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My Mentor

 My spiritual guide, my child's physical therapist -- she has left the building.


I know because I just paid for the final session; when your child turns three, he is moved out of Early Intervention. Any intervention down the road will no longer count as "early."

I often think of my spiritual guide (and people say your therapist is most effective for you *after* your therapist has died).

When I change a diaper on my kid, I insist that he stand up; I will no longer attempt to pin him to a table and hold his limbs so he doesn't throw himself to his death. My guide said, "As soon as he stands, you're done with the changing table. No more."

Without any apparent segue, my guide said, "Pay attention to your marriage. Your children will leave. If your only topic of adult chit-chat is Joshie's new monkey drawing.....then you're in trouble."

My guide said, "Sensory issues? Who doesn't have sensory issues? Are you telling me YOU like to be in a crowded, noisy room? Relax. Life is tricky. Children are often tougher than you think."

I see her reclining, now, and smoking a cigarette -- though she actually didn't behave this way. In my mind's eye, she is like Dorothy Parker, whipping out her phone and asking, "What fresh hell is this?" She takes a deep breath. She keeps on ploughing through her day.
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