He called me "Momma" !!!!!!!!

Prior to his regression, Zachary did say Momma and Dadda. He pointed, said Buddy, "Thank you" , "Please" and "Welcome" as well as some other words. I recently spoke to a therapist about a child they knew who is 8. Although he is 8, and can identify his mother as Mom, he doesn't "call" her. On some days, when Sophia cannot seem to say anything else, this almost sounds like a blessing. But, of course, it isn't. I want my son to be able to get my attention, especially if he is in trouble or hurting.

Prior to picking up Zach from school today, I was a little sad. My life is a dash mundane, and not particularly exciting to the average person. Sophia just received a project at school for the parents to take a picture of themselves at work and write a description of their jobs. I deflected this off to "Daddy will handle this one." Life is getting less chaotic lately, and I have been so happy for the opportunity to begin to clean and organize the house, do some advocacy work, cook a little more, and most importantly spend time with my kids, doing therapy or work, and just playing! Life is not under my control, but it feels somewhat more peaceful than before.

However, a recent trip back to my previous employer gave me a perspective of how others view my current life: uninteresting and unimportant. I had a lot of people ask me what I was up to - when I gave some details, particularly that the kids are both in school, they would comment about me going back to work with my free time. *sigh* I would like to think I wasn't impacted by these naive attitudes, but I was. I have been feeling like I should do more. The problem is, I am really running at 90% capacity here, and that extra 10% reserve is commonly used with all the unexpected things in life. I do not nap during the day, no bon-bons and soap operas, and at night, I collapse into bed if I even make it there, I usually fall asleep on the couch after reading stories to the kids. Things are sort of balanced - a job prospect would likely throw everything totally out of whack. But what did I have to show for my efforts at home?

A little more calmness is pretty notable to me. And now that we are getting to witness some progression with Zachary, that helps give us some tangible markers that the sacrifices we are making have a worthwhile purpose. Zach's words are indeed the most spectacular sound I have heard, with only Sophias singing Christmas songs while playing by herself in her bedroom coming close.

Sophia spilled juice on herself in the car on the way over to get Zach, and proceeded to blame me for not putting a valve in her sippy cup. Tears were flowing. I was practicing the deep breathing technique from Lamaze to keep the nerves in check (Finally, something it is really good for - temper tantrums when on long rides in vehicles.) She calmed quickly after some words of wisdom from me (for once) and I felt like a superhero. We sang a little song as we entered Zach's school. Just another normal day in the life of me. But indeed it wasn't. As we turned the corner, I saw Zach's OT carrying Zach back to his classroom. He made eye contact with me. Terry kept on walking. Then she stopped and I noticed he looked sad. Terry turned abruptly to see me and I heard her exclaim: "Yes - there is Momma!" Apparently, I couldn't hear Zach calling for me - and Terry was unaware, at first, that I was there when he first called for me. I ran up to Zach picked him up and did an all out happy dance, with full-fledged jumping up and down, creating quite the scene at the school. I managed to keep the tears at bay, but my joy could not be fully contained. I was surrounded by 3 of Zach's therapists and there were plenty of smiles to go around.

Some people will never get why I left my career to stay home, and I know that. No amount of explanation will ever get it through their heads. Zach called me Momma, without prompting, spontaneously, independently, appropriately! Zach called me Momma today, and that is why I stay home.