Jack

February 2007

Monica stood outside the bathroom door and gave a gentle knock. "How is it going in there?"

She could hear Chandler's muffled, uneasy voice come through from the other side of the door. "I don't know. He is just sitting there. Nothing is happening."

Monica nodded and brought her hand to her chin. "Well, why don't you show him how to do it? Maybe then he'll copy you."

"Am I allowed to do that?"

Monica's brow wrinkled with confusion. "What do you mean?"

Chandler's voice trembled with uncertainty, almost as if he wasn't sure how much he could say out loud in front of his son. "I mean, what are the rules with this kind of stuff? You know…getting…" he hesitated and then decided to spell out the next word "N-A-K-E-D in front of a toddler? If I show him how to do it, won't he get scarred from some traumatic childhood memory?"

Monica only got more confused. "What the…" she cupped her mouth and whispered, partly to mock her husband, and partly to protect Jack from hearing her say a bad word, "H-E-L-L are you talking about?"

She could sense Chandler moving closer to the bathroom door, and his voice dropped down to a whisper. "Because if I show him, then he is going to see my…uh...P-E-E P-E-E."

Monica couldn't help but laugh at her husband's apprehension. "You know, when you spell it out, it just sounds like your saying pee-pee anyway, but in a much creepier way."

Even without seeing his face, she knew he was shooting her a look. "Okay, but I won't be responsible if he needs years of therapy."

Monica rolled her eyes. "Chandler! Come on! We said we wanted to have the kids potty trained before they turned three! Now get your head in the game!"

"All right! All right."

Monica could detect his frustration and sense him accepting his utter defeat by his tone. She pumped her fist quietly and made a mental note of her small victory. She then heard the sound of the toilet seat being put in the upright position. It got quiet for a moment and Monica wondered what was happening. "What's going on in there now?"

Chandler's voice sounded hesitant. "I uh, I don't think I can go with all this pressure on me to perform now."

"Chandler!"

"Okay, okay." Monica had to stifle another laugh. Even when her husband was being immature about things like this, she still found him very amusing. She leaned against the door and tried to listen closely to what was going on inside the bathroom.

"All right Jack, so you just have to do what daddy is doing." She heard Chandler say. "Just watch and see how it's done."

"Yeah, but maybe have better aim, Jack." Monica chuckled, unable to resist taking a jab at her husband while he was in a vulnerable state.

"Oh, no! Jack!"

Monica was startled by Chandler's shout. "What? What happened?"

"Well, he's going…"

Monica let loose a sigh of relief. "He's going! That's great!"

"He's going on the floor."

Monica's lips flattened at that revelation. "That's not so great."

"Okay, I moved him to the toilet."

Monica waited impatiently for a few seconds and then tapped on the door. "Okay now what's happening?"

"He stopped going the second I put him in front of the potty."

Monica shook her head in frustration. "Oh Man! You know, if I had the same equipment as Jack, we'd be done training him by now!"

"If you had the same equipment as Jack, our relationship would be very, very different."

Monica screwed up her face at his joke and then leaned against the door again. "Okay, well, it sounds like he kind of got the idea of what to do. Why don't you try to show him again?"

"How much do you think I have in me?"

Monica huffed. "Come on Bing! Focus! No more diapers in 2007!"

"No more diapers? Aren't we adopting another baby this year?"

Monica huffed in frustration. "Don't argue semantics!"

"Okay, okay. I'll try again." Chandler got quiet and Monica thought about knocking to find out what was happening, but decided to try and be patient. She then heard Chandler speak up again. "All right Jack, just watch this time."

Monica smiled as her eyebrows lifted. "And…is it working?"

"Well, he is going again."

"Great!"

"On the floor again. It's kind of like a party trick. I move him to the toilet, he stops, I move him away, he goes."

"That's a party trick? What kind of parties do you go to?"

"I didn't say it was a good trick. Okay, good news is that he stopped going on the floor. Bad news is that we might have to throw away this bath mat."

