Joanna Shares Some Feelings, Part 2

(This is the same opening phrase I used in the original “Joanna Shares,” November 15, 2010)

There is a lot more to this than I feel comfortable sharing at the moment, but:

(See, I don’t say everything on this blog that I am thinking):

Last week I took David to our local library, in the middle of the day, with the intention of playing for awhile and then doing some errands. We love our library – we visit almost every Saturday morning to check out books and a movie, they have a great children’s section, and the librarians all know both boys. I can’t think of any other negative experiences we’ve had (except when Simon pooped in his pants, when potty training was still in-progress) (or the other time he pooped in his pants when blah blah blah), but this was pretty bad – for the record, I’m pretty sure it’s the only time I’ve left a library in tears.


I will do my best to summarize, two main issues: (1) We went planning to play for a little while, and that was still my plan even when I found out someone was bringing in a dog to (do something, I’m not even sure, I guess it is a nice dog and the kids are supposed to read to it, or something?). I am not a dog person, but I think I felt obligated because otherwise there would only be one or two other kids there, and I was sure someone would stop me if we tried to leave, and talk me into staying anyway. Next time I will trust my instincts. I’m not sure what the vetting process is for these animals, and I do wish David hadn’t pulled at the dog’s ears/fur/feet/tail so much, but really, if you are bringing a dog into the children’s section of the library at 11:00 a.m. on a weekday when school is in session, you should expect some degree of toddler and preschool fur-pulling. Right? And the dog was mostly laid-back (a black Lab, which is my favorite) but one time she whipped her head around at David really suddenly and I was worried she was going to snap at him. I would characterize the whole interaction as frustrating and unproductive. We finally got up and left, without saying goodbye or anything, I was just so irritated.

(2) So the dog thing was a complete bust, but I’ll admit I was not in the greatest state of mind when she arrived, anyway, and this is the part I don’t quite feel comfortable sharing all of just yet: When I arrived there was one other mom/boy combo already there, someone I know slightly from church, who I’m pretty sure knows about David’s Down syndrome and various medical situations. We chit-chatted very briefly and then they had to leave. Then another mom/boy pair came in, and this was the frustration: David had been playing at the train table with the other boy, and then he dropped to sitting and began scooting over to this other corner, where there’s a gigantic pile of stuffed animals. It’s quite a hike for a little person, and I made a gentle-teasing-slightly sarcastic but meant to be encouraging statement I’ve made before at home: “You know, David, some people walk to things.” The other mom asked how old he was, I said two, she asked when he turned two, I said the end of March and she seemed to (I don’t know what I’m trying to say here, but that didn’t seem to be a good enough explanation about why he’s not walking). So I said, he has Down syndrome so he has a lot of delays, but she was (coincidentally) walking away from me and I don’t think she heard me. She may have gathered there is something, ah, ‘atypical’ about David (‘cause there’s nothing ‘wrong’ with him), by listening to and observing us the rest of the time we were there (I’ve said before, sometimes people know David has Down syndrome and sometimes they don’t; sometimes he looks more as if he does and sometimes it’s less apparent).

And I totally, completely, 100% realize and believe that it does not matter one tiny bit what this complete stranger does or does not know about my son and his development. I think we’ve done a pretty good job, for the most part, of not succumbing to comparing David to other kids his age, and we have been successful at focusing on who he is and what he does, rather then who he’s not and what he can’t do (yet). We are thrilled with every bit of progress he makes, and when we think about the tiny sick baby we started out with, we are so thankful for everything about him. I’m not sure what it was about this particular incident that bothered me so much (this was all pre-dog), because there’ve been multiple other instances of meeting kids younger than or the same age as David who are way ahead of him developmentally, and usually it bothers me for about ½ second and then I move on. The other kid, who was also two, was about twice David’s size and was walking all over the place. I think I was experiencing a general frustration, not with David but with God/the world/the universe, that there is this thing called Down syndrome that affects little kids in so many ways.

Part of it was that frustration or sadness or whatever it was, and part of it was a siege mentality, one that I discussed in the other “Joanna Shares,” the distinct feeling that I do not belong around other parents anymore. After the dog incident, after we’d left and I’d buckled David into his carseat and given him a kiss, the exact thought was: I do not want to be around parents of normal/regular kids anymore. I just want to be with “special” kids and their parents, and to have a @!%$#&* dog that is suited to their needs and won’t mind getting her ears pulled on. You know? A battening down of the hatches, of sorts – this is my kid, you don’t understand, so get away from me.

Oh, and both boys we ran into had the same name (as each other), which I think contributed to the sense of us-vs.-them.

I did cry some, in the parking lot of the library and a little more on the way home. I’m feeling much better about it today (and I was so excited that David is taking some of those ‘lunging steps’ on his own today that I had to send Matt a text about it). And while writing this, I’m reminded that 2 days before this, we went to a Memorial Day cookout with a bunch of families-with-young-kids from church, and I was actually able to fill my plate and eat what was on it, because several other moms were lined up to hold Mr. David, because he’s so cute and snuggly.

And this was David at the library, pre-dog, so obviously this other mom and her kid were of exactly zero concern to him. So this is what I’ll try to focus on next time: