Just when I think Sweet G’s personality has completely blossomed he takes on a whole new level of energy, imagination, and spunkiness that proves me wrong. I can’t express how much he has changed in the last year; it is truly amazing.
When he first started to school at 3 years old I would try to get him to tell me about his day while we were driving home. Most of the time he could not tell me anything or at least anything that made sense to me. He didn’t have the verbal skills necessary to tell me about his day. This was a big concern for me because T came into this world communicating. Really, T did talk early and was speaking in full sentences by 15 months old. By 18 months old he could hold his own in a debate. Seriously. There was such a huge difference and it worried me and made me feel so isolated from G’s world.
Everything has come slow for our Sweet G. He didn’t take his first steps until he was 2 years old and then it was with a walker. He has yet to take an independent step or even stand independently. I think he could stand unassisted if he weren’t such a scaredy cat. However, he is brave in so many other ways. He endures the endless stretching, being strapped into a stander, sitting happily on the sidelines watching others play sports when he would love to be out there playing. He is a fighter and a lover.
Lately he has taken to calling me Karen. No, my name isn’t Karen. He doesn’t know anyone named Karen. Except for the robotic wife of Plankton on the cartoon SpongeBob Squarepants. He sings songs to me calling me his wife, Karen. He begs me to talk to him in my “computer” voice and giggles uncontrollably when I accommodate his wishes. He pleads for me to sleep with him every night recently because “I haven’t been getting enough loving, Momma.” Yeah, we all know that one is true. That’s the problem, he is adored.
Recently we were sitting in the parking lot of one of the home improvement stores in town. We had bought him a Dr. Pepper at Wal-Mart to bribe him into sitting quietly in the car with me while J could run into the store. It isn’t that he wanted to go in the store. He didn’t want to even be in the parking lot. But the Dr. Pepper did the trick and he was sitting sipping his wonderfully delicious Dr. Pepper while I made a phone call to my sister. In the middle of my conversation with her I hear his little voice say, “Uh, oh it’s splashing, it’s splashing.” That is not what you want to hear from your child who has just started drinking a 20 ounce soft drink. I turned to see him sitting in his seat, eyes wide open in panic, trying to get a hold on the now upside down Dr. Pepper. I figure at this point there is no reason to get excited or in a hurry. So, I hang up the phone and get some paper towels that are kept in the car and get out to walk around the car to his door.
As I walk around the back of our van I notice a river of golden brown liquid flowing through the parking lot. I follow it back to its source and am mortified that it is coming from our van. “It can’t be,” I said to myself. However when I opened the door to the van I only find a small trace of the sticky liquid has actually landed inside the car. Somehow, miraculously the drink had been aimed at the exact angle necessary to shoot it directly into the crack at the bottom of the door. There were only a few drips and splashes as evidence of the mishap. I was amazed. J however, wasn’t as understanding or astonished as I was. He is concerned with the liquid that ran down into the track of the door. It will be quite interesting to figure out how to remove it. Maybe I should just give Sweet G a 20 ounce bottle of water and see what happens. Who knows maybe the mess will take care of itself.