The Never Normal

Please forgive me if I don’t answer every comment individually; the truth is I have two jobs now, a full-time gig and an assortment of writing gigs to complete when I get home from visiting with Jonah.  It doesn’t leave a lot of time to write back to all of you, though I want to.  But I hear you all and value and embrace everything you say to me.  And I thank you for reading…for not judging…for standing behind me and holding me up like supports to a shaky building.

Thank you.

My annual work convention went smoothly, exhausting as it always is, and I met lots of great people there.

Jonah and Andy managed well, considering Jonah’s aggressions at school on Thursday and Friday.  My cousin D was there to help, like an heroine/saint.  And Jonah did well yesterday – only one aggression at school – so when I got out of work, Andy and I gave him a ride to the train (something he’s been requesting a lot again lately, as well as peanut butter roll from Stewart’s) and we talked about the whole Springbrook vs. Tradewinds problem.

I think we’re both on board with the bird in the hand, with sending him to Tradewinds, rather than risk losing any placement at all if Springbrook can’t get him in their program.  But we still like Springbrook too and are hoping they’ll advocate for us.  I don’t think this is a pressing decision because neither place has an opening now – I may call Tradewinds today to see if they know how soon Jonah might be able to get in.

We’re both just so tired.  Especially Andy, I’m sure, though he seems stoic, brave, and resigned.  Now that spring is here Jonah asks for parks we can’t take him to for fear he’ll attack another child.  The waterfall is a possibility but it’s 40 minutes away and there’s no guarantee the snow isn’t gone yet.  And his left leg is bad.  He limps markedly every morning and after we give him a wagon ride, another thing he loves lately.  I called his pediatrician on Monday, e-mailed him on Tuesday, and have yet to hear anything.  You can’t tell me they can’t give him an MRI/x-ray/blood test right here in Albany without having to drive to Boston – a near impossibility considering his aggressions.  WTF.  I’m going to call back today.

Maybe he’s aggressing more because he’s in pain.  He can’t tell us when something hurts – he seems to consider everything about his life and his environment as something he must bear, and he does so with aplomb, except for when he is violent, of course.  Is it his only voice, the screaming and the scratching, the biting and the kicking?

My poor little boo.  Andy and I both think the placement will help all of this.  They have doctors and psychiatrists there, professionals and people who are trained to work 24/7 with these children.  We’re now reconciled not only to the inevitability of placement but to its necessity as well.  And we’re banking on its helping our son, bringing out the best in him – the smiles, his ability to learn and grow and be as independent as possible – to allow him to reach his fullest potential, even at the cost of “giving him up.”  If you’d told me 10 years ago that this would be my life, I would not have believed you.

But as they say, if you want to make God laugh, just tell him/her your plans.