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Mothering Moments

There are beautiful moments in motherhood. Usually they're hidden under a lot of dirt and grime, but they are there.

It's not unlike a tarnished silver mirror. In some places the silver shines through, radiant and easy to admire. In other places it takes some real elbow grease (and a little time) to really see the beauty that lies beneath.

I have a son who has always been fairly difficult. I like to joke that he 'came out screaming and hasn't stopped.' As an infant he was colicky.

Then he was allergic to milk.

Then he wouldn't eat anything.
Then he wouldn't talk!

Nothing with him has come easily.

When he was two we began the process of getting him evaluated for learning disabilities. Terms like 'Autistic like tendencies' and 'attention deficit disorder,' accompanied phrases like 'budgeting issues.' I entered a world of OT's (occupational therapists) and ST's (speech therapists) and PT's (physical therapists. I attended IEP's (individual education plan) and became acquainted with jargon I never thought I'd need in life.

I dealt with hour long temper-tantrums over which cup his juice was in.

Screaming sessions because he didn't want to nap.

I lived through weekly wrestling matches in the halls of church.

I survived day after day after day. One single moment at a time.

There was alot of tarnish covering my mommy moments with him.

When my son was around 3 1/2 he uttered "I wuf you mum," for the first time. I was so happy and surprised that I dropped to my knees right there on the side walk and cried into his small shoulder.

After that more and more glimpses of silver began to shine through. He went to a special pre-school where his speech (if not his mood) improved monumentally.

Taking it one day at a time became taking it one week at a time and then one month.

Now my son is seven.  He still struggles, at school his bad days come as frequently as his good days. Sometimes I get calls from teachers about his attitude. When he's asked to do chores there's a 50/50 chance he'll just scream and yell and run into his room, slamming the door along the way.
This spring he finally learned how to ride a bike.

He loves it and begs me to ride whenever possible. Since the exercise seems to help his mood I am more than willing to oblige.

Besides when I ride along side him I see that silver again. I get to watch as his little glasses slide down his nose and his brow knit in concentration. I get to smile as he pumps the pedals that sit just in front of his mangled and twisted training wheels (that we haven't taken off).

We've never recieved a diagnosis for our son. I doubt we ever will, but that is okay for now because with a little scrubbing and a lot of work we've managed to find our son shining underneath. He glistens in the sunlight.

And really, what parent could ask for more?

Cannwin spends her time searching for her inner Shakespeare in the hopes that one day she will be able to dethrone the king and take her place as the greatest writer of all time. She currently resides in South Dakota with her husband and four children. You can explore more of her world at The Great and Random Ramblings of Cannwin and The Literary Soundtrack.

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