It's so surprising to me how painful it's been to be in a school full of kids, some of who are Anthony's age. Some of them are named Anthony! I was talking to one of my classes about the year they were born and some of them said 2005, some 2006, and I thought really? They seem so ... not grown up, but advanced, ahead of Anthony. Because Anthony is our only boy, I guess there are just things we are not going to experience. The boys in fourth grade seem so different than the girls. In some ways, they are the same but Anthony has never really had that boyishness that I see in other boys his age, not for a long time anyway.
I have been volunteering for recess at the girls' school and the other day I was watching the fourth grade boys play football. You have to watch them closely or they might fight, it's so physical. So I was over there a lot and there was one kid named Anthony and apparently he always had the damned ball because everyone kept yelling Anthony! Anthony, right here! Anthony! Way to go, Anthony! My eyes filled with tears and I thought, great they are going to kick me out for being the crying mom volunteer, but it was very moving to me.
Things have been hard lately, largely because a) the damned new insurance company is denying us and we had to pay a doctor (like a PhD doctor) $250 smackeroos to write a report about Anthony, to prove that it's medically necessary that he get ABA treatment. For you English students out there, I think this might be a good example of irony - Anthony has a PRESCRIPTION for 40 hours of ABA therapy a week from a MEDICAL DOCTOR but we have to get a REPORT from a PhD to say that he needs it. Whatever.
Also, he is being kind of pushy lately and he is spitting water out of his mouth, which - there is no way to shine that up, is there? It sucks and he does it to everyone, us, Maria (Ankony!, she yells!), he did it to Laura last week when she was babysitting (probably for the last time, ha ha boo hoo). It's awful and so VIVID, you know.
I mean, it's just been hard lately. We are so worried all the time, about money and about the future and getting water SPAT in your ding dang EYE, it's just exhausting. Even though most of the time I feel okay, I know we are going to be okay, I loved the Pope's visit and to see him with all those disabled children made me be reminded of the fact that Anthony is whole in God's eyes but even still, knowing all that, it kills me that he will never run on that parking lot, never play kickball with those other kids.
Anyway. I don't know how to wrap it up, ever, when I go on and on. Here's to hoping either things get better or I toughen up!