Addison will turn three in a few weeks, and I think I’ve gotten the hang of it. When the midwife and pediatrician told me Addison had trisomy 21, I heard the words and fell back into the sedatives from the cescarian. From that moment on, I’ve been trying to figure out: How to get him to sit up; chew; breath; sleep; walk; and talk. At times, my brain hurts.

Every time I unearth a bit of new information, what I find out is that most of the time - I already knew it. I was watching a video documentary on developing language skills, and what I saw made common sense. I know the best way to teach language to kids is through play. My daughter taught me that. In fact I taught myself that when I was a kid! So much of this I knew when I was a kid, but my big-ol’-adult-brain gets IT all muddled up and begins to worry.

Yesterday, I was working on my book, and from my office I could hear Addison chatting away as the nanny sat near by. I crept down the stairs to watch. He placed all the animals in a row and loudly talked to them, to the nanny, and whoever else would listen about some sort of story he was creating. Though none of his words made “literal” sense and he was just making sounds, it wasn’t hard to hear what he was saying.

I keep my arms outstretched to both sides and try to maintain a balance between therapy and letting Addison just be a kid. He toddles at restaurants, loves to take baths, plays at school, and most of the time figures IT out all by himself. And all I have to do is listen.