I’ve had some forced time at home the last few weeks, due to a nasty virus (not H1N1; I had myself tested). In some ways it’s been good to slow down. I had time alone with Regina this week, and time just watching the kids come and go and play with their friends in the yard and hang out at home, and I thought to myself once again,
“I can’t believe I’m the mother of these great kids. I am the luckiest mom.”
And no, the sentiment for my biological son wasn’t any different than my feelings for my daughters. As one adoptive dad said,
“Two of my children are adopted…I just forget which two.”
(I’m not advocating total denial. It’s a good idea to bring up adoption from time to time to see if your child is interested in pursuing the matter. But I think the father quoted probably meant to convey that the feelings of a parent for a child are the same. )
Last year I left a lengthy comment on one of Andrea’s Homeschooling blogs. She wrote about family dynamics and homeschooling, and whether there would be changes in the parent-child relationship. I wrote about my daughter’s evaluations for special needs, two months and eight months after we’d gotten her. Having a background in education and family services, I felt that I was able to give the evaluators (speech therapist, physical and occupational therapist, special ed teacher) good feedback at the first evaluation. Six months later, I admitted to having lost all objectivity. But as the parent, I’m allowed to.
And it isn’t hard. In a previous blog, I wrote that I always used to hear parents of special needs kids talk about how what once seemed like a major catastrophe doesn’t seem like a big deal; they deal with their children’s needs at the same time they avoid letting the children’s needs define their family relationships.
Regina’s repeating kindergarten this year at a different school with a smaller class. I’m still unsure of whether Regina will return to our church school with her siblings next year.
There was a time when, working in social services, I enthusiastically said it didn’t matter if a child needed more time to develop. Secretly I thought I’d be shocked if one of my kids had to repeat a grade. But it really is no big deal.
I’m still working to find the best ways to teach my older daughter who has learning disabilities. Some days I stew about it. Some days there’s just a lot on my plate. I may be harried in the short term, but underneath it all there is a deep current of peace…these kids are just fine.
And more than fine. So much more.