There we are

Let it never be said that Adam is not a smart boy. He may have earned himself the nickname "Bogey-nose" from the kids who ride on his daily school taxi, quite legitimately too, but he is still a smart boy. He knows what he wants and can now ask for it. And he also knows what he doesn't want, and every last ounce of muscle in his little body, approximately 45 pounds of it, will protest to the bitter end. I guarantee you if Adam is not inclined to do something, he ain't gonna do it.

That includes visits to the doctor, though this is not a new thing. Today was eyes, and I knew right away that he wasn't going to "look at the pretty ducky" for all the persuasion in the world. Luckily we had a nice practitioner who, rather than get annoyed, helped me think through how we might get a good result with Adam for next time. Secretly, I'm not sure there will be a next time.

After all is said and done and we're home watching Cars (again), I still find myself in the position that I hate: figuring out what is worth doing and what is not when it comes to Adam.

I know, for instance, that trying to persuade him to watch one of Caleb's movies with him is not worth doing. He won't watch anything but Cars and that's that. Or, in the words of a British saying, there we are. That's a great phrase that roughly combines "there you have it" with "that's the way the cookie crumbles" and "who cares anyway?" thrown in for good measure. It's the perfect phrase for Adam...you know that lovely chocolate cake you made for Adam's birthday? Well, he's not going to eat it, so there we are. Or, hey, there's a great game of rounders in the park, does Adam want to play? No, he doesn't, and there we are. Or maybe, is Adam wearing his glasses these days? No, he's not. There we are.

Where we are is this little piece of no man's land where I frequently have to decide what Adam is going to do, what he's going to have to do, and what I'm willing to do for the sake of what he needs. It's the place where I long for the ability to reason with him, to explain that if he just looks at the duck once we don't have to come back. Where if he doesn't look, I then have to decide if he gets anaesthetised so that the doctors can have their look. What happens if we do that? What happens if we don't? Do they really need to look? Should I just lie back and quit fighting every doctor who needs a look at Adam? Because if that's the case then I also need to know if we should be paying rent to the hospital, since we'll be there that much.

Sigh. Where did I put that manual for raising Adam again? I'm always losing that thing...

Anyway, there we are. Another day, another dilemma. It's good to be alive.