Regression. It Stinks.

The question we always get...when did you first notice?

Honestly, there were early signs. Jack always examined his toys to the point of obsession, prompting us to envision a future engineering career for him. He never liked simple pictures in books but would ponder over little, tiny details lost in intricate illustrations. I always beemed with pride when he pointed out something my eye failed to notice. My mother picked up that he like to spin around on his bottom quite a bit. He was a late crawler and walker, but he got there within the "typical" timeframe. Sometimes, he ignored us when we called his name, but he's two. Two year olds are ornery, right? Other than that, he was developing on course.

He participated in simple dramatic play, danced to a beat, brought and showed us toys of interest, spoke about 50 words and found joy and engagement in his surroundings and people. Then, he hit 18-20 months.

He started an obsession with spoons. If it was a spoon, it was a thrill. He would run around with them, hold them up to his face until he went cross-eyed and spun around in circles relentlessly with one in hand. Okay...strange, but kids dig strange things. We would go to the playground, and while the other children played together, climbing and sliding, our son would find a stick or leaf and walk around, staring at it intently. How Zen our son is, we thought.

Then, we started noticing a decrease in language. No new words. By 24 months, his fifty words fell to about five: guitar, moon, Dada, Mama and "ah" for all done. By 32 months, we rarely heard those words. He still babbles conversationally and occasionally, we hear a word, but it happens so quickly, we often wonder if we wished it into being. Now, we're looking at a Dynavox communication device to help him communicate his needs. Eye contact became more and more difficult to initiate and maintain.

He loved books. Still does, I suppose. I have pictures of him covered in books, bringing them to us to read, pointing to pictures, filling in the blanks when prompted, etc. They were precious to him. Now, all of his books are half-eaten. We've cut off the corners of most. And it's not just books, every day is a constant battle of keeping the wrong things out of his mouth..."Jack, that's not for eating" "Jack, no eat!" "Jack, that's yucky." The endless chiding and redirecting.

So, here we are. His spoon obsession transformed into a thang for guitars and stringed instruments. I can jive with that. We're lucky and blessed because Jack is a sucker for hugs and kisses, and we like to hand them out en masse. The communication gap is the most frustrating. I remember saying to Bob when Jack was a wee thing in onesies, "I can't wait to hear what is going to come out of this kid's mouth." And I'll admit, reading friend's Facebook posts with cute quotes from their kids and seeing youtube videos of little 3 year old boys retelling the Star Wars plot causes a surge of heartbreak. On the other hand, Jack is cool. He's our guy. He loves us. We know that deep down even if he can't say the words yet. Yet. He will though.

Some other day, I'll tell the story of his diagnosis. It's a doosie.