Sunday, July 16, 2006

tommy can you hear me?

my step-mom says, "that's a horrible thing to say," but she doesn't live with him and doesn't need the defense of gallows humor. we've decided to rename our oldest son tommy.

watching him is frustrating at times. to say "he's off in his own little world" is an understatement. at four, he ought to know things like how to tell us his name, and when he needs to go to the bathroom, even if he doesn't always make it. he ought to be able to tell us that he wants something to drink, or that he's hungry. he ought to be interested in interacting with the other kids. he ought to, you know, talk.

he doesn't. and it's frustrating to watch. he sometimes seems like he knows when he needs to go to the bathroom, like, for example, when he urgently wants to go outside so he can drop his pants and take a dump on the patio.

and he doesn't talk. he'll respond to prompts sometimes, and he can identify some colors, but most of the time he'll just ignore us and go on either watching tv or playing with his crayons and fuzz.

i talked a little about his fuzz habit. he does the same thing with crayons too: he will run the fuzz or crayons through his fingers, to the exclusion of all else, for hours at a time. he ignores us. he ignores the twins. he ignores his need to pee and so he wets himself and the floor without a second thought. like all children he hates to go to bed, so he takes his fuzz with him.

he doesn't actually do anything with the fuzz. he doesn't color with the crayons. he just picks them up and lets them slip through his fingers, like you might with sand on the beach once or twice.

the school people tell us that he's making progress (except of course he's not because it's summer and they wouldn't let him into the summer program). the doctor tells us to take him to the place with the year wait to even get an appointment six months later.

so how can we not be frustrated? especially with people like my mother, who is rapidly descending into the realms of respect equal to my father, calling my children feral.

it is true that we don't take them out much. it is also true that taking out three children four and younger, none of whom are potty trained, and none of whom really have this sharing thing down yet, is, shall we say, a major pain in the ass. they actually do eat at the table and use utensils (usually), and for the most part they are obedient. but they are also toddlers, and there are three of them.

so if you want to take them out, come and get 'em. we'll even let you take the minivan.

1 comment:

  1. Oh. Man.

    Heavy stuff, Rainbow. How can you not be frustrated, indeed.

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