The Decline of the Easy Child

You know you’re really a special needs parent when the child psychologist hands you not one, but two sets of questionnaires for you to fill out.

One for each child.

Ari has always been my easy child. Anyone reading this blog certainly knows that, just by comparing the number of entries about Max to those of his sister. He simply produces far more material.

But I have been having concerns about Ari for some time now. Even though her apraxia has been considered resolved, she’s been continuing speech therapy to help with other issues—working memory, sequencing, word retrieval, processing. As fabulous as her speech therapist is, Ari continues to struggle with these areas.

She’s also been showing signs of attentional problems: she’s easily distracted, doesn’t remember what I ask of her, and has required no less than three trips to the emergency room in the past year. Her injuries—goose egg from falling on sidewalk, stitches from hitting head on playground structure, bruised finger (thankfully not broken) from closing our back door on it—are not the result of clumsiness, but rather, her lack of awareness of her immediate surroundings.

Her issues are subtle. Everyone who knows Ari, including teachers and parents from school, just love her personality. My concern, however, is that as she gets older, her positive qualities will be perceived differently. And soon my outspoken, confident, social, energetic child will be described as intrusive, bossy, overly talkative, and exhausting.

Although Max is who brought us to Dr. I. in the first place—some three years ago—it is now Ari who gets discussed in his office. And as he hands me the parent history forms to fill out, it’s hard not to think, “Here we go again.” It’s hard not to mourn—just the littlest bit—the loss of the easy path you had hoped at least one of your kids would travel.