library card.

i remember taking Pratt to our library for the first time. And asking if he could get his own card. And I remember they told him he had to be older. I swear they said 10. But no. Apparently they said 5. 

because today we were there and we tried to log onto the new 5-12 computers. But my card didn't work.

So we asked why. The librarian told us that it was because he was 5...and needed his OWN library card! 

Yes! So that's what we did. he had to sign it and everything. It was so awesome. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I teared up a little. 

here he is. signing the card. 

This is what I like to call the "click smile". He like winks and smiles and clicks. It's weird and hilarious and awesome. All in one.

When the librarian told him to smile for the camera, he did this. And held it for like 2 solid minutes. Long after she said, "okay, sweetie. I got it."

he's growing up. And he's so proud of his new card.

dear pratt.

my dear sweet, kind pratt,

listen.

sometimes i harass you about your non stop talking.  and how it literally takes you 30 minutes to spend 3 dollars at the dollar store.  i give you a hard time about how you always want to wear your nike/reebok/walmart zip up jacket and pant suit instead of jeans and button ups.

but i would not change anything about you, child.

i realize now at 34 that God really does make each of us how HE thinks we should be.  i guess i should say that i realize it about myself, finally.  you, on the other hand...well, i have thought you were perfect since september 13, 2008 at 5:35 pm.

i feel like sometimes you get your needs met only after max's have been met.

in part, that is because he's younger.  and usually he requires more help than you do.  you're very capable at 5 years old.  i'm fairly certain that i could leave you for a week and you would do a better job at parenting than i would.

but also because i worry so much about max.  about when we will hear him really talk.  about when he will stop throwing small fits because he can't get his words out.  and so because of this...and lots more, i find myself giving him more time...being more patient with him.

and as a result, i am harder on you.

for that, i am sorry.

so, so sorry.  and i promise, that i WILL do better.

in all my years, i have never seen a better sibling than i see in you.

you are max's biggest fan.  his biggest cheerleader.

lately you've started saying, "max.  race me.  race me to the door."  and then proceed to act like you're running as fast as you can.  only it's like a slow motion movie.  you're all throwing your head this way and that.  and flailing your arms about.  but you're actually moving at a snail's pace.

but max has NO idea.  and so he's pumping those little legs of his.  laughing hysterically.  trying so hard to beat you.  and he does.  he hits that door before you do.  and then you fall to the ground in defeat.  and shout, "max!  you did it!  you won!!!"

it's then that you look up from the ground...at me.  and you smile.  and it's a secret that only you and i share.

in that moment, my heart feels like it might burst from my chest.  i am the happiest i can be.  i'm proud.  i'm hopeful.

in that moment, i realize how God loves me.

i don't ever want you to think that it's one sided.  i hope that when you're 35, you'll remember back to when you were 5.  and max was 2.  and i hope you remember how every single morning, max wakes up and when he and i hit that bottom step, he shouts out, "aaaaaaattttt!?"  he looks for you.  he wants to know where you are.

it's you he wants to sit with before bedtime.  it's you he wants to share a blanket with.  it's you he wants to play with.  run with.  laugh with.  it's always you.  and it will always be you.  i promise.  i know.  because i would ALWAYS pick sugar over anyone else.

so pratt, thank you for the brother you are.  thank you for the son you are.  the grandson.  for the friend. the cousin.  the nephew.

you get it.  i could go on and on.

i think you're stronger than superman.  and i think you're faster than lightening mcqueen.

i love you to the moon and back. and i'm so blessed to be your mommy.

xoxo,
mommy.

soccer practice.

pratt's first soccer practice was tonight. 

awesome. it was awesome. he did his own hair. and chose his clothes. 

I really think he will enjoy soccer. He's good at it. 

