maybe he's normal after all

normal. the word gets tossed around a lot in the parenting world. Retarded. That one does too. When we were kids, we called the dog retarded. I called my brother retarded. It is not until you have someone who, well, has mental retardation that you really think twice about the word and you don't want it used negatively. (Esp. against my kid!) I kind-of choke on the word now. It is not as funny. (except calling my brother retarded, that will always be funny)
We all want our kids to be normal. To go to school. To have friends. To enjoy life. We want them to be, well, normal.
One of my biggest Andrew fears was this expected lack of normal. He has Down Syndrome, for goodness sack, how normal could our lives ever be? Well, come to find out, rather boring and normal. I hate to burst your bubble that you have built for us - you know the one - the "oh, they must be special to have a special needs child" one.
My case for normal is proven at the infamous Chuck E. Cheese today. Looking to win mommy brownie points and also looking to kill time on the last holiday day before school starts tomorrow (thank you, Lord), I announce to the kiddos that I am taking them to the Cheese. They are thrilled. Andrew is thrilled. The twins are thrilled. I am, well, ok, I am thrilled too. I am getting to be cool mom for once.
The sad part of this experience is that Andrew has discovered that all those machines do magical things if you ACTUALLY PUT A COIN IN THEM. We went for a good 3 years of being able to just sit in the race car game in total enjoyment of it! But, sigh, no, he had his own token cup. He wandered off on his own. He burned through all his money. He even told a worker, "I LOST" when he could not find me (i.e. to get more coins). He sat and ate pizza. He danced with Chuckie. He played in the playground area. He complained when the money ran dry. He traded his tickets for crap toys. It was all beautifully beautifully normal.

(He did get extra tickets from a worker. They threw some to the kids who danced with Chuckie. All the other little urchins were scrapping like the things were gold. Andrew very politely picked up the ones in front of him. The worker found this quite endearing and gave him a handful when the other kids walked away. I am sure there is a lesson there, somewhere.) I am only sorry I did not take pictures. I guess I lose the mommy points for that.