Should He Stay or Should He Go?

Louie has been on fall break for the past two weeks. His school has a balanced calendar and fall break is three weeks. I was apprehensive about him having so much time "off". This is the longest break he has had since starting early intervention two and a half years ago. He regressed in some areas during his one week Christmas break last year.

The first four days of fall break were, ummm...hmm...filled with hair-pulling, pushing, kicking and crying; but mostly hair pulling. Louie pulling Ace's. I walked in the room numerous times just in time to see Louie grabbing a handful of Ace's hair and proceeding to pound his head on the floor.

So far we haven't seen any regression; he has actually made progress. He is walking unassisted and without prompting about 70% of the time, making transitions between two different surfaces and going over door thresholds. He's also beginning to walk on carpet! And, he just started babbling "buh"! Trust me, that's big stuff.

Being able to spend this time with my two boys and seeing Louie continuing to make progress during his break provokes me to toss (toss, obsess, what's the difference?) around the questions about the efficacy of early intervention and pre-school.

When Louie is in school from 7:30 a.m. until 1:00 p.m. and naps from 1:30 p.m. until 4:30 and goes to bed at 7:30, there's not a lot of time for a relationship. Louie and I have spent the past two weeks connecting in ways we never have. Or haven't in a long time.

Louie has been "working" since he was 8 months old, when I practically blindly signed him over to the world, to the professionals, the therapists, the doctors. All with the goal to provide him with the skills to live in the world the way we live in the world? To act "appropriately"? To play appropriately? To make eye contact? To torture him with blood draws and echo cardiograms? I know, he needs these skills, these acceptable behaviors, the assurance of a healthy heart and thyroid levels.

Tonight, though, I sit and ask myself this question: When does this child get to be a child? And experience real, unprompted or self-made, self-directed joy? The way he has since he's been at home with us?

I've been missing spending time together since he started pre-K. And before that, his schedule was similar but at least I was with him more since some therapies were at our house. But he has made more progress in the past 9 weeks of pre-K than more than two years in early intervention. So is this about me? Or is this about him? Is it about living in a connected family?

We're loving not getting up at 6:30, not getting ready to go anywhere and staying in our pajama's till 10:00 a.m.. Lots of snacking, wagon rides, going to the park, listening to Louie's favorite relaxation music Cd's, doing puzzles and stemming out on stuff if we feel like it. Louie repetitively turns his maraca on, then off, then on, then to Spanish, to English, back to Spanish, low volume, high volume and repeat. We let Louie stay up until 9:00 p.m., one night, eating popcorn and reading People magazine, thumbing back and forth between Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel's trip to Italy and the back cover, that just so happened to have an ad with about 500...can you guess? Road signs! He has such an affection for signage of all types.

We've been enjoying our somewhat lazy fall break days.  Ace "saw" and felt the wind for the first time the other day. When was the last time you were there when someone became aware of wind? At first he was scared, bewildered; but then he began to understand it, expect it, and laughed as it blew through his thin brown hair.

Yesterday, Louie awkwardly pushed a toy grocery cart along the uneven surface of our backyard. Ace, close behind, was practically running to catch up, his grace and strength emitting from his tiny body like the sunlight splashing through the spaces between autumn's changing leaves. Two brothers, and for one, nothing is easy. For the other, it all comes with such ease and instinct. The miracle of human development. A fascinating miracle.

I've been watching the two of them a lot lately and thinking, if only I could stop time and hold this moment. If only I could wrap up every baby laugh and squeal, memorize every inch of Louie's wobbly string bean legs and Ace's chunky thighs, if only I could save these days to savor again later. Otherwise, how will I remember these miracles, these gifts, that are passing almost invisibly, like a steady wind through my life?  These babies will become men.  These moments will become memories left to blow softly in my hazy mind's eye.