My Beau Tanner

[Palaver]

Here is the piece you were asking about, my girl and by the way, have
I told you how proud of you I am for always being such a good sister
to your brothers? You always were my little "mother hen" and I love
you more than words can say. They simply have no meaning.

Written in 2007 on my son, Beau Tanner's graduation, which fell on
Mother's Day.

He was my happiest baby with a smile that lit up the room and my
heart. He was ahead of all the other babies in the nursery at church
when it came to pulling himself up to things and crawling but beyond
saying, "Dad" and "Mom" or putting words together, Beau seemed to lag.

At first I wasn't real concerned. I figured with a mom like his, who
had the gift of gab, he'd sooner or later pick it up but by his second
and third birthdays, he still wasn't putting sentences together much
less words, and I began to worry. So, going against everything I
always believed about sending my children off to pre school, I started
checking them out.

It's always been my conviction that we're losing something by sending
our children off so young. I felt it was my God given responsibility
to nurture my own children and not send them packing at such a tender
age but I was at a loss to know what else to do.

I never had a problem teaching my other children and I often cried
myself to sleep wondering what I was doing wrong with Beau. In
comparing him with his brothers, It was evident that something was
radically wrong but I couldn't put my finger on it. His motor skills
were all up to snuff but when I tried to explain things to him, he
would gaze off blankly and go on with what he was doing as if I hadn't
said a word. So often I thought it was just that he wasn't listening
to me and I punished him for it.

Someone suggested we have his hearing checked, so we had his hearing
checked. It wasn't that. He could definitely hear and that's when
"selective hearing" was introduced as a possibility, which I didn't go
along with. I thought it was a bunch of nonsense; another label our
system was using for disobedience. Yet every time I tried to show him
things or teach him the basics it was as if there was a short circuit
in his little head and nothing I said was registering.

Potty training came and went with fast results as with the other
children but still no language skills. His inquisitive nature got him
into more trouble than I care to recall, leaving me feeling like the
world's worst mother for all the discipline that poor kid got.

Preschool didn't seem to help. The kids made fun of him. Kindergarten
brought no promise of him ever being able to learn. Health wise, he
checked out like all the rest.

Being a stay at home mom, I was always with my children and with my
contempt for many doctors and pharmaceutical companies, I leaned
heavily on natural remedies, to the point where I had my daughter at
home with a birth attendant.
I'd had three natural births and by the time she came I was adamant
about having her at home, like my grandmother had had all eight of
hers, with no problems. I know my body and I had no qualms about it,
whatsoever. It was the best delivery I had.

As Hikke began to develop--and pass him up in her talking skills, etc.
I was growing frantic. It seemed I'd exhausted everything I knew to do
for my son.

Then one afternoon, as he was eating an ice cream cone, I happened to
be watching him and I saw it. For maybe five seconds, he went totally
blank, staring off into space with a fixed expression on his face and
my mother's instinct kicked in. It wasn't just a day dream he was
having. Something about it didn't set right and I called the doctor.
That's when I first learned of petit mall seizures.

I knew all about grand malls. When Cody was little he couldn't
tolerate fever and went into some of the worst grand malls I'd ever
seen until he later outgrew them but petit malls were a whole new
ballgame for me. We wasted no time in getting him to a neurologist
where we learned through sleep tests that the poor little guy was
having them as often as one every fifteen seconds!

Of course, I went through the "wherefores and the whys", the "what did
I dos" and all the self blame that goes with having to face something
like this but I was very health conscious and always watchful and
aware of my children's needs. Nothing came to mind. I didn't smoke or
drink and I darn sure didn't do drugs. Even now, I don't take any more
pills than is absolutely necessary. I didn't even take birth control
pills!

Aside from antiibiotics and vitamins, my children were never exposed
to drugs of any kind in any way and now we found that the only
alternative to his seizures was heavy drugs and it about killed me.
The only consolation I had was the hope of him growing out of them
like Cody had and the side effects from the medication left me with
many questions yet unanswered.

Yes, they seemed to stop the seizures, if not slow them down but in
the process, he went from being a slender, active, energetic little
boy of pure sinew, to listless and obese. The weight piled on at an
alarming rate and his appetite for adventure turned to an enormous
appetite for food.

Then came my divorce and all that it entailed. It was vicious and
cruel. True to his word, that if I ever left him, my ex would destroy
me and he gave it his best shot, which didn't help my son any. Though
things have changed tremendously by nothing short of a miracle it only
complicated things for my boy, but thanks to a wonderful step mother
who I believe truly loves my children, and diligence on her part when
I was removed from the picture, he continued with school.

Despite his difficulties and against all odds, having been told he
could never be taught, that schooling would never help, she stuck it
out with him when I couldn't be there as much as it tore my heart out.
At that point, it was all I could do to keep my own sanity.

My boy has risen above being called a retard, being bullied and
harassed and has grown into a fine young man with a deep seeded
compassion for others and I couldn't be more proud him if he were
graduating from university. He has grown into a fine person with a
true heart, which is more than I can say for some educated idiots
running around today with all their pomp and arrogance.

Instead of giving up when he was made fun of for being different, he
kept on goiing. He stuck it out, even going one more year, just to get
things more down pat before finalizing his public education.

This Mother's Day, he is going to walk down the aisle with his
classmates and receive his diploma. With a son who has demonstrated
the same determination as his mother, what better Mother's Day gift
could I want?

God bless you, my Beau Tanner! You have made me SO PROUD of the man
you have become! You have given me the best Mother's Day gift a mother
could ever ask for. I love you, my son!