Moments, not milestones

I remember the first time Phineas stood on his own. It was in the middle of the floor, far away from the safety net of the couch or a nice, solid chair. After a bit of maneuvering that found him at time on hands and knees with his bottom thrust into the air, he stood. Fully upright, feet planted and head held high. He looked somewhat confused as to how it had all happened, but there he was. He was up.

 

He was 18 months old, still within the realm, the pediatrician assured me, of “normal development.” I had become not despondent, exactly, but anxious, as the months had clicked by. He had only just begun crawling when he joined our family at 14 months, and had shown no interest at all in abandoning that method of locomotion for the more efficient, more expected first-year milestone of walking. My other children had walked for the first time anywhere from ten to thirteen months. And yet Phin … Phin wasn’t even trying to find ways to pull himself upright. And then there was this– a victory. He stood. On his own! Without any supports! Surely, within a few days, those first wobbly steps would be taken, I could stop holding my breath, and everything would be fine.

Except, he didn’t. The days stretched into weeks, and while he stood once or twice more of his own volition, Phineas did not walk. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t check that off of his “been there, done that” list until he was nearly 22 months old.

By that point, I wasn’t just anxious, I was confused. Why? Why had he accomplished this amazing feat, and not taken it to the next level, as other children would? Why had he done this one, small thing … and stopped?

I’d be asking myself the same thing as other milestones approached and slipped away, unmet. Speech: why can he make some sounds, but not actually talk? Signing: why does he learn signs, only to forget them? Self-help: why can he only get food to his mouth with his hands?

It was a frustrating season of trying of my behalf– trying to spend as much time one-on-one as possible, trying to find therapists and doctors who could answer my concerns, trying to teach him, over and over, the basics that other littles ones his age discovered on his own.

On good days– days when it was just us, in our bubble– it was easy to forget how far behind he really was. Without the visual of a 2 year-old who could ask for a cup of water, or a 3 year-old who was self-sufficient in playing on his own, or a 4 year-old who could pedal a bike, it was simple enough to look at Phin and say, “This is how a 2/3/4 year-old is.” It was easy to forget that most 2 year-olds did not need to be carried and fed, and that most 3 year-olds enjoyed looking at the pages in books, not eating them. It was easy to forget that most 4 year-olds are little independent people, not taller, heavier infants. But of course, as much as we might like it to be, it’s just not so. John Mark raced, developmentally, up to Phin’s level and shot past. So did Birdie. And now, there is Simon, creeping steadily along, already his 7 year-old brother’s peer at 18 months.

I wish I could say that it was there, as I watched Phineas accomplish his very first go at standing, that I understood how to claim the victory in special needs parenting. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t until much later, probably as Phin floated between three and four. It saddens me now to realize it, but I see in hindsight that I was viewing the whole thing upside down. I had no way to know otherwise, naturally– my parenting experiences prior to Phin had trained me to only see things through the eyes of a mother watching over her neurotypical child. But still … in doing so, I missed so much.

See, here’s the thing. When you have a “normal,” “average,” “typically developing” child on your hands, every single milestone is a step forward. Seeing that, feeling that in our gut, we look on in anticipation. Standing is not just standing. It’s a precursor to walking. Babbling isn’t simply babbling. It’s getting ready to talk. Holding a fork is a lifetime of feeding oneself. Using a straw is controlled speech. Looking at pictures in books is reading. We see all of these things, and inwardly, we prime for the next leg of the journey. The box has been checked… bring on more boxes!

But special needs parenting looks different. A box checked may, it turns out, have to be marked off again. A skill may take longer to develop, or may lead nowhere at all. Seeing these hurdles for what they are– way stations— is difficult when you’ve been primed your whole life to look beyond what you see. But giving these victories back to our kids as moments, rather than looking for more, is the only way to celebrate the hard work and unfathomable courage that it takes for so many of them to get there in the first place.

So standing? Sometimes, it’s enough. That day, that moment … it’s enough. Celebrate it.

That unsolicited hug? It’s enough. It may lead to more tomorrow, or it may not. Rejoice anyway.

Pulling on his own shoes, even though they’re on the wrong feet? It’s enough. Congratulate him.

Looking on with a vision towards moments, not milestones, frees both us and our special children of expectations that rob us of our joy. It allows us, in those fleeting minutes of culmination, to be parents, not therapists or specialists. It gives us back the precious seconds to revel in the good, and to authentically embrace the gift that is right in front of us without chasing an elusive dream of more. It’s a slippery mindset to claim; always, fear wants to push it away and compare or critique. But cling tightly to those moments. Let the milestones go. And be blessed.

I link up posts with these wonderful hosts: Diamonds in the Rough, Life in a Breakdown, Sunday Best Showcase, Teach Beside Me, Finishing Strong, Mama Moment Monday, The Modest Mom, Mama Moments Mondays, Monday’s Musings,Making Your Home Sing Monday, Playdates at the Wellspring, A Pinch of Joy, Share Your Stuff Tuesday, Titus 2sday, Titus 2 Tuesday, Growing Homemakers, Babies & Beyond, Teaching What is Good, Missional Call, Essential Things, Create With Joy, Hope in Every Season, For the Kids Fridays,  Preschool Creations, Pin Me Party, Learn & Link, Frugal Homeschool Friday, SHINE, Geeky Educational Link-Up.