Happy Birthday, Quinn!

I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that Quinn is THREE years old. Seriously, where has the time gone? Nevermind. I know the answer. It's been spent chasing this kid up and down the stairs, telling silly stories, making convincing and often-terrifying dinosaur sounds, and reminding him to use soft hands with his sister/the cat/my eyeballs. Time flies when you're having fun, I guess. But this year's birthday snuck up on me. In years past, I've found myself agonizing over the birthday milestone and remembering that Quinn was still so very far behind developmentally. This year, that hasn't even crossed my mind. Not because Quinn doesn't still have those same struggles; he's very different from a typically-developing three-year-old, but he's thriving and happy and a true joy to be around. And that's really all I want for my kids. They don't need to fit into some mold of perfection that we create when we become parents; they just need to be happy, dammit.

And there's been a lot of talk lately about Quinn's happiness. At the age of three, kids with special needs qualify for services through the public school system, including speech therapy services and even in some cases full-time early childhood education. We waived our right to the latter since Quinn's best placement is at The Rise School, but it puts an added emphasis on this year's birthday since we need to start thinking about what we want for his educational future. As we approach these last few years of preschool and his graduation from The Rise School looms in the distance, we have to make a choice.

Do we:

A.  Push him to be a self-advocate in the sink-or-swim world of public education? Do we fight for an inclusive setting where he'll likely be one of the few kids--maybe even the only kid--with Down syndrome, but where he'll learn autonomy and have a fighting chance to attend college, get a job, and function independently as an adult? If we go that route, will he become fodder for inspiration porn? You know, those viral videos of the kid with special needs being voted Homecoming King or victorious in wrestling match that the "typical" kid threw simply because his opponent has Down syndrome. You guys, I HATE those videos. My kid is not a mascot. He's not here to make other people feel better about themselves. But he does have an opportunity to help other students understand and respect differences, and there's a great deal he can learn from typically-developing peers.

Or do we:

B. Continue with private education where he's surrounded by kids like him? A place where he'll be safe and comfortable, where he'll receive the intensive interventions he's been receiving at The Rise School, but which also might prevent him from learning to interact with the world outside his special needs bubble? Will he even need those interventions beyond the early childhood classroom? Rise's model is based on the hope that he won't, and he is truly thriving there, but is he thriving enough to join a typical kindergarten classroom when the time comes? Will that social comfort be stunting to him as he gets older. Will being around his siblings and their friends be enough interaction with typically-developing peers?

All these questions come out of a genuine desire to do what's best for Quinn. I want him to determine his own path based on his goals for himself, not mine. But I highly doubt Quinn will know his goals at age 5, when these decisions must be made. The extent of Atticus's goals at this same age are to build the latest and greatest Star Wars Lego and to get fruit snacks when he gets home from school. So it's up to us to figure out what's best for him for now. We have time, but with every birthday, we get closer to that decision-making deadline.

While we weigh our options, we'll also soak up these years and enjoy the time we have with our fun, mischievous, hard-to-catch little boy. In that spirit, here's a fun glimpse at Quinn now:

• Likes: dinosaurs, Lucy, anything Atticus likes, books, running to be chased, taking off his shoes and socks when we're already late and insisting that he be the one to put them back on, school, dancing, and ketchup.

• Dislikes: when there's no ketchup.

• Words: ketchup, mama, daddy, Elmo, sock, dino, "ucy" (for Lucy), "caca" (for Atticus. I know, it's tragically funny), book, car, truck.

• Skills: running, jumping, kicking a ball, drinking from an open cup, using scissors to cut a straight line, drawing circles (though he has zero interest in this skill), following multi-step instructions, completing puzzles with little assistance, stringing beads, and walking up and down stairs.

• Adjectives to describe his personality: stubborn, social, loving, and energetic.

Happy birthday, Quinn! We love to pieces!