"Mommy, mommy, mommy."

*stomp stomp stomp*

*scream*

As a mother, I’ve questioned, Why are you not listening to me?

I beg for you to stop stomping and stop screaming.

You pierce my soul with the glare in your eyes as I beg, plead, and even try redirecting.

I can tell there is still a major disconnection.

I can let out a sigh, but not until after I’ve cried.

I hear the specialist say, "Your son is delayed by at least 40%."

Now it’s starting to make sense.

The mom guilt is kicking in for ever being frustrated with him.

A sweet boy...