Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Sometimes Thomas's PT is almost as hard on me as it is on him. Last week was like that. He screamed the whole time, didn't want to work at all, made it seem like we were amputating with a plastic knife. Pam finally gave up and took her toys and went home.
Today was much better - he worked hard and actually had some fun. We read him stories between sets, made him giggle, showed him he could really do it. He has this little walker that Pam brought him. When she first brought it over I laughed out loud. I was convinced he would never cooperate enough to use it - it has no straps, no seat, nothing to help keep him upright. Oh me of little faith. Look at this kid! He's WALKING. Granted, he's screaming a little while he does it, but he's WALKING!
I am so proud of this kid. When we ask him to push himself, he does. He's going to preschool in the Fall. I'm terrified and excited all at the same time. How can I just drop him off someplace and trust them to have his best interests at heart? To cuddle him when he's scared? To know when only Bartleby will make it all better? What about all the breakthroughs? His TEACHERS will be the first to see them? I don't like it, but I'll adjust. I saw the place he's going and it's really nice. Fantastic playground, all the therapists he needs, an RN on staff. It's really a perfect spot. I still don't like the fact that this is the next step, but he's growing up! How did my baby boy get to be three years old? I know it took a lot of work to get here, and in a way I've done enough work for 10 years. Make that, THOMAS has done enough work for 10 years. But 3 years old? Isn't possible.
Posted by Anna Marie at 7:24 PM