Mom on a Mission article April 2007

[Guest guest]

Beautifully written!!! I love it!

chrystal

************************************** See what's free at http://www.aol.com.

[Guest guest]

Just sharing my latest column ---

Michele W

Mom on a Mission: " Are You Talking to Me? "

" Mom! " " Mom? " " Ma! " My preschooler hollered from the backseat the entire

four-hour drive to Grandma's. When I answered, " What, Honey? " it turned out

he had nothing to say. I remember thinking, " Who taught this child to talk?

And who told him my name?? "

As a kid, I remember my mom's exasperated claims that she would change her

name and run away if we kept badgering her. Suddenly, I understood.

Fast forward five years to another trip to Grandma's. This time, we have

two children. My son is now 9 or 10; his sister is maybe 3 or 4. She

complains, " Andwooz bodderin me! " My husband and I exchange a silent cheer

for the accomplishment of this child who can argue with her brother. When

she was born, we didn't know if she would see, hear, walk, or speak. We

certainly didn't allow ourselves to wish for sibling rivalry in all its

splendor. Now she too talks so much that we sometimes wonder why we worried

and when she'll give us a moment of silence.

For both our kids, we rejoiced in their babbles, rhymes, and songs on the

way to real communication. With our son, it was the wonderment of watching

our first child's personality and speech unfold. For our daughter, it was

extra wonderment as some of our fears were put to rest.

We so longed for their first amazing words. Those first words eventually

led to the annoying, pestering monologues of childish needs, imaginings, and

demands. At times, our wonderment and joy became irritation and

exasperation. How quickly a gift can become a burden in our minds when we

are tired, stressed, or busy.

Fast forward again five years. Now our teen, at age 15, doesn't want to

talk to us. Again we long for words. Any words. Tell us your feelings,

your imaginings, your desires. We linger on his every syllable just as we

did on his every infant babble. Suddenly, what had been a burden again

becomes the greatest gift on our wish list.

Michele Westmaas is a mom, a wife, and an advocate for people with

disabilities.

Contact Michele by email at momonamission@....

[Guest guest]

Michele, what a great article, you are a terrific writer.

On a different note, but funny.

We went out to dinner the other night, 1 yr ago could not pick something

up or even be to interested in things to play with. Anyway, she picked up a

plate, looked at me, and dropped it on the floor, it broke, it shattered, she

laughed. I thought this was an accomplishment!

Keep up the great writing

Cathie, mom to

Mom on a Mission article April 2007

Just sharing my latest column ---

Michele W

Mom on a Mission: " Are You Talking to Me? "

" Mom! " " Mom? " " Ma! " My preschooler hollered from the backseat the entire

four-hour drive to Grandma's. When I answered, " What, Honey? " it turned out

he had nothing to say. I remember thinking, " Who taught this child to talk?

And who told him my name?? "

As a kid, I remember my mom's exasperated claims that she would change her

name and run away if we kept badgering her. Suddenly, I understood.

Fast forward five years to another trip to Grandma's. This time, we have

two children. My son is now 9 or 10; his sister is maybe 3 or 4. She

complains, " Andwooz bodderin me! " My husband and I exchange a silent cheer

for the accomplishment of this child who can argue with her brother. When

she was born, we didn't know if she would see, hear, walk, or speak. We

certainly didn't allow ourselves to wish for sibling rivalry in all its

splendor. Now she too talks so much that we sometimes wonder why we worried

and when she'll give us a moment of silence.

For both our kids, we rejoiced in their babbles, rhymes, and songs on the

way to real communication. With our son, it was the wonderment of watching

our first child's personality and speech unfold. For our daughter, it was

extra wonderment as some of our fears were put to rest.

We so longed for their first amazing words. Those first words eventually

led to the annoying, pestering monologues of childish needs, imaginings, and

demands. At times, our wonderment and joy became irritation and

exasperation. How quickly a gift can become a burden in our minds when we

are tired, stressed, or busy.

Fast forward again five years. Now our teen, at age 15, doesn't want to

talk to us. Again we long for words. Any words. Tell us your feelings,

your imaginings, your desires. We linger on his every syllable just as we

did on his every infant babble. Suddenly, what had been a burden again

becomes the greatest gift on our wish list.

Michele Westmaas is a mom, a wife, and an advocate for people with

disabilities.

Contact Michele by email at momonamission@....