Delay is not Denial

What is a developmental delay anyway?

Women, in general, are very familiar with the concept of developmental delays because most men suffer from them at least part of the time. I call this occurrence a "Football Season Induced Delay." A perfectly normal 40 year old man will, at the beginning of ESPN College Game Day, become a Dorito gobbling, soda swilling, insult hurling ogre of a 13 year old. This condition worsens when actual tailgate barbecue smoke is inhaled.

(Of course, my Gregory doesn't fall into this category. He never loses his sense of dignity or decorum. Except during the January 1989 Superbowl (XXIII) when he broke the couch. We blame this on Joe Montana...)

My beloved Suzanne does not have this kind of delay. She may not have a lot of words yet, but she knows how to conduct herself at all the sporting events. She knows "Yay" and "Go" and "oooooh" when something bad happens. I do fear, however, that she is taking after her father and brother in her love of sports and that I should just chuck my dreams of ballet recitals. Unless someone comes up with full-contact ballet, that is.

I'm thinking a lot about the issue of developmental delays only because we got an assessment report yesterday that listed Suzanne at the level of a 2 year old. This isn't a bad thing, by the way, it's just a report. I happen to know that on the day they did the testing it was in the afternoon when she was tired and not particularly cooperative. If it had been done in the morning, the result would have been somewhat different.

At any rate, Suzanne is right where I thought she was developmentally. I like getting this kind of information, not because I'm pigeon-holing Suzanne in any way, but because I like to know what to shoot for. Right now, I'm shooting for college and the Miss America pageant. As long as she is always moving forward there is no reason not to set the bar high for her. She is beautiful, charming, poised, very motivated when it is something that interests her, and she handles a hockey stick like a pro. What more could you ask out of ANY two-year old?