For lunch we had chick fil a on hot springs. Tomorrow starts preschool and Mother's Day out. I'm so excited!!

adventures.

the morning we took max for his evaluation in little rock, my friends holly and Brandon watched Pratt. I dropped him off at like 740. am. 

holly took him to preschool at 9. But prior to that, he had so many adventures. 

he fed the ducks. Played with their dog. He learned how to use a duck call. He used a metal detector...AND found an old skeleton key. oh. And played with rattlesnake eggs. 

needless to say, he has asked to go back to their house like 25 times. 

we are so blessed by good friends. 

news.

yesterday we got news that will forever (or at least for the next many years) change our lives.  alter our lives.  keep us on our toes.

well, more like keep us on our knees.  in prayer.

as many of you know, max doesn't say much.  he doesn't have much of a vocabulary.  he sporadically says words.  but he doesn't have a base vocabulary.  he doesn't have 10 words that he uses daily.  he doesn't really even have 2.

he babbles.  and he rhymes.  but nothing is ever clear.

so we took him to a school in little rock where they specialize in apraxia.  which is what we've thought was going on with him for a while.  first his slp mentioned it.  then i researched it...watched some kids who had been diagnosed with it...and voila.  deep down, this momma knew.  i knew that's what it was.

you might be wondering what apraxia is.  here is the definition.

childhood apraxia of speech (CAS) is a motor speech disorder that first becomes apparent as a young child is learning speech.  for reasons not yet fully understood, children with CAS have great difficulty planning and producing the precise, highly refined and specific series of movements of the tongue, lips, jaw and palate that are necessary for intelligible speech.  

from what i understand, "praxis" means planned movement.  so apraxia means without planned movement.  i think.

anyway.  the therapist was incredible.  she did two formal assessments with him alone.  and then brought clint and i in to talk to us with max.

she basically said that he was really young...but her gut tells her it's apraxia.  because he has such a limited vocabulary.  he only makes a few sounds...over and over again. she picked up on the m sound, n sound...and a few others.  but it's random and spontaneous.  and he won't do anything or any word on command.

i was terrified they would label him with any of the labels you can imagine kids without speech get labeled.  but she insistent that his receptive vocabulary was right on target for his age.  and that he understood everything said to him.  he just couldn't get it out.  his expressive vocabulary is not even what a 12 month old child has.  it's severe.

she basically said he had verbal and oral apraxia.  the oral part has more to do with his mouth.  the way he holds it.  the way he drools a lot.  that way he chews.  the way his little mouth works.  the verbal part is strictly his speech.

thursday night i prayed that no matter what they told us, i would accept it.  because knowledge is power.  i was terrified they would say there was something wrong...but that they had no idea what it was.  our experience was just the opposite.

she wants to have max attend therapy there 3 to 4 times a week.  intense therapy.  with a slp who is specialized in apraxia.

and then next year...when he turns 3, she wants him to be in the preschool there.  it will be from 8 to 3, five days a week.  he will receive global therapy along with preschool work.  while that's a lot for me to swallow...since pratt will be starting kindergarten...i know that this is the best thing for him.  and i pray that he will someday know that his being away from me for that long killed me...but that we did it for him.  we did it so that he would lead a normal, happy, fulfilled life when he was 25.  if i had my way, i would keep him here forever.  right beside me.

as i've been researching for ways to help him, now that we have a firm diagnosis...i came across this video.

and i've watched it 10 times.  and cried each time.

but it's what i, as max's mother, it's what i feel. it's my prayer.  it's what i hope for him.

for those of you who have kids who have never struggled, consider yourself lucky.  and say a quick prayer for the child who has.  for his or her parents.  for their worry.  for their sleepless nights.  for the blame that they put on themselves.  for the tears that fall daily.

i know that max will talk one day.  i know that he will speak clearly.

but right now...in this moment, i worry.

i worry i will never hear him say, "i love you, momma."

i worry that he will never tell pratt that he's an incredible big brother.

i worry that i will never see him stand on those church rafters and sing vbs songs.

i worry that he will never be able to call my mom on the phone and say, "hi cookie.  it's max."

i worry that he will never be invited over for sleepovers.  i worry he will picked last for sporting events.  i worry that he will cry.  and hurt.  and wish that he were anyone but himself.

