Late Bloomer

For two years, it was only about me. And although I grew out of the colic, just as the doctor said I would, I was still an anomaly that my parents were trying to figure out.

By the age of two, I had none of the following:

-recognizable speech patterns
-baby teeth (yes, I mean NO TEETH)
-ability to walk unassisted

This infuriated my father whose weekly visits caused much eye-rolling and despair for my pediatrician and his staff. I was supposed to be a boy. When that didn't pan out, I was supposed to be his prodigy. I know my mother was equally concerned but she never showed it. She was patient and knew that I would take my time to blossom.

My father despaired and he took his anger out on the doctor.

"She gums everything because she has no teeth! I have no clue what she is talking about and would rather sign like the deaf woman on Sesame Street. She continues to crawl even though I have caught her walking when she needs to. Are you sure she doesn't have any mental issues?" My fathers eyes were wide and the vein his forehead was bulging.

The exasperated doctor looked at my mother who in turn looked at her own feet. She never interrupted my father or shared her own opinions except when asked to.

"I want to assure you, there is nothing wrong with your daughter. You must understand that every child develops in their own time. Each time you come to me, you ask the same questions and I keep assuring you that she is normal. You just need to let her grow into her body. She is healthy and eating with no visible medical issues. She is adjusting for all the lateness and you will need to adjust as well."

Perhaps my father wanted the doctor to take out his pad and prescribe a magic pill or refer us to a specialist but he did no such thing. He stood his ground and asked for my parent's patience.

It did not satisfy my father. He felt enough was not being done to challenge my intelligence (or lack thereof, according to him). My mother tried reading to me, singing, colouring and practicing my handwriting or taking me out and meeting others within our building; however the only pastime I enjoyed was watching television.

While my mother cleaned and cooked, I would sit, hours on end, on many occasions alone in front of our black and white television set with the antenna ears that were constantly being adjusted by my father when he came home after work to watch his news. I have a distant memory of watching the news with him, the volume at its peak so that he would not miss a word from the commentator. If I cried, he would motion my mother to remove me from the room which only made me cry harder. The television was my toy and something I could not share, even with him.

I think I did my parents a favour. I looked at their experience with me as "breaking new ground" thereby making it easier for them to handle another child in the event my mother was to have more children.

The Ice Breaker. No longer would they need to tread carefully because they knew what to expect with me. And I certainly challenged them in every aspect now that was a force to be reckoned with.

What they would not know realize were the dynamics of having another child with me at the helm....