The End of an Era

 This is Playschool.

This has been a haven for Matthew and for me, for a couple of hours, once a week, since he was about 2 months old. In the beginning, I would bring him and lay him on a blanket. He would explore toys and soft objects. He would get visits from the physical therapist, speech therapist, and other, always-smiling early intervention specialists. I would get to meet up with other parents of children with disabilities, and interact with the various teachers and specialists. It is a positive, happy, place where children with different challenges can play and get stronger. 

Matthew is now the King of Playschool. He's the master of the slide, the ball pit, the swing, and the roller coaster, a plastic car that runs down a little track. He runs from the toy room to the Big Room, and knows where he can get a snack, when he's hungry.

Because Matthew is three, his early intervention services are ending. In January, he will transition to preschool, and receive services through his new school.  I have loved being part of the Napa Infant Program and will never forget the women who have worked with Matthew to help him progress through his milestones and reach new ones. I will miss all the other mothers and teachers  I have had the pleasure of associating with on Matthew's behalf and I will miss, this safe, warm,  play place for Matthew.

I wish these were the things parents could be told at the same time they receive the diagnosis that their child has Down syndrome, or Angelman syndrome, or that their child will be blind or deaf. Because there is no fear in these little, magical spaces. Just love and encouragement and good, good people who are there to help. It takes a village for any child, and it is so obvious in places like these.