Sunday, July 21, 2013

Baby Steps to Big Boy Steps


Here's Gus around the time he first started school at Early Invervention.

Gus was about a year old when he attended his first Early Intervention class outside of our home.  I was fortunate to have a flexible work schedule at that time on Mondays, which enabled me to be the one who accompanied him most frequently to school. 

After delivering our student to the classroom, I would sit in a tiny chair in the corner as far away from the action as I could get.  Gus would participate in activities under the watchful eye of a teacher designated to be his buddy for the morning.  He would start off enthusiastically in the new project before him, but inevitably he would realize that I wasn’t next to him anymore.  He’d stop what he was doing and suddenly scan the room in a slight panic to find me.  Making eye contact, I’d smile and wave back at him encouragingly hoping that he wouldn’t bug out.  Content that I had not abandoned him, Gus would return to the activity at hand.     

I think on paper, the teachers expected at least one or two classes before a new addition can be left alone by his or her parent.  During the first couple of classes, I would slip out the door at an opportune moment and sneak over to a room where I could look through the window to observe.  Once Gus realized that I was gone for real, though, he would start to cry as his teacher consoled him and attempted to steer his attention back to the activity.

The torture of watching my boy bawling would lead me back into the classroom where I’d comfort Gus and apologize for having deserted him.  The pattern repeated itself for many consecutive classes.  After a while, the teachers and Michelle staged an intervention to inform me that the person having the most difficulty with letting go was actually just me.  After accepting that I was the obstacle to Gus’ independence, I bit the bullet and finally stayed behind the glass window.  Not long thereafter, Gus survived and so did I.

Up to that point in his Early Intervention, all of Gus’ therapists came to our home where Michelle was able to be our eyes and ears about 99% of the time.  Having been rarely present for the home visits, I was mostly ignorant of the true effort that went into the various therapies he was receiving.  While Michelle had been a first-hand witness to the true effectiveness of say PT or OT, I remained somewhat of a skeptic in those early months.  I was never against Gus receiving Early Intervention at all.  And I definitely liked all of the therapists I had met.  But sometimes I might wonder silently if imitating animal noises or reaching for toys from his belly really constituted a “therapy” that required the time of an expert.  Still, I demurred because everyone who had an informed opinion of the situation unanimously agreed that Early Intervention was the appropriate place for us to be.  

Once I started to tag along with Gus to his classes, though, my outlook changed quickly.  I was then actually witnessing firsthand the Early Intervention folks when they were in action both with Gus and his classmates.  I began to fully appreciate the depth of what these teachers were doing.  As if it’s not difficult enough to manage typical toddlers (think “herding cats” and then some,) imagine a room of kids with all sorts of special needs sitting with ease in a circle singing and signing "Twinkle, Twinkle."  All the while, each of the professionals are smiling and laughing along with the kids, calmly addressing whatever disruption might spontaneously ensue.  Meanwhile, I could see Gus' advancements progressing in and out of school.  Although it may resonate as hyperbole with the reader, I came to believe sincerely that these therapists were mini-miracle workers.

With every passing week, the trips to Brockton became routine.  As Gus received his schooling, I would socialize with the parents of other kids enrolled at the center.  There was always a feeling of “safe” that I experienced with these other moms and dads.  The school was a location where the kids and parents alike were guaranteed to be free absolutely from the fear of judgment or misunderstanding from any onlooker.     

Gus eventually added a yoga class to his circuit of therapies, which quickly became a major highlight for me to observe.  I mean seriously, does it get any cuter than watching two year-olds assume a Namaste pose or slither like a snake on the floor?  Ask him to do downward facing dog and see what he does.

In the last few months, unfortunately, my work commitments prevented me from being the caregiver to accompany Gus on his Monday visits.  Still, Michelle kept me in the loop every day at dinner time about Gus’ ups and downs with his beloved ladies of Early Intervention. 

On the very day of Gus’ third birthday this week, his educational responsibilities will transition by law from Early Intervention to the Town of Easton.  I’ve already stashed boxes of Kleenex in various strategic locations throughout the house for my baby mama come Tuesday.  A school bus or van will make its inaugural pick-up of our big boy  at 7:10 a.m.  And just like that, the page to a new chapter in our family’s lives will begin.

Meanwhile, a six week-old baby in our community could very well begin his or her first session of physical therapy in a living room that morning.   I want that baby’s potentially skeptical mom or dad to know a few things.  You are definitely doing the right thing for your child.  You are all extremely lucky for the access to a most phenomenal team of professionals who will quite literally change your child’s life for the better.  And you will look back in three years with wonder at how fast the time flies.

Special thanks, gratitude, appreciation, and love to the folks at BAMSI who have taught Gus so much and helped him to prepare for the next stage of his life.  I would be remiss if I didn’t specifically thank Kristie, Caitlin, Lauren, Mary, Aline, and Nina for every minute of their expertise, time, patience, encouragement, affection, and hard work spent with our little boy who is now officially a Pre-K student!  Last but not least, I thank Jen for all of her efforts in coordinating this somehow enjoyable chaos that has been the last three years of Early Intervention. 

As much as it will probably kill me inside, I promise that I will not get on the bus with Gus this week even if he turns to look for me.  


Gus on Graduation Day from EI last week.

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Quick Thoughts While Tilly Naps, Greta’s at a Party, and Gus Tosses Books Around the Living Room


In Tilly’s Star Wars lingo, “Upffffffffffffff” is when she wants you to pick her up when you’re standing, while “Upeeeeeeeeeees” is when she wants you to pick her up out of her high chair.  You need to know these things…

The first non-children’s song that Gus sings along to is Ryan Macklemore’s “Same Love.”  He likes to chime in on the “to” part with great enthusiasm during the lyric that goes “Even if I tried, even if I wanted to…”  His lips stick out in an exaggerated way and he looks really cute.  As Shosh would say, “Hilar.”…

Greta is a happy hummer when she’s absorbed in a project like coloring or puzzles.  You can’t help but smile when you hear her.  Her hums kind of have like a feng shui effect on me.  I think I should record her some time so I can play it as background music at work…

I know everyone is probably worried sick, but my right quadriceps injury is feeling much better thank you.  Not sure if it’s an IT-band issue or the quad itself.  It only hurts now when I squat down.  Moments like the quad make me realize how miraculous it is for any professional athlete to be playing sports after they turn 35.  I’ve managed to complain about the quad every day for at least the last two weks so I’m gonna memorialize it here in the blog for posterity’s sake.  I can’t imagine what I’m going to be like when I’m 80…

Matilda Carol Teravainen a/k/a Tilly a/k/a Tills a/k/a The Mountain Goat…

In addition to discovering the joy of peeing on the potty, Gus has discovered the joy of pulling out his junk from beneath his diaper and displaying his Texas Belt Buckle.  Although I’m happy that he’s becoming acquainted with his equipment, I’m still at a loss for words when attempting to explain how that’s not exactly what is meant by hanging out…

Greta DOES NOT like when people clap or cheer for her.  Moving on…

I do not like touching any of the following: wet sponges, cotton balls, and juniper branches…

Gus is graduating from Early Intervention in 10 days!!!!!!!  This is probably worthy of a single blog unto itself but I wanted to make the announcement nonetheless…

Gotta go, Tilly's waking up.