sometimes seeing is believing

Benjamin is the kind of kid who is easy to love.  He smiles easily, he laughs genuinely, and will kiss you on the mouth if you let him.  It's no secret that I threw out the milestone chart years ago once it become an enemy in our house, (and interestingly, I have no idea where Ethan now lies on this chart because of it) and part of me still wonders why we go to see our regular Pediatrician for well-child visits.  They don't know my child, nor do they really care.  They get their paperwork, grab their pen, and start going down their list of things that he is or isn't doing.  Well, surprise surprise, he falls short of what a four year old is "supposed" to be doing.  We get disappointed frowns when Benjamin isn't tracing letters appropriately and looks of disgust when we talk about potty training while he's still four.  (Which btw, has been so wonderful for the past two weeks, so in your face Pediatrician!)  Yes, I really do wonder why we still go seem them... .

And then we go see the Neuro doctors and they LOVE him.  They love every part of him, they encourage every part of his development, every part of his incontinent little self.  They SEE him.  I appreciate those of you who see him for who he is, and for who he isn't.  They have perspective, they have sympathy, and best of all, they encourage me.  I'm not suggesting that you all ditch your Pediatricians and run for a Neuro doctor (they aren't all like McDreamy on tv, trust me), but what I am saying is that if you walk out of your child's appointments and consistently feel like a failure as a parent, it's time to get a new doctor.

Green..

Occasionally, I am a bit jealous of normal problems that parents have with their children.  Isn't that the silliest thing you've ever heard?  Me being jealous of a bad situation that other people are experiencing.  Such an odd thing to envy.  When I am in Mom circles, the talk will inevitably turn to something that their child is doing that is driving them up the wall, and I can't help but to sit back and listen, enraptured in their dilemma.  I usually just smile, nod, and say the polite things, but honestly, I never quite know what to say.  Part of me wants to say, "Yeah, that sucks that your two year isn't potty trained... but what if my child has no meaningful conversational skills past the age of a five year old when he's an adult.. what if my child never actually becomes a fully-functioning adult?".  These are the things that I sit and ponder when complaints arise.  Thank God for cookies because they're usually handy for stuffing in your mouth when you have nothing to say and wish to avoid awkwardness. 

It seems like my life is full of awkward moments.