Wow.
It's been ages since I've updated this blog! I can't believe it's been that long! No, wait. Let me rephrase that. I can't believe it's APRIL already! Where did all the time go? How do we just continue to pass through the days just like that.
Since it's April now, I've passed one birthday party already for my daughter - she turned three in February. I feel like I slept through the last year, all of a sudden, boom, she's THREE. She acts and speaks like she's thirteen instead of three though to be honest. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. And even though April has just started, May is just around the corner, lurking around.
May 26th will mark my son Matthew's seventh birthday. He is so sure that we'll through him this huge birthday party at McDonald's now that daddy dearest works there. He thinks that birthdays are the only time we all celebrate him (well, aside from when we celebrate him winning art competitions and stuff) but here's what he doesn't realize: we celebrate every single day of his life.
I'm not going to go into the details of how he was born and stuff because I've written about that a million times already. I don't need to repeat his birthweight and scares and stuff. What I do need to say here is that every single day, I am reminded of how lucky we are to have him, and how worrying really gets me nowhere.
The other day I shared this with my friends: all I have ever wanted (and still want) for Matthew is for him to be normal. NORMAL - in every sense of the word. His birth, his premature condition, his hearing, none of this was or is normal, and I pray everyday that he gets a normal life like every kid in he world. And you know what? He actually is leading a normal life - I've just been to wrapped up in my worries to actually realize it!
A few weeks ago, his teacher sent me a text message, informing me that he had thrown away one of his friends' glasses. At first, I was horrified. My son, the lovable and sweet Matthew, threw someone's glasses away on purpose? He made the kid cry? But then, it hit me. My son was acting NORMAL - he was just following what the other kids were doing. They were all teasing this kid with glasses (poor kid!) and he was just being a part of his group of friends and took part in it too. This sounds TERRIBLE, I know this, but for me, the bigger picture was that he was acting like a normal kid under peer pressure!
If by rejoicing to this fact it makes me a bad parent, well, whatever. What can I say? Call it whatever you want but when you're constantly worried that your kid doesn't turn out normal and he actually goes out and acts normal, how could you not be ecstatic??
For the record, I did apologize to the kid's mother and Matthew did get into trouble for his behavior. He apologized to the kid too, and promised never to do it again. He's back to being that sweet kid again, and I've reduced my level of worry these days. I think.
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label School. Show all posts
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Monday, July 26, 2010
Confessions of a Worry-wart (a.k.a. a Mom)
I woke up panting in bed this morning, having just had a bad dream. I dreamt that my son Matthew was running around screaming and in panic because he couldn't find me, while I was screaming behind him trying to catch up and calling his name, but he just couldn't hear me. When I finally caught up to him, we were both out of breath and both crying our eyes out, frustrated and frightened at the same time.
Why did I have this dream, you ask?
I'm not a dream expert, so you may not want to come to me when you want your dreams interpreted, but I know exactly why I had this particular dream.
See, we found out that my son has moderate hearing loss and needs hearing aids just before he started his first year of primary school. We went through a number of doctors and a gazillion tests, and at the end of the day, he still needed hearing aids so we got them for him. I was unfortunately in Paris the day we actually had to come and pick them up, so I didn't see him wear them the first time around. But the minute I saw the picture that my husband sent to me on my BlackBerry, I'll be honest with you, I burst into tears.
I have been having so many mixed feelings about this whole situation. On one hand, yes, I want him to be able to hear and speak like any other kid his age. I want him to be able to understand when we talk to him without me having to speak loudly and slowly to his face. I want to be able to hug him from behind and whisper "I love you" in his hear without him having to turn around and look at me like I was just trying to tickle his ear - so if hearing aids are the answer to all that, then yeah, I figured, let's do it. But on the other hand, I just don't want him to be different either. I don't want these things attached to his ears be something that kids can tease him about.
About a week ago, when I shared this with a trusted friend - who I admire and look up to - she told me, "What's the difference with kids who have to wear glasses? It's the same, it's just that hearing aids are less common than glasses," which I thought was profound. It made me feel a heck of a lot better at the time, but now I wish more people thought that way. When I shared Matthew's situation with some other friends, they looked at me with pity and said, "We hope he'll be OK with wearing that ugly thing." (Note to self: this very much proves the theory that what kinds of friends you hang out with truly does matter. You hang with the negative, you think negatively. You hang with the positive, and your whole outlook on life is entirely different).
I'm not going to lie, I worry for my son.
He's a cheerful boy, always happy and smiley, and is always positive about everything. He has no reservations about going up to other kids and asking them to play, and he has gotten along wonderfully with his new classmates at school. He is very confident and I never want this to change so I certainly don't want the hearing aids to change him into the opposite of all those things. But I guess everything that comes after this is beyond what I can control. For now, what I can do is encourage him to keep being the way he is, tell him that it's alright to be different and that everyone is different one way or another, and tell him how much we love him and how great we think he is. And of course, I can pray for him, the way I pray for him every day. The rest, I guess, is up to society. I really hope kids these days are better equipped with dealing with differences, not like how they used to be when I was growing up. I hope to God that kids these days are considerate, respectful and kindhearted. Is that too much to ask?
