It's been a while. I can't tell you how many times I've thought of something to write about in my Blog and have either not got round to doing it or have started a post and not finished. However I am now living out of my beloved London and have time in the day to write as the boys are at school, so I am really going to try and made this a regular thing. If it never gets read then that's fine, but I do think I need to try and have some sort of outlet for my thoughts and feelings and this seems a good place.
The boys started their new school last Friday. As watched them walk off in a line to their new classroom with their new classmates I had a few tears, as did John. I marvelled at their braveness. They just went. Having to spend a day with 30 total strangers, and whilst I know they won't be strangers for long, I just thought what good boys they are. I know lots of children have this lack of fear and even though Ben (Sam literally went off without saying goodbye, he was that keen) had a few tears on the Monday, he did it. He went, and by home time he had acquired a girlfriend.
I spoke briefly with Ben's teacher this morning, who told me how bright Ben was and that he's had to order new reading books for him as he can already read the top level. I'm not saying this to boast or gloat about him, but Ben's achievements always tug at my heart. Ben was the little baby who was thought to be Down Syndrome. It took a year of check ups and assessments to rule out that he wasn't. Both boys according to scans and pre-natal checks had soft markers for DS and when Ben was born, he still had them. The main one being his hand. On your palm you have two lines/creases close to the top. Down syndrome children usually have one straight line. A Junior doctor also stated that Ben looked a bit floppy. A consultant was paged and said he didn't think Ben had DS, but we would need to keep an eye on him. And that we did. I don't think Ben looked DS and after extensive Internet research I really couldn't see that he was, but I looked at him everyday and monitored his development.
So as I see him developing into this little boy who loves to read, I'm reminded of that difficult year and proud of my son.
By the way, the hand line marker is hereditary in some families. One night whilst rubbing cream into her hands my Mum discovered she had the 'one line', as do other people on her side.
