Re-imagining what's possible

I called my mom this morning and handed the phone to my older boy, who had an apology to make.

I held the phone for him because I thought it would be a brief exchange. After all, Nic's not all that conversational, at least on the phone.

That's what I thought, anyway. Two minutes later, I'm still standing there holding the phone to his ear. Hubby passes by, shakes his head, puts Nic's hand to the phone, takes mine away, and Nic chatted on with Grandmom for another 3 minutes.

I lost count of how many volleys after 10. The kid's conversational.

Last night, we stopped off at Dave & Buster's to celebrate the end of the week. What I thought would be a 10-minute stop stretched into an hour; Nic met a boy named Kevin, and the two of them hung out together, I guess while his folks were upstairs eating. Foolishly, I didn't get his info, and he didn't get ours. But still, Nic and Kevin more than interacted--they had a great time. Without anyone facilitating it.

At our team meeting last week, Nic got high marks for flexibility. It only took 3 months, but he's settled in.

Are we perfect? Hell, no. We have no shortage of moments I'd rather forget. By the same token, I am awed and amazed that bit by bit, he really is beginning to look like everyone else.