Today I took Sam to his OT appointment. It can be fun spending time with just him. He really can be very sweet when he's not hysterically trying to take toys from others.
So we're in the waiting room and, FYI, kids these days are apparently pretty screwy because the waiting room usually has at least 4 other families in it. Flipping magazines and waiting. Nothing else to do.
Sam turns to me and says, "Mom?" (he always says mom first. "Mom?" "Mom?" "Mom?" as if I will be confused about who he's talking to when we're sitting around just me and him.)
"What's up, buddy?"
"When the baby comes could you please not scream at her?"
Well. Alrighty. Then. Could you say that a little louder? I'm not sure the people in the back conference room got that.
NOT cool, dude. Not cool. It's like at night, when I'm leaving his room, after getting his freshly laundered pajamas and then putting them on him, and brushing his teeth, and reading him a book, and he says, "Mom, I love you. Even when you scream at me."
I always respond, "And Sam, I love you, even when you are an awful, awful child."
Not really.
Really I scream that.
Anyway, we get called back and Sam and the therapist are doing their thing, and I realize that I am being exceptionally quiet. The thing is, it is really hard for me to watch their sessions. She's always pushing him to do things that he's not good at, and it's hard for me to watch him struggle. And sometimes, she'll get all exasperated with him if he doesn't understand what she wants or he doesn't want to do it. And, excuse me, but I'm the only one that gets to scream at my kid. So I kind of withdraw during the sessions.
Between Sam's comment in the waiting room, and my cold, distant behavior in the sessions, they are probably meeting about who's going to call children's services. So I made an effort to perk up and engage with the therapist.
I think I fooled them.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
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