but for now, i'll put all that behind me.  and i'll work every.single.day at making his life easier.  and helping him get to where he needs to be.  and if that means selling all our possessions...i'll do it.  i'll do whatever it takes.  i'll remind myself that he is healthy.  and happy.  and that is all that matters.

because at this point, i'm his biggest fan.  and his number 1 advocate.

go hug your babies.
thanks for listening to me ramble.

so hard.

one of my most vivid memories of pratt is when he was almost 2.  maybe one and a half years old.  he was sitting on the counter.  right above the utensil drawer.  we had his plate, bowl, cup and utensils out on the counter for dinner.

he reached over, picked them up and named everything on the counter.  then moved on to, sink, towel, stove, banana...

clint and i just looked at each other.  we knew he was young.  and that it was impressive.  but still we thought maybe it was what all 1.5 year olds were doing.

then came the letters, the alphabet, numbers, colors, shapes, etc.  he's never stopped.  he hasn't stopped in 5 years.

he is, hands down, one of the brightest children i know.

i thought it was normal.  and maybe (if i'm being totally honest), i thought it was a wee bit because of me.  because i'm awesome.  i mean, i devote my entire awake time to talking with him.   feeding him.  loving him.  so surely he's awesome because i'm awesome.

rolling your eyes?  i know.  it's gross.  but whatever.  it is what it is.  and as with all things superficial and ridiculous and self centered...it ends bad.  so just wait.

then came max.

who showed me that good sleep couldn't be taught.
and colic wasn't gonna be stopped.
and that you can't force a kid to talk.  even if you withhold his juice because he won't say juice.

no.  max taught me that pratt wasn't a result of me.  or my parenting.  pratt was a result of genetics.  period.  he is who he is.  sure.  i read lots of books.  and we watched videos.  and we talked.  but he's what God meant for him to be.

not because of me.  but more like....in spite of me.  i heard that somewhere.  maybe khalil gibran?  can't remember.

anyway.

max has taught me things i never knew.  not even after one kid.  not even after all i learned from pratt.

max has taught me that good things come to those who wait.  that being first isn't necessary.  and sometimes it's not even fun.  he's reminded me that it's okay to get messy while eating.  that it's okay to open your mouth while it's still full of milk.

he's reminded me that it's good to stop and smell the flowers.  that it's a good thing to celebrate each step.  no matter how small it might look to someone else.

he's reminded me that everyone (even if they don't look it) is fighting some battle.  EVERYONE.

more than anything else, he has taught me patience.

because there isn't anything quite as difficult as listening to a therapist tell you that your baby just "needs more multisensory therapy" while your 5 year old won't stop talking.  won't stop asking questions of you...over the therapist...while you can see out of the corner of your eye, your 2 year old looking at you...quiet as a church mouse.

you want to scream.  and cry.  and throw something.  because you would give anything to just shut the five year old up.  and make the 2 year old scream something.  something like, "i love you mom." or even just "mom".  anything.

and then as quickly as the anger came...you feel guilt.  because what in the world are you mad about?  praise Jesus that the 5 year old is healthy.  and happy and CAN talk.  and the 2 year old, while mostly nonverbal...IS healthy.  and happy.  and it could be different.  and harder.  and it's just not.

and so you sit on that miniature kids couch.  dealing with all this.  wanting to cry. wanting to yell for your mom.  but instead, instead you shake your head.  and say okay.  and act like you're cool.

being a mom is hard.  so damn hard.

pratt.

a few things pratt has said recently.

please keep in mind he is four.  four, people.  four.

"momma.  i know what i want to take for snack.  artichokes.  everyone can have their very own butter dish.  with their own artichoke.  those kids will wov that, momma."

preschool.  he's talking about preschool.

i offered up a biscuit with jelly on it.  and his response:

"no fank you.  i prefer honey."

yes.  prefer.  he's 4.

so dang funny.  so, so funny.