Our Noisy New Normal
Day 9 of this 31 for 21 challenge and I'm already sick of talking about Down syndrome. A few months after Kelly was born, I found that I was comfortable with his diagnosis. Not happy, but no longer sad. I was, however, sick to death of thinking, reading, talking, and learning about Down syndrome. I really wanted to go one single day without thinking the words "Down syndrome." It made me angry. I wanted to be like we were before his birth. I just wanted to back to our old normal.
Our new normal has Down syndrome in it every day. Not just once or twice. I don't get up in the morning and think, "My son has Down syndrome." But when I watch my 21 month old bear crawl instead of walk while I make his breakfast and sign for more while I spoon it into his mouth instead of yelling at me for more while he shovels it in himself, I know he has Down syndrome.
I've heard other DS mothers liken it to constant background noise. It's just always there. Every minute of every day. But in the background, without much of a nod, without much distraction. A couple times an hour, though, it gets loud enough to get my full attention. Every couple hours, it becomes the focus of our whole family.
I assume, as the years go by, I'll get used to that. Like a new haircut or a piercing. It'll still be there. I'll still, just as often, pay it some mind, but it won't have that same intensity. It'll become as much a part of our new normal as Kelly is a part of our family.
I know some families make Down syndrome a big part of what defines them. They become involved in the support groups, lobbying, awareness, fundraising. Their friends all have some connection the DS community. Like a hobby or a family sport. But that's not us. It never will be us.
And so it is that I'm already sick of talking about Down syndrome and refuse to talk any more on it today. I will instead talk about Kelly and his day. He lost his socks. And his pants. Several times, in fact. How, pray tell, does one lose one's pants? I haven't a clue. But every time I took my eyes off the kids, his pants were off and completely MIA. They were cute, too. John Lennon brand blue jeans in honor of the man's 71st birthday. Maybe Kelly just isn't a dreamer. Well, he's not the only one.
He crawled all over the hairdresser's while RK was getting her mohawk. One of the hairdressers is going to school to be a child psychologist to work with special ed kids. She quickly fell in love with him which Kelly caught onto quickly. He then immediately took advantage of the fact, throwing bottles of conditioner all over the place and playing in the pile of hair. He's a player.
He also hung out at the YMCA nursery which might as well be dubbed the Kellster Fan Club Headquarters. He's a bit of a superstar there. The workers trip all over themselves to get at him and the other kids love him almost as much. A little toddler girl was standing next to him while he kept poking her in the cheek and she just kept coming back for more. I'm pretty sure he thinks he's king.
He also climbed up some unpacked boxes and started banging glass frames together to much laughter and applause by his closest sister, Iryna. The Ogre (yours truly) came along and put a stop to that. He climbed into the shower to clean up with me. He even grabbed the shampoo, put some in his hand, and, with a little coaching, shampooed his hair. In the interest of full disclosure, I'll tell you, without the coaching, he would have just kept licking the shampoo off his hand. But really, who can blame him when it's mango scented!
He's right now sleeping like an angel, sprawled out in his crib, snug in his Chicago Bears jammies and a Blackhawks blanket. My sweet, sweet baby boy.
Our new normal has Down syndrome in it every day. Not just once or twice. I don't get up in the morning and think, "My son has Down syndrome." But when I watch my 21 month old bear crawl instead of walk while I make his breakfast and sign for more while I spoon it into his mouth instead of yelling at me for more while he shovels it in himself, I know he has Down syndrome.
I've heard other DS mothers liken it to constant background noise. It's just always there. Every minute of every day. But in the background, without much of a nod, without much distraction. A couple times an hour, though, it gets loud enough to get my full attention. Every couple hours, it becomes the focus of our whole family.
I assume, as the years go by, I'll get used to that. Like a new haircut or a piercing. It'll still be there. I'll still, just as often, pay it some mind, but it won't have that same intensity. It'll become as much a part of our new normal as Kelly is a part of our family.
I know some families make Down syndrome a big part of what defines them. They become involved in the support groups, lobbying, awareness, fundraising. Their friends all have some connection the DS community. Like a hobby or a family sport. But that's not us. It never will be us.
And so it is that I'm already sick of talking about Down syndrome and refuse to talk any more on it today. I will instead talk about Kelly and his day. He lost his socks. And his pants. Several times, in fact. How, pray tell, does one lose one's pants? I haven't a clue. But every time I took my eyes off the kids, his pants were off and completely MIA. They were cute, too. John Lennon brand blue jeans in honor of the man's 71st birthday. Maybe Kelly just isn't a dreamer. Well, he's not the only one.
He crawled all over the hairdresser's while RK was getting her mohawk. One of the hairdressers is going to school to be a child psychologist to work with special ed kids. She quickly fell in love with him which Kelly caught onto quickly. He then immediately took advantage of the fact, throwing bottles of conditioner all over the place and playing in the pile of hair. He's a player.
He also hung out at the YMCA nursery which might as well be dubbed the Kellster Fan Club Headquarters. He's a bit of a superstar there. The workers trip all over themselves to get at him and the other kids love him almost as much. A little toddler girl was standing next to him while he kept poking her in the cheek and she just kept coming back for more. I'm pretty sure he thinks he's king.
He also climbed up some unpacked boxes and started banging glass frames together to much laughter and applause by his closest sister, Iryna. The Ogre (yours truly) came along and put a stop to that. He climbed into the shower to clean up with me. He even grabbed the shampoo, put some in his hand, and, with a little coaching, shampooed his hair. In the interest of full disclosure, I'll tell you, without the coaching, he would have just kept licking the shampoo off his hand. But really, who can blame him when it's mango scented!
He's right now sleeping like an angel, sprawled out in his crib, snug in his Chicago Bears jammies and a Blackhawks blanket. My sweet, sweet baby boy.
posted by The Histrionics of a Fat Housewife at 10:55 PM
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