Why did I have this dream, you ask?
I'm not a dream expert, so you may not want to come to me when you want your dreams interpreted, but I know exactly why I had this particular dream.
See, we found out that my son has moderate hearing loss and needs hearing aids just before he started his first year of primary school. We went through a number of doctors and a gazillion tests, and at the end of the day, he still needed hearing aids so we got them for him. I was unfortunately in Paris the day we actually had to come and pick them up, so I didn't see him wear them the first time around. But the minute I saw the picture that my husband sent to me on my BlackBerry, I'll be honest with you, I burst into tears.
I have been having so many mixed feelings about this whole situation. On one hand, yes, I want him to be able to hear and speak like any other kid his age. I want him to be able to understand when we talk to him without me having to speak loudly and slowly to his face. I want to be able to hug him from behind and whisper "I love you" in his hear without him having to turn around and look at me like I was just trying to tickle his ear - so if hearing aids are the answer to all that, then yeah, I figured, let's do it. But on the other hand, I just don't want him to be different either. I don't want these things attached to his ears be something that kids can tease him about.
About a week ago, when I shared this with a trusted friend - who I admire and look up to - she told me, "What's the difference with kids who have to wear glasses? It's the same, it's just that hearing aids are less common than glasses," which I thought was profound. It made me feel a heck of a lot better at the time, but now I wish more people thought that way. When I shared Matthew's situation with some other friends, they looked at me with pity and said, "We hope he'll be OK with wearing that ugly thing." (Note to self: this very much proves the theory that what kinds of friends you hang out with truly does matter. You hang with the negative, you think negatively. You hang with the positive, and your whole outlook on life is entirely different).
I'm not going to lie, I worry for my son.
He's a cheerful boy, always happy and smiley, and is always positive about everything. He has no reservations about going up to other kids and asking them to play, and he has gotten along wonderfully with his new classmates at school. He is very confident and I never want this to change so I certainly don't want the hearing aids to change him into the opposite of all those things. But I guess everything that comes after this is beyond what I can control. For now, what I can do is encourage him to keep being the way he is, tell him that it's alright to be different and that everyone is different one way or another, and tell him how much we love him and how great we think he is. And of course, I can pray for him, the way I pray for him every day. The rest, I guess, is up to society. I really hope kids these days are better equipped with dealing with differences, not like how they used to be when I was growing up. I hope to God that kids these days are considerate, respectful and kindhearted. Is that too much to ask?
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
A Special Boy
Did I ever mention that my son has speech delay?
Yeah, well, he does.
Matthew is five years old now, and will be turning six in May. It's a miracle he's even around actually, so I guess I shouldn't be complaining about his speech delay or about him being small and underweight.
See, Matthew was born prematurely at 33 weeks, weighing slightly less than 2 pounds. He was an IUGR baby - which means that he wasn't growing in the womb. No one really knows why, the OB/GYN just said there may have been blood clotting the umbilical cord so he wasn't getting food (I was, and I gained so much weight it freaked me out). When he was born, he was so tiny, and the NICU doctor said he had a 50/50 chance of survival. They had to test everything: lungs, heart, brain, blablabla. But he was breathing on his own so the doctor said the chances were good. After 24 hours, they told me he would be fine and just had to catch up on growth. They also told me he would most likely have one or two delays, being premature and all. At the time, I just thought, yeah, whatever, as long as he's alive.
Well, he's definitely alive!
More than alive, he's extremely smart, talented, and he is such a well-behaved little boy. He can be cheeky at times, but hey, he's a five year old kid, it's expected!
When he was three, he was already doing puzzles for six year old kids. He draws better than me (OK, I suck at drawing so that probably doesn't count), and he has photographic memory. He remembers everything! He knows the route from home going to the mall, to my office, to his school - he remembers everything. In fact, I think the only reason he's doing so good in school (spelling tests, etc) is because he memorizes things. He's also so happy all the time. He's always smiling, laughing and the sparkle in his eyes makes me forget about all the bad things that happen in life: a bad day at work, a really nasty customer, sickness, whatever. One look at him and I can literally feel the negativity float away.
And, he's a really good big brother too. He is protective of her and always remembers to get her stuff when just the three of us (me, hubby and him) go to the mall without my daughter. He'd be all "Mama, buy this for Kaela!". It's so sweet it makes me tear up.
The thing is, this year all his friends will be starting 1st grade, and while we'd love for him to go to primary school too, it seems like there aren't a lot of schools out there who can accommodate his needs, and with his language and speech problem, it seems like he may have difficulty going to a normal school.
Over the past few weeks, my husband and I have been in a constant debate (not with each other - just with the options). Do we let him stay back another year and hope he catches up? Will he be OK being the only 7 year old in the class? (around here nowadays, people always go to 1st grade at the age of 6).
