Today was Monday, October 31, 2011, Halloween. Not normally a “school” day for Stevie, but they were having a trick-or-treat party and we were told we could bring him in for the event. When we got to his classroom the kids, about half a dozen or so, and a few of the parents were sitting down at their tiny chairs, for an afternoon snack of fishy crackers and apple juice boxes. Stevie was very clingy and wanted Jani to hold him. No doubt he thought we were bringing him to school to be dropped off. The teacher thought it might put him at ease if he joined in for snack time. So, Jani sat down in one of those comically small chairs and helped Stevie enjoy his snack. I was sitting on a play structure about six feet away from the table, taking pictures.
The kids were all quietly enjoying their snacks when the silence was broken by a tiny voice. A little boy named Benny said, “apple.” Benny’s father replied, “that’s right, apple.” Benny was looking at the juice box, which had a picture of an apple on it. I thought, “good for you, Benny.” The boy was smaller than Stevie and looked like he might be a couple/three months younger as well. Being that Stevie basically only vocalizes “hi” and “bye bye,” I couldn’t help but think that it was pretty advanced for Benny to recognize and say “apple.” I was genuinely impressed with young Benny. Then it happened. Like wildfire it spread. Benny said “apple” again. Then another little kid said “apple. Then another and another and another, until almost all of the children at the table were saying “apple.” One of the little tykes even went so far as to say, “red apple.”
Suddenly, I had that bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I looked over at Stevie, who was showing little to no interest in the apple conversation. I caught eyes with Jani. I looked at her and she at me and our minds seemed to be connected, like those creepy blond kids in “Escape from Witch Mountain.” With a single glance I could tell that Jani and I were thinking the same thing; our son, who is without a doubt far ahead of other kids his age in most, if not all of the physical categories, is behind the curve when it comes to speech. I’ve suspected as much for a little while now, but I’ve told myself that all kids develop differently, at their own pace. Stupidly, I continually ask other parents with children Stevie’s age, how much their child is speaking. I don’t usually like the answer I get. But, today was different. They all said “apple,” every stinking one of them.
So, now comes the self-doubt… the what ifs… the blaming one’s self… the baseless wild speculations… the fretting… the sadness… the tension… the complete and utter feeling of helplessness.
My son is why I get out of bed in the morning. He really has given reason to my life. I’ll do anything, and I mean anything for him. Joe Rogan, of all people, summed it up best on a podcast I was listening to a while back. He said, and I paraphrase: I’ve got two bananas. One is perfect and the other is all black and shitty. I really want that perfect banana, but I look at my child and I’m totally going to eat that shitty banana.
So, tomorrow at 10:00 AM we’re taking Stevie to his doctor and we’re going to start the process of getting him tested for his slow speech development. I’m really hoping that he’s just being stubborn and simply doesn’t feel like talking yet. But, no matter what the outcome, I’m totally going to eat that shitty banana.