Growing Discrepancy

When he was four and ran with a patter-patter-skip it wasn't so different than all the other four-year-olds' goofy gaits.  When he was five and couldn't ride a bike, well neither could most of the kindergartners.  When he was six and didn't say any R's or L's or blended sounds of any kind, he had company.  And so on. 

But as time goes by, he's getting left behind with his bike standing dusty in the garage and so many sounds still alluding him.

As I watched him run down the basketball court yesterday, his differences were accentuated by the fact that he hasn't been feeling well and by comparison to the court full of other eight-year-old boys.

Sometimes I felt weepy watching him. The differences between his physical skills and his peers' are growing not narrowing.  Then I'd shake my head and think, this was the kid we worried would be strapped in a wheel chair and mute.  Here he is running, crookedly and awkwardly, but running nonetheless. And then I'd feel weepy all over again. 

Thank goodness we'll be back to watching soccer games in the rain soon.  Easier to cry without being noticed.

 

I've recently taken up exercising,

and I've decided that it's not the exercising itself that is so bad,

it's the extra time needed for the showers and naps to recuperate
that swallow my whole day that stink. 

I think I'll take up napping instead.  No exercise or shower required. 

Proven Again

That anything that works with 3-year-olds will work with Seminary Students.

This was the vehicle that took us from the thoroughly furnished barbie house out to do our good works. 

I love Seminary Students!

Too Close for Comfort

The day after he proposed to me, Dallin was thrown from the back window of his pick-up truck and pinned underneath in the snow.  They super-glued his arm together and he was disappointed he didn't get a bigger scar.

At a few months old, I found Naomi under the water in our bathtub.  She was fine, but I cried for 8 hours straight. 

With three kids in the van, we flipped it over on icy roads and were suspended upside down from our seat belts while I asked whether everyone was fine.  The milli-second until they all answered was an eternity.

At Christmastime, Mark walked up two flights of stairs to find me while he was choking (not breathing) on a frozen strawberry. 

This week, Naomi dropped an extinguished match into her garbage can full of tissues.  Next time she looked, it was in full flame next to her bookcase.  Ten minutes later my biggest disappointment were the small holes in the new carpet. 

And last week, with Dallin less than 3 feet away, Mark pushed out the screen on Chas's second story window and landed unconscious on the deck 20 feet below. Two ambulance rides, two hospitals, and two days later we were home with a glow-in-the-dark cast on his arm and a sore, healthy, whole kid.

Thank God! Again!