The truth is I was surprised to find out that there was something scientific wrong with Eric. And I was shocked that it had a name.
I had secretly thought that his problems were my fault, and if only I had been making ABC photo books for Eric like I had for Paul, Eric would have been reading already. I had been so proud of myself for not comparing him to Paul. But I thought Paul was a genius, so Eric must just be average. And I was proud of myself for accepting that! But now I had to admit that Paul might be average and Eric was, perhaps, below average.
Had I lowered my expectations too much?
Meanwhile Paul was feeling put out with all of the extra attention Eric is receiving. I thought Paul was suffering from his own APD: Anxiety and Perpetual Disappointment! I wasn’t not sure how much therapy that would involve.
The only regular Speech and Language appointment we could get was mid-morning. Since his appointment was on Thursday and the building was two blocks from the farmer’s market, I figured Bill would take Eric to the market (father-son bonding at its best) and then walk him over to his appointment. I figured wrong.
“I just like to go home after the market,” my husband explained. “I’ll have salmon in the car.”
“Okay, you can drop him at Speech, go to the market, pick him up and come home.”
“That sounds so complicated,” he responded with a straight face, “and his appointment isn’t until 10. I like to get the salmon by 9.”
Could my husband be having an affair with the fish lady at the farmer’s market? That would actually be preferable to the chance that he was just being a jerk.
We compromised and agreed that he would take Paul to school on Thursdays. That meant I had time to get my coffee first. At least one of us had our priorities straight.
Honestly I wanted Bill to be part of this. I was overwhelmed.
So I ended up taking Eric first to Speech and then onto school. Transitions were still tricky, and while Eric usually liked to arrive late to the action, it turns out he did not like to miss any school. We had just enough time to get to school in time for him to have a little outside free play before heading back in to work.
I was thrilled that he was enjoying school and hoped he would take to Speech just as quickly.
His therapist was a cute blonde with a swingy bob, and since Eric liked his ladies cute and blonde, it was a good pairing. She was friendly but no nonsense, ignoring the bad behavior and encouraging the good. Of course, she made it look easy, and he seemed to enjoy going.
Eric was a sharp kid and he was aware that there was stuff he wasn’t getting. He didn’t want people to think he was dumb.
He knew that he needed extra help.
He understood that he learned differently than most other kids. He was visual, verbal, and tactile. His hearing was fine, but he had trouble processing what he heard. Since he had a hard time hearing the difference between words that were similar, like coat and boat or sounds like ch and sc, he needs visual cues to reinforce what he was hearing.
He needed extra time to process what he heard, so we needed to face him, speak slowly and clearly, and use simple language.
When I first noticed he had a delay, I thought it was because I talked too much and too fast. I jumped from subject to subject and have a hard time completing my thoughts let alone my actions. Even though I began each day with the best intentions, half the stuff I wanted to get done did not. I was easily distracted.
I wondered, could Eric’s problems with sequencing and consistency have anything to do with the fact that even though I say, “never eat on the couch” I sometimes do let them eat on the couch and I sometimes let him have dessert before dinner?
Was this my fault?
Was there actually a way to cure Eric? Would he always have this disorder? I secretly wished it were something I could treat with medication.
The biggest lesson for me was to slow down.
And that this was not my fault.
Read more from the Kindergarten Chronicles.
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Love this series! Really enjoying your blogs!