First years

We are coming up on Anju’s second birthday. 

Two years ago, Nik had just been dignosed with PDD-NOS.  He was accepted into a early intervention therapy program 3 mornings a week, parent participation required.  I was pregnant with Anjali when we met with the therapists from the program and I could see the pitying looks on their faces when they looked at me. 

Anjali was born on July 24.  I had 3 weeks, and then Nik’s therapies started on Aug 16.  Nik had to be there at 8:30 am, and it lasted until 10:30 am.  Two of the longest hours in my day, back then. 

I call Anju my waiting room baby.  Either that, or my car seat baby.  We seem to have spent the first two years of her life driving to therapies, waiting, then driving to another therapy.  And she has handled it so well, mostly because she doesn’t know any different.  This is her life.

I can’t believe I am saying this, but I look forward to when Nik starts his preschool in a few weeks, going five days a week from 9 to 3.  I know I should be regretting the passing of time, and his growing up and growing away, but right now, I can only feel relief. 

I am looking forward to days with Anjali, with several hours at a time, uninterrupted by car rides and waiting sessions.  I look forward to playing with her, painting and drawing, listening to her little baby talk, having her help me cook (as she already does!), and just enjoying her.

As I write this, she is downstairs, digging through my purse, bringing me random stuff to explain to her (right now, Purell, and she had to try it.)

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