me what show he wants to watch.
what he wants for dinner.
what he wants to drink.
where he wants to go.
what he wants to wear.

i want him to tell me no.  and yes.
i want him to yell at pratt.
i want him to say a nightly prayer.

i want so much for him.

mostly, i just want him to be happy.

i wasn't here at bedtime, so clint put them down.
max wanted to sleep in the bunkbeds, so clint allowed it.

i went in to check on him and found this...

isn't that the most precious thing you've ever seen?

as i look at it, i can't help but wonder what he's dreaming about.

is he dreaming of olaf?  and anna?
is he dreaming of pratt and fishing?

what about running and skipping and flying kites?
sitting in pop pop's lap.
hugging me as tight as he can.
is he dreaming about sonic ice cream.
or target popcorn.

in his dreams, can he speak like his friends?

will i ever know?  will he ever be able to tell me?

yes.  i know the answer is yes.
but sometimes it feels like life is dragging on.  and while everyone else is moving forward, max and i are stuck.  in sinking sand.

my children are my whole life.  i don't have a real job.  i don't have anything else to worry about.  so i worry about them.  mostly, i worry about that 3 year old.

so if you could, say a prayer for me.  and for that little boy.  and for all the little boys and girls who are dealing with apraxia too.  it's so hard, y'all.

life can just be so hard.  so do me a solid.

teach your kids that we don't all look alike.
we don't all sound alike.
we don't all act alike.

that's part of the beauty of God's creation.
we are all different.

and because of this, it's important to be kind to everyone.  thanks, friends.

xxoo.