WHEN A CHILD OUTGROWS THE SAFETY NET
By LISA ROMEO
Published: May 13, 2007
When Sean was 12, he started to leave the land of special needs that he and I had inhabited for a long time.
Sean’s preschool teacher had suggested he should be evaluated for developmental issues.
My amateurish research suggested the end of the autism spectrum.The experts agreed on a list of therapies.
I kept reading, about mothers who improvised at-home behavior reinforcement and therapy.
He’s been telling me that his music teacher is the coolest playing the drums and for the first time at the School concert, beginning drummers, including Sean, would perform as a group.
Sean may not be so different now, but I will always be a different mother, with memories of an adolescent with an amazing vocabulary, recovered of a thousand traumas,
Mostly, I hope Sean, and others, will not remember all I did.
At the school concert I notice, abruptly, that Sean does not stand out. They make novice mistakes, until the final song is played, everyone in rhythm, in sync.
I smile at Sean and he smiles back — not at me, but at the girl, the one he unwittingly bumped off the jungle gym in kindergarten.
Sean’s preschool teacher had suggested he should be evaluated for developmental issues.
My amateurish research suggested the end of the autism spectrum.The experts agreed on a list of therapies.
I kept reading, about mothers who improvised at-home behavior reinforcement and therapy.
He’s been telling me that his music teacher is the coolest playing the drums and for the first time at the School concert, beginning drummers, including Sean, would perform as a group.
Sean may not be so different now, but I will always be a different mother, with memories of an adolescent with an amazing vocabulary, recovered of a thousand traumas,
Mostly, I hope Sean, and others, will not remember all I did.
At the school concert I notice, abruptly, that Sean does not stand out. They make novice mistakes, until the final song is played, everyone in rhythm, in sync.
I smile at Sean and he smiles back — not at me, but at the girl, the one he unwittingly bumped off the jungle gym in kindergarten.
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