Skip to main content

My Friend

 There is a program offering respite care; if your baby has behavioral challenges, a helper will come to your house and manage bedtime, and you can sit silently and stare at a wall for one or two hours.


I have a friend whose child is on an idiosyncratic path. I love this friend. She has a religious background, but she is salty. "When they try to deny your respite care, you need to use the word crisis. Call them every day and say you are on the verge of a crisis. Say, I'm just hoping to avert a crisis here...."

We are sitting at an outdoor pizza party for four-year-olds....Olivia Rodrigo spills out from the speakers: I'm so blue, know we're through....BUT I STILL FUCKING LOVE YOU, BABE!!!!

"People are so lost," says my friend. "I'm walking with my son, and this bitch sees his leg brace, and she mumbles, audibly, That just breaks my heart....And I say: Would you care to elaborate? My child has a huge smile on his face. Can you tell me about your broken heart?"

My friend says, "Everyone has a particular road to walk down, and that's fine. You have a nice road you're on. Try to notice that."

I think of Lorrie Moore; when her child had some medical issues, she became a hurricane. Sitting through a consultation, she grew impatient with the evasiveness. "You wonder why the doctors missed the tumor?" she said. "Maybe they missed it because.....they are not very smart?"

Moore wrote with empathy and grace--and her record of early motherhood has been a crutch I've leaned on (for over twenty years).

Sometimes, it's just a relief to whine in good company.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...
2 comments
Read more

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...
Post a Comment
Read more