My Michelin Man

Last week I sat in the small conference room at my son's school surrounded by the team of school support staff, and my ex husband. I signed the required paperwork, and listened to my parental rights, and then sat with ears perked as everyone spoke to Ethan's progress, growth, and continued challenges. As we all shared stories, concerns, and suggestions, I couldn't help flashing back to the fat little baby who stole my heart each and every day of his young life, and of the sweet little toddler who was anxious, awkward, and clearly delayed. My son is now 8, almost 9, and has come so far from those early days of doctor visits, trips to psychologists and therapists offices, and my whirlwind journey in getting him services and help.

It was over 5 years ago when my precious little boy threw me for the biggest loop when he had what I now know was an anxiety attack at a local park. Ethan was 3, and was exploring the play structure while I trailed closely behind. It was an early morning, and the park was nearly empty. He seemed happy and content. However, within a 10-15 minute time span the park became crowded. Moms, children, tricycles, balls, and sand toys quickly abounded. My boy within minutes became extremely overwhelmed. Instead of continuing to play amongst the surroundings, and to explore the new additions and little people, I found Ethan crouched down by a tree, crying, and saying, "Go home momma, go home." He was anxious and afraid, and I was perplexed and worried. It was then that my focus and plans for this little guy took a whole new direction. For months I made Ethan's diagnosis and treatment plan my largest focus. So much so that I neglected myself, and developed shingles (probably due to all those late night stress sessions pouring over anything Google could bring me about developmental delays, Autism, etc.). As I traveled down every avenue searching for information and help for my son, some were less than optimistic and not really helpful. I ignored those folks. Instead I found help for my boy through the school district, the Speech and Language Clinic at Fresno State (special shout out to Christine Maul - a wonderful professor and advocate for children with special needs, and a friend and mentor to me at the time), and I found great hope and help through the Brent Woodall Foundation for Children. (Check out their website. http://www.woodallkids.org/ They are awesome!) With special therapies and preschools, along with interventions at home, Ethan began to learn, and overcome some of his cognitive and language struggles. And at the age of 6 he entered regular ed kindergarten, even though we paid a neuropsychologist some big bucks 3 years prior to tell us that regular education, and possibly public school all together wouldn't be an option for Ethan. Poo on you Mr. Psych! You were SO wrong! Ethan is now in the 3rd grade, and functions quite well in the regular classroom. He has a few interventions and modifications, and continues to work to overcome some of his struggles, but boy has he been successful.

When my babies were born, I loved them more than life itself, and I couldn't imagine them not growing up to be smart, wise, successful, etc. You know, we moms think it is going to be OUR kid who finds the cure for cancer. ;) My naivety may have been exposed through this process of being Ethan's mom/advocate/cheerleader, but one thing I know for sure now is that Ethan can and will be exactly what and who he is supposed to be, and I will love him more and more every day. During the stressful and uncertain early days of getting Ethan diagnosed I remember crying one night, and saying to his father, "But I don't want him to just grown up and bag groceries for the rest of his life!" To that, his dad replied, "You have got to accept that that might be the best Ethan can do, and as long as he is happy, it will be ok." His dad was right. So now I say, Ethan you become whatever you want to. Grow up and bag groceries if your heart desires. Teach, build, drive, blow our minds, or whatever. Just be happy, and let the world see your beautiful and pleasant spirit, and don't for one day hide those adorable dimples from anyone. My "Michelin Man" baby is now a big boy, and I love him big time!