Aside from harboring fantasies about naps, winning a lottery so we could have a live-in therapist and George Clooney becoming a pediatric neurologist, I regularly dream of equipment in our home that would help Max. Sort of like if George Jetson had a kid with special needs. I'm talking about installing an escalator instead of stairs. A bathtub with mechanical arms to bathe Max. A robot who could dress him, help him drink from a cup at meals and, in her spare time, do all my housework and be my personal trainer.
Last night, I took Max to the pediatrician, which is pretty much the opposite of a fantasy. Not that I don't love this doc, because I do—he is down to earth, realistic yet encouraging and the type of guy you genuinely enjoy talking with. We were visiting because Dr. G had been concerned at Max's annual that he was on the short side. Wouldn't you know it, in the last few months the kid has grown a good inch and packed on 10 pounds (and for that, I have macaroni and cheese with ketchup to thank, although it sure doesn't look as good on me). I was so relieved.
On the way out, Max stopped at a low-lying water fountain. For a good five minutes he pressed the front panel on, slurped, pressed the panel again when he lost his grip, slurped some more, held the panel while I took a drink and, just for fun, pressed it on and off and on and off and....
This was awesome, because Max could drink away without water pouring all over him (as often happens) and because pressing that panel was good flexing of his fingers. And now, I'm fantasizing about having a drinking fountain in our house. Wonder if the insurance company would cover that? BWAHAHAHAHAHAH.
What's on your list of fantasy house stuff that could help your kids? Bet you've got some good ones.
Image: Flickr/ Hamed Saber