I was at the park today

reading a book with Nick as he leaned over to sniff my hair.  He tells me it smells like popcorn and he asks if we can have some when we get home.

"That's a beautiful dog you have there.  Is it a laberdoodle?"  I look up to see a woman about my age, athletic build, bronzed shoulders exposed in the afternoon sun.  

We talk of dogs for a moment and then she tells me they haven't been able to get a dog because of her son's Sensory Integration Disorder.  Luckily, she tells me, he's almost healed of that.  He used to have apraxia as well but that HAS been healed.  I mention that my son has Sensory Integration Disorder and apraxia.  She removes her sunglasses and perches them atop her auburn hair.  Penetrating green eyes look deep into mine as she tells me of the specialist, one of only three in the entire U.S., that has healed her son.  She sent a video of her child to the specialist and was flying to the clinic a week later.  Apraxia (poof) gone.  As for the sensory issues they're seeing an amazing specialist up in Park City twice a week.  I should really look into it she tells me.  "What are you doing with your son?" 

"He's just doing speech through the school right now,"  I report, realizing full well she may turn me into DCFS at this point.  

I didn't mention that we had done Occupational Therapy, for years.  That we had spent thousands of hours and dollars on private speech therapists, social groups, alternative medicine and ABA therapy.  My family has sacrificed greatly in the name of early intervention, in hopes that Nick would be able to be mainstreamed at school.  Frankly I think Nick deserves a medal just for making it to school and completing the assigned homework each day,  I can't imagine using his down time for more therapy.

"Where do you go to school?" she asks my 4 year old.  Allie stares blankly.  

"My son goes to Challenger.  It's a wonderful program," she beams.

As I walk home my thoughts turn to those who have taken out loans and second mortgages to afford the latest therapy, diet or supplementation.  I have friends who are sacrificing normalcy of family and home in hopes of "healing" their child.  I feel the pressure, wondering if our course of action will be the best for our son in the long run.  

We nod politely as the newest cure is mentioned by well meaning neighbors and friends.  Have we heard of the latest diet?  What about floor time?  Oxygen chambers?  B12 injections?  

It's hard.  

I remind myself that we're doing the best we know how as the smell of popping corn begins to permeate our home.  And then my mind moves to more important things, like if my new shampoo really does make my hair smell like popcorn, of all things.