The Po Show

The Future, in Hindsight

My little boy is falling apart, emotionally and physically. He's just a mess, and I'm a mess watching him. I plod along, trying to act like everything is normal, and deal with the bombshells as they strike, and keep doing all the things I'm supposed to do to find him help, to find ways to make this better.

But I look at his pictures, of when he was a baby and a toddler, this sweet, open-faced, beautiful boy. The baby that kissed all the other babies, who laughed so exuberantly, who squealed with delight. My brilliant baby who said "Mama" at five months and who knew his letters at 18 months.

How could I have known then, what was in store for us? I couldn't have, I know, but I look at his pictures from that time and think "Oh my god, we had no idea. We had no idea what things were going to be like." No idea how much pain this little boy would suffer, how hard life would be for him.

It's like when you're driving on the freeway, and you see the traffic bottled up on the other side, practically at a standstill. You keep driving, and you reach the point just before the traffic over there starts to slow down. They haven't hit the jam yet; those drivers don't know yet that they are headed into a major problem. They are still cruising along at 65, blithely unaware that everything is going to grind to a halt soon. You think, "Wow, they have no idea what they're in for."

It's like that.