dear max.

dear max,

i'm writing because i don't want to forget this week.

it's your first official spring break.  you, pratt, cookie, sugar and liza (and of course me)...we all went to dallas to see frozen on ice.

we did a few other things as well.  we had dinner.  we shopped at ikea.  we played at a little neighborhood park.

but those aren't the things i want to talk about.

i want to talk about you.  about how impressed i was with you.

when i close my eyes, i can see you.  sitting on that sleeper sofa.  i can see you with your little plaid shirt on.  buttoned up to the top.  i can see you sitting there, with your chin down.  fingers working so diligently to unbutton your shirt.  cookie tried to help but you adamantly told her no.  and pressed on.

the whole world went on around you.  no one stopped what they were doing to watch.  it just kept spinning.

but you. you sat there with your small, three year old hands....and worked.  several minutes went by and you had it.  totally undone.

you didn't say anything.  you didn't brag on how you had done it.  you simply pulled your arms out of those sleeves, and removed your shirt.  then you brought it to the bag...the dirty clothes bag and dropped it in.  it was then you plopped down to take off your shoes...and socks and eventually your shorts.

the day before i had watched you pull your trunki from the car.  drag it into the hotel.  and onto the elevator.  then you walked down the hallway, behind everyone else.  you did it without making any sound.  you didn't ask for help.  you didn't show struggle or pain or delay.

you were simply you.

as you age, you'll see how silly so many of us are.  you'll find that we simply cannot rest.  that we must be moving. that we must be doing 10 things at once.

you'll see that pratt takes off his shoes and socks with his toes while working his fingers in his shirt.  undoing the buttons.

you'll see me folding laundry, spelling words for pratt and watching television all at once.

you'll see daddy read the newspaper and eat cereal.  never taking his eyes off the fine print of the paper.

but you...you're so different.

you take your time.  you never rush.  you never hurry.  you never stress.

because of this, you never seem flustered.  you never seem worried.  you never seem upset.

you, my son, have taught me to slow down.  i've learned to find calm in the quiet.  i've learned to sit and watch you for the minutes it takes you to do something.

it has taken me a while...but i've realized that there is a great deal of knowledge right in front of me.  i have a view few people can claim.

i hate the apraxia.  i hate the disorder that causes so much extra work for you.

but i love that it has taught you something that so many of us don't know.  i love that it has helped you to be a listener.  i love that you are quiet.  i love that you wait before speaking.  i love that you have so much determination...and so when something happens...i know it was meant to be.  i know that you wanted it.

today in yoga, my friend marietta said that sometimes we just need to be still.

thank you for teaching me that.  for teaching me that there is wisdom in the stillness.  kimber said it best when she said that wisdom is on your face.  it is in your eyes.  it is in the way you move your hands.  and your feet.

wisdom is written all over you.

i am so proud to be your mommy.
i am so thankful to learn from you each and every single day.
my prayer every single night is that i could wake in the morning and be more like you.

i love you more than you love ace.

xxoo.
mommy.

slow and steady.

i love that quote on pinterest about how if we all threw our problems onto the ground, when we saw what else existed...we would hurriedly pick ours back up and be thankful for them.

i think about that often.

yesterday i went to pick max up early from school and once he saw me, he teared up and said, "home,  momma.  go home."

apparently he cried in the gym too.  at some point during the day.

and if you have a child and know that they've cried without you, you know what i cannot describe here.

as we got into the car and left, i questioned him about what was wrong. about what happened in the gym and why he would have cried.  (it was during his physical therapy).

he said something but i couldn't understand it.  trying to understand him is difficult.  trying to understand him without being able to look at his mouth...almost impossible.  and i was driving.  so i couldn't really do anything about it.

as we got close to mcdonald's, he pointed and said, "eat momma!!" so i pulled to the drive through.

i immediately started asking what he wanted.

usually i can say, "cheeseburger or chicken nuggets" and i can make sense of what he responds.  but yesterday i couldn't.  he didn't say either of those things.

i felt my emotions start to well up.  my eyes got watery.  and i tried again.

max.  do you want chicken nuggets?  yes or no.  say yes or no.

he said something again...but it wasn't yes or no.  and i didn't understand it.

finally i just pulled through.  totally defeated.

i ordered a cheeseburger happy meal with yogurt and fries and juice.

when i handed it to him, he shook his head no.  and then just put his head down.  like he knew i didn't get it.

my crying began as i pulled onto rodney parham.

it didn't stop until i was minutes from opening the van door for pratt to hop in.

being the mom of a child with apraxia is so difficult.

it's difficult to explain.  it's difficult to understand.  it's difficult to express.

so i guess actually it's a lot like the apraxia itself.

there are days when he's chatty.  days when i know the context and i get it.  i understand.  i cheer so loudly when he says something and i understand.

then there are days when he's moody (like a normal 3 year old), but instead of using words to describe what's wrong, he screams.  or he tantrums.  or he doesn't do anything except cry.

my worries as i drove to benton were...(in no particular order)...

will he ever talk?
will he ever talk to where we can fully understand it?
will he ever have a playdate? without me?  without me there to say what he's saying?
will he ever not have to go to PT and OT and speech?
will he ever go to pratt's school?
will he ever be able to tell me what's wrong.  be able to fully express it.  without me having to guess?
will i ever not worry about him?

all those questions.  all those worries.

and then..just like that, i think of the other worries that moms i know would toss out there.

the moms who have children with medical issues.
the moms who don't have their children anymore.
the moms who have medical issues of their own.

etc, etc.

i could go on and on.

if you have a child not like the other kids their age, i'm here.  i'm struggling with you.  i'm wondering the same things you're wondering.  i'm worried about the same worries.

we are in this together.  you are not alone.  you're never alone.

my prayer for you today is that you realize that we can do this.  we are strong enough for this.  we are ready and willing and we can help them along the way.  i pray that you are surrounded by a village that helps you every single day.

and i pray that you, like me, can find time to just take a couple of deep breaths.  and know that God won't leave us.  and He won't forsake us.  and He saw this coming long before we had any idea.  slow and steady wins the race.  i'm sure of it.  i'm claiming it.

xxoo.
hannah.