Wednesday, April 7, 2010


The word is full of labels.
Christian. Jew. Witch.
Man. Woman.
Mom. Dad.
We all wear dozens of different labels each day.
My oldest son just gained a new label I never wished him to have.
Developmentally delayed.
The school just called to tell us last week, that per testing, bug is behaviorally delayed.
Okay, so the kid has a few attitude and control issues. So do I. but I'm not sporting s nifty new label.
Surprisingly, I'm not mad about the new label. I'm a bit jazzed. Because it puts a word to what we've been battling for 5 1/2 years.
And that word is going to get Bug the help he needs in school.
That word gives me a phrase to advocate for, a battle to fight, and everyone knows how I love a good fight.
That word gives me a goal to work towards. The day when he will retest and that label will be replaced by . . . nothing.
I normally loathe labels. Aside from mom, and maybe wife (on good days) I don't adhere to any labels about myself.
But this label I will embrace as firmly as I would a lover.
And when it is time, I, and my son, will kick it to the curb.

1 comment:

Shelly said...

Good post! Sometimes we need labels in order to get the help we need. It's not always a bad thing. Sometimes labels are the beginning of fixing what needs fixed. Bug's going to be just fine and he will be label free one of these days.