for the Big Guy.
**I wrote this post last night, but couldn't get it to publish for some reason...
Today was Dylan's first day attending a child-only (aka: no mama) playgroup at his Early Intervention Center. A couple of months ago, his educator encouraged me to sign him up for a group with the hope of preparing him for preschool this summer. I dragged my feet for a few weeks and then finally signed him up and received a call that he would be starting on the 31st.
His class meets one morning a week for 2 1/5 hours. It is an integrated class - some kids are from the EI Program, some are not, and they are all around age two.
We got ready this morning - backpack and all.
When I dropped Dylan off in his classroom and began to say goodbye, I lingered probably longer than I needed to. I crouched down and said, "Bye Dyl". I think he thought that he and I were both leaving together because he looked up at his teacher and said, "Bye!".
When I first brought him into the room, his teacher mentioned to me that she is currently in graduate school studying American Sign Language, so she is very familiar with sign. It really helped knowing that because even though Dylan has about 20 words now, he does still communicate primarily through sign.
So, after I closed the door to his classroom behind me, couldn't help but peek through the window, just for a second. Dylan was fine. I took a deep breath and left.
When Cassidy and I went to pick him up, the kids were out on the playground. Dylan did not see us and we watched the class for a little while. I was so happy to see that he was happy! He was in school, all by himself, and he was doing well! My Little One, not so little anymore.
I felt rediculously proud.
But yet, in the very next moment I also felt a quick, unexpected pang of hurt as I watched all of his classmates running around the playground and climbing on small structures. All while Dylan sat. Wanting. Watching. Occasionally he would scoot to catch up, but...
My heart ached a little bit.
It ached not for me but for him. I want everything for him. Everything. Including feeling like a part of his class, like his peers. That includes walking.
I don't want his heart to hurt. And as I watched him, I wondered how he felt as he watched the other kids.
As we headed to the car, I overheard the receptionist ask a man to please move his car as he had parked it in the fire lane. He was obviously not happy about it as he walked outside and, as his young son grasped his daddy's hand, yelled to the person inside the car, "Hey! You need to move our car! These f#!^ing re*@%ds have no parking spaces here!".
We went home and later sat on the couch together awaiting a snow storm. With Dylan and Cassidy on each side of me, we snuggled under our fuzzy blanket and read books together.
My conflicted emotions from the morning began to melt into just one, and life began to feel right again.
I am learning. The bumps along the way are just that - bumps. They are fleeting. At the time they hurt like heck, but you do the best that you can at the time and realize that they do pass.
This road, while it is filled with twists and turns and even the occasional bump, it's life.
It's our journey and I go to bed every night thanking my lucky stars that I am on it...