Erik Quinn: The Heart of a Family: Bubbles

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Bubbles

Brian set up my first brand new washing machine yesterday. It even has a rubbery new car smell to it. There is a glass porthole in the front, and Erik sat cross-legged on the floor before it to observe the first load of jeans we placed inside whirl around. He loudly reported whether the drum was spinning slowly or quickly. I suspect it will provide hours of entertainment for us both on rainy days. I was disappointed to discover it doesn't feature cup holders or a snack tray of any sort.

Erik's grandparents arrived yesterday from out of town, and he pulled out all the stops showing off for them. He did somersaults. He sang "Jingle Bells" in its entirety when the song was briefly mentioned in a casual conversation, even though it has been months since he heard the words. For the grand finale, he actually added onto our dinnertime prayer, thanking God for his grandmother and grandfather. He has never done this before. I only wish I had a photo of our faces during moments like these. Brian and I always cease what we are doing and slowly and cautiously glance over at each other to confirm whether or not we are hallucinating.

Priceless.

I drove to Erik's school Friday to sign paperwork. He will attend school twice a week from 9:15 to 11:45 in the morning starting in two weeks. He will ride the little school bus home again, as he seemed to enjoy that last year and it saved me another trip across town. This will be his second year of preschool, and many of the children he attended with last year are enrolled with him again. I guess it's time to start shopping for a kindergarten now. His IEP next year will be the beginning of the real deal. For now, I have one more year of comfort hidden inside the familiar, thick-walled bubble of special education. I can't begin to imagine what it will feel like to immerse him in a class of largely typical peers. We are both not close to being ready for that yet, and I suspect that will be very difficult, at least for me, at first. Then again, being thrust into the early intervention program was probably the most difficult thing I have ever experienced. I feel like a veteran in the building now and am now completely comfortable there. Friday I was introduced to his new speech therapist in the hallway, and when Erik's diagnosis was revealed to her by Erik's teacher, she nodded and seemed familiar with it. I could feel my eyes squint slightly as my skepticism kicked in and I scrutinized her young, fresh face, but she then asked me if Erik was taking music lessons yet, reassuring me she wasn't crammed full of baloney after all. Most professionals here who claim to know about WS are. Especially physicians (although they are full of something much more odoriferous). As it turns out, this woman worked at a special school in Massachusetts with children who had Williams. Needless to say, I almost fell over.

Unfortunately, sleep is in short supply this morning. I didn't even make it until 2 a.m. Hopefully, the rest of the world will wake up soon and join me. For now, I watch the sun come up over the desert and fantasize about devouring a Belgian waffle topped with strawberries and whipped cream.

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2 Comments:

Blogger Jenny B said...

I wish I lived in the desert. I'm always trying to get my husband to move there! By the way, thanks for your support in the form of commenting on my blog. It means so much to have this group who understands! I love you blog and writing style. I always read it - just always don't have time to comment! Hope you all are having a great holiday weekend!

1:26 PM  
Blogger Miss 1999 said...

I'm totally envious of your new washing machine! WANT! I'm so glad to hear that Erik's speech therapist has a good knowledge of WS. It's so hard finding a good special education teacher. My aunt taught special ed for almost 30 years, and worked hard with the children she had. I pray that Erik will have a teacher like her that loves her students, and gives her all to help them *hugs*

11:24 PM  

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