I am the world's best cheerleader.
At least in Max's world.
Every morning he wakes up, I start his daily routine, and I give him a clap...
"Hooray hooray!! Max woke up!!! It's time to get up and play!!!"
"What a huge wet-wet you have, let's change your pants so we can get up!"
"Let's move your legs...and your arms. What a great big strong Max!!!"
"What beautiful teeth you have! Great job brushing your teeth Max!!!!"
"It's time to eat...ALRIGHT!! Hooray for eating!!!!" (Every time he eats...we cheer.)
As the afternoon approaches, it's time to play.
"Great using your hands Max! You DID IT, you rolled over!!!!! Wow! Check you out, kicking your ball!! You started your toy!!!"
Time for a walk?
"Yahoooo! Let's go for a walk...and let's dance in the wind!!! Dancin' and dancin' and DAAAAANNNCIN' MAAAAX!!!"
"Max!! Will you carry the mail for me in your backpack? You do SUCH A GREAT JOB CARRYING THE MAIL!!!"
Said at least 100 times a day...
"Max is a good good good boy! Max is the best! Max is so smart! Max is so strong! Max you are SOOOO BIIIGG!!!"
And said even more..."I love you, Max!"
All this cheering, it's exhausting. I mean really, to be this cheery and optimistic all the time, it's so, obnoxious. It seems ridiculous at times, but he LOVES it! He gets excited...he cheers along with me. And it makes all the cheering worth it!
But sometimes, the cheering, it goes beyond ridiculous. Like when there are...ahem...dirty diaper instances. Because, really, my son can create the most unholy of circumstances with his poops. And I think it would be totally understandable for me to gag, or fuss at him for such a big mess, or cry at another evening of an explosion of diaper. But, I can't.
I can't, because I am really really proud of him. Because it takes so much effort, and concentration, and in the end, I am really happy that he pooped, and I want him to be happy he pooped. Because that's how we want approach everything with Max. We want to cheer him on, and encourage him to do his best.
Even when his best for the day is eating, sleeping 16 hours, and making a great big amazing messy poop.
So we can get up tomorrow, and do it all again!
(Max playing the guitar with his music therapist)