Prophecies, Progress, and One Identity-Stealing Transformer

I'd love to take you back to this moment, as I wrote this when Hayes was just ten days old:

A second child is a heart-breaking miracle, a treasure mindful of time.  He is precious because his parents have learned the meaning of cherish.

Okay, so maybe the postpartum hormones were a-swirlin' that day; I know it's a tad on the dramatic side. But I've been revisiting that thought over and over again.  It's almost like my own personal memory verse that became something of a self-fulfilling prophecy for Hayes and me.

I would lie if I told you it isn't hard when Koby and I attend Hayes's pediatric check-ups; we sit there and say "No" for about five minutes straight as the nurse keeps asking all the questions she's bound to ask about his development.  "Is he walking?" "Is he crawling?" "Is he pulling up on furniture?" "Is he babbling?" "Does he play hide and seek?" "Will he look for missing objects?" .... Please, please stop, we think.

I would lie if I told you it isn't hard when we see kids Hayes' age running and laughing and talking.  Because it is.  It's not a resentful, pitiful feeling.  But it's a hard one.

BUT.  Our little treasure mindful of time keeps reminding us that HE progresses on his own time, and it transforms the ordinarily mundane into the explosively joyful.

Yesterday, Hayes grabbed my face and looked into my eyes.  He just ran his slobbery, pudgy hand all over my face, looking at me and studying me in a completely new way.  

For any other mother, if her 16 month old did that, it would probably be answered with - Look little man, here are your 10,000 toys.  Could you please pinch and play with them instead of Mommy's cheeks and hair?  I know and say this because that is exactly what I would have felt when Knox was ALWAYS UP IN MY GRILL about a year or so ago.

But when Hayes did it - purposefully reached for and held my face - it made my heart race and flutter.  CHERISHED moment.

Here's a video of Hayes in his Little Room.  The Little Room is an Active Learning therapy tool we've been able to use thanks to our wonderful VI teacher.  He's laying on a Resonance Board; the Little Room is the torture-chamber apparatus that appears to be encasing him.  This was his first time in the Little Room, and not coincidentally, this is the most he'd ever interacted visually-physically with ANYTHING.  (I've since moved some of the objects around - I didn't like how close those spiky dish scrubbers were to his face/eyes, and I let some of the higher-hanging objects down a bit.  It is recommended to establish places for the objects -and then not move them- for memory encouragement.  And obviously, children should be monitored the entire time while they're in the LR.  Don't mind the other, non-monitored child destroying the living room in the background.)  For more information on Little Rooms, Resonance Boards, and Active Learning, check out these links:

This Link
or This Pinterest Board
or This Link


Heartfelt outpouring over - I have to go attend to Knox, who is refusing to believe me that the toy he is holding is. in. fact. a Transformer, and not a Yellow Batman.  

** Update: I later apologized and said, "Okay, you're right.  It is Batman.  How silly of me."  To which Knox replied, "Good job, Mommy."  These guys teach me lessons all the time.**