If we don't make him stay back, will he be too stressed out in school because he'll have a hard time in class? Will his friends make fun at him in class? Will a school even accept him with his speech problems? A million questions pop through our minds every second, and we can't seem to feel comfortable with ANY answer at this point. It seems like every option has some sort of negative impact so we can't feel like we're one hundred percent sure with what we decide.
Geez, being a parent really sucks sometimes.
So anyway, what we've been doing the past week is just trying to approach the schools one by one, asking if they can accommodate our special boy. We started out with a long list of schools, and I think we've crossed out all but 4 after speaking with them. I'll be calling the 3 schools tomorrow, and the 1 school has already said they can accept him, but it'll cost my husband and I an arm, a leg and a few other body parts, meaning that private school costs the same as 3 years of my college tuition. My husband says inflation, I say rip-off.
The only thing we can do right now is just pray. I guess, if we reach the bottom of the list with zero results, it must mean he's meant to stay back this year. But you know what, I'm hopeful. My boy has beaten the odds before, it's not impossible that he can do it again.
I'm trying to be positive. I'm trying to just stay grateful that he's even alive. I'm trying to keep my focus on the fact that he's such a healthy, wonderful, well-behaved, generous, kind and funny little boy. And that should be enough. Right?
Yeah, well, he does.
Matthew is five years old now, and will be turning six in May. It's a miracle he's even around actually, so I guess I shouldn't be complaining about his speech delay or about him being small and underweight.
See, Matthew was born prematurely at 33 weeks, weighing slightly less than 2 pounds. He was an IUGR baby - which means that he wasn't growing in the womb. No one really knows why, the OB/GYN just said there may have been blood clotting the umbilical cord so he wasn't getting food (I was, and I gained so much weight it freaked me out). When he was born, he was so tiny, and the NICU doctor said he had a 50/50 chance of survival. They had to test everything: lungs, heart, brain, blablabla. But he was breathing on his own so the doctor said the chances were good. After 24 hours, they told me he would be fine and just had to catch up on growth. They also told me he would most likely have one or two delays, being premature and all. At the time, I just thought, yeah, whatever, as long as he's alive.
Well, he's definitely alive!
More than alive, he's extremely smart, talented, and he is such a well-behaved little boy. He can be cheeky at times, but hey, he's a five year old kid, it's expected!
When he was three, he was already doing puzzles for six year old kids. He draws better than me (OK, I suck at drawing so that probably doesn't count), and he has photographic memory. He remembers everything! He knows the route from home going to the mall, to my office, to his school - he remembers everything. In fact, I think the only reason he's doing so good in school (spelling tests, etc) is because he memorizes things. He's also so happy all the time. He's always smiling, laughing and the sparkle in his eyes makes me forget about all the bad things that happen in life: a bad day at work, a really nasty customer, sickness, whatever. One look at him and I can literally feel the negativity float away.
And, he's a really good big brother too. He is protective of her and always remembers to get her stuff when just the three of us (me, hubby and him) go to the mall without my daughter. He'd be all "Mama, buy this for Kaela!". It's so sweet it makes me tear up.
The thing is, this year all his friends will be starting 1st grade, and while we'd love for him to go to primary school too, it seems like there aren't a lot of schools out there who can accommodate his needs, and with his language and speech problem, it seems like he may have difficulty going to a normal school.
Over the past few weeks, my husband and I have been in a constant debate (not with each other - just with the options). Do we let him stay back another year and hope he catches up? Will he be OK being the only 7 year old in the class? (around here nowadays, people always go to 1st grade at the age of 6).
If we don't make him stay back, will he be too stressed out in school because he'll have a hard time in class? Will his friends make fun at him in class? Will a school even accept him with his speech problems? A million questions pop through our minds every second, and we can't seem to feel comfortable with ANY answer at this point. It seems like every option has some sort of negative impact so we can't feel like we're one hundred percent sure with what we decide.
Geez, being a parent really sucks sometimes.
So anyway, what we've been doing the past week is just trying to approach the schools one by one, asking if they can accommodate our special boy. We started out with a long list of schools, and I think we've crossed out all but 4 after speaking with them. I'll be calling the 3 schools tomorrow, and the 1 school has already said they can accept him, but it'll cost my husband and I an arm, a leg and a few other body parts, meaning that private school costs the same as 3 years of my college tuition. My husband says inflation, I say rip-off.
The only thing we can do right now is just pray. I guess, if we reach the bottom of the list with zero results, it must mean he's meant to stay back this year. But you know what, I'm hopeful. My boy has beaten the odds before, it's not impossible that he can do it again.
I'm trying to be positive. I'm trying to just stay grateful that he's even alive. I'm trying to keep my focus on the fact that he's such a healthy, wonderful, well-behaved, generous, kind and funny little boy. And that should be enough. Right?
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