Tuesday, February 22, 2011
I read about this book and my heart softened for a moment, and I took a deep breath in and out.
Doesn't it sound grand? A life of being, having and doing enough.
Wouldn't it be sweet if we felt we were 'enough' as parents of children with disabilities and that our children were 'enough' as well? Not 'enough' in the sense of 'good enough' -- but really, we wish we and they could be 'better' -- but 'enough' in the sense of 'full,' complete' or 'whole.' 'Enough' so that you could look at your child and only feel gratitude swell in your heart?
Instead, this morning I found myself feeling frantic about moving Ben's development forward.
I haven't had time to revise the communication app Proloquo2Go on his iPod and to actively get him using it. I gave the iPod to Ben on the weekend and he deleted Proloquo (a mistake, he said). My husband then spent ages trying to put the app back on unsuccessfully. He then attempted to put it onto the iPad I bought at Christmas, even though we couldn't afford it, because I thought it was a piece of technology Ben had to have. In doing so, he realized our Mac computer at home was incompatible with the iPad because it's so old.
So by the time I got to work I was feeling desperate that I HAD to buy a new Mac computer. In fact, I found myself in a place I've been so many times over the years with Ben. Where I latch onto some treatment or technology or experience that I believe will be life-changing for him. And I tell myself that if I can only get my hands on it, he'll be able to break through a disability barrier and realize himself more fully as a person. And I launch into all kinds of mental arguments as to why this is the only viable course of action.
Yet when I look back, I see I've sometimes made choices that weren't wise and didn't make sense -- or focused on the wrong things at the expense of others.
And it makes me wonder about finding a balance between forever questioning what 'more' can be done to help my child (in my case almost an adult) and starting from a place of loving and appreciating who he is, right now, and what we already have.