Seizing What Could Be
Last spring, my son was at soccer practice on a Friday night after school. The coaches—of which I was one—divided the kids up into two lines to teach them how to pass the ball to each other and then run to a spot near the goal to shoot and score. The drill required the passer
This is a narrative role-play where I overlay my knowledge and experience of stuttering as remembered from my childhood with how I imagine my son is internalizing his perceptions. It is a perspective that is regularly top-of-mind as I go through the days with him and try to understand how he’s thinking about the way
“Some friends were making fun of me today, mama.” My son’s words caught my attention from across the room as I was making dinner. “What does ‘making fun of’ mean?” he asked. As I heard the question, I knew he was trying to tell us something that had happened at school that day, but he
Every parent has been there. You’re staring down your toddler who is about to do something they mostly know is wrong and you have seen them do it before, except this time you sense a change. Perhaps they are beginning to hear your pleas, “don’t do that” or “no, that is wrong.” For my wife
“Everyone, everyone, we got a job over here, 50 miles away. There’s a big hole that has to be filled. C’mon!” my son proclaimed to the entire gathering of parents and children at a 5-year-old friends’ birthday party. He was holding a pretend cellphone while straddling a big wheel atop the hill in their backyard.
Bath time is sacred. I cherish it every night because I get to spend an uninterrupted half an hour with my son as he poops, takes a bath, and brushes his teeth. Granted, some nights are harder than others, but most you can count on him being his unequivocal self. As we finished up bath
My internal alarm went off, an innate threat response learned in childhood. But for my son at his 5-year check-up, the request from the nurse to do his first vision and hearing tests didn’t set off the same visceral reaction. He stood 10 feet from the chart as I covered one of his eyes. In
I’m standing in the hallway listening to my son tell his stories before bed. He stutters through his words to find the right ones to explain something his imagination implores him to get out in that very instant. I say “goodnight” as I thought he was done, but as often is the case, he had
Perhaps this is biased because I stutter. But maybe not because I have experienced both sides, even if my onset was over thirty years ago, I know how the story goes. Being a kid who starts to stutter and being a parent of a kid who starts to stutter can be a challenging reality to
I was aware of the implications when I said it. I paused, and thought, “No way, is it?…Yes…it is.” Abuse. A word that I have not considered when it comes to childhood stuttering, but similar themes have been swirling in my head since walking alongside my son who stutters for the last two years. I
Every Waking Moment 