Monica folded her arms. "I don't want to hear about bath mats. I want to hear that you got him to go on the potty."

"Potty. That's a funny word. Why do they call it a potty? Have you ever thought about it? Did people go in pots back in olden times? If so, what did they cook in?"

Monica rolled her eyes. "That's it. I'm coming in!"


March 2007

Monica and Chandler sat in the waiting room of the child phycologist's office. Monica leaned back with her hands on her bag. Every now and then she would look inside it, as if she needed something, and then, when her search came up fruitless, she would glance at the clock. Chandler mindlessly flipped through the same three magazines that were spread out on the table next to him. He never stopped on one page long enough to read anything, but he kept his hands and mind busy by thumbing through each one.

Both of them were riddled with anxiety and doing their best not to show it in front of each other.

There weren't too many times when they both felt this kind of apprehension at the same time in the say way. Even when they met with Dr. Connelly, after they had found out about their infertility problems, they took turns being the irrational one. Chandler would find his focus with a joke, Monica distracted herself by diving into all the pamphlets and absorbing as much information as she could. One of them always had their hand on the steering wheel, ensuring that, while they may hit a dangerous curve. they would never crash against the embankment.

But this time, it was different. This wasn't about them. It was about their son. They couldn't take the tests for him. They couldn't research what they didn't know. They couldn't plan or make jokes. All they could do was wait. And so they fidgeted, and kept their hands and minds busy, to keep themselves from going crazy.

When they were finally called into the office, Dr. Zanalin was already sitting behind his desk with a stack of folders. Each one looked so stuffed that they might burst. Spilling their contents all over the room. Chandler looked down at them, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of paperwork. Monica wondered how they were organized and if she had to take time to do that before reading everything.

Dr. Zanalin nodded at them and gestured for the two of them to sit down. "Mr. and Mrs. Bing, how are you this morning."

Chandler sat and shifted in his chair. "Good. Well, maybe good. I guess that depends on what happens in the next few minutes, Doc. Maybe we should be asking you. What's up Doc? Ha! Get it, like Bugs Bunny. Do you have a carrot in here? I could do a whole bit…"

Monica reached over and squeezed Chandler's thigh to stop his rambling. "What I think my husband is trying to say is…uh…well…" Monica suddenly found herself unable to come up with the right thing to say and sputtered out "what's up Doc?" in her best Bugs Bunny impression

Chandler shook his head. "You really cleared that one up, Mon."

Monica shot him a quick, aggrieved glance and then smiled as she turned her focus towards Doctor Zanalin.

Zanalin opened one of the folders. "Okay, so I have all of Jack's results, and there are a few things that we need to be concerned with."

Monica shifted forward. "Like what?"

"His motor skills aren't where we'd like them to be for his age. He has trouble grasping small objects and moving them from one place to another using just his forefinger and thumb. His stacking isn't really there either. Then there is his core strength. That's also not developing as much as we would like for his age."

Chandler sat back and crossed one leg over the other. "Okay, so, do we get him a gym membership or…."

Monica shook her head and patted Chandler on the knee. "Please. Continue doctor."

"There are also some developmental delays that concern us with speech, receptive language, and some cognitive skills. Things like sorting or identifying colors and shapes. And he doesn't seem to really acknowledge a lot that goes on around him. I had him playing with some blocks and when I took a few away, he didn't really react to it. But he does respond well when you call his name. Especially the two of you. And he makes great eye contact when you do catch his attention."

Monica nodded. "Okay. What does all that mean?"

Doctor Zanalin sat forward and clasped his hands together. "Basically, he may develop some learning disabilities and he's is kind of right there on the spectrum. Now he is still very young, and we could give it a year and test him again to see if he improves in any of these areas on his own, but I don't think I would recommend that. I think you need to start enrolling him in EIP."

Chandler shot up. "Pee. We tried the peeing thing; that doesn't work either."

Monica tried hard to suppress a smile. "I don't think that's what he means honey."

Doctor Zanalin had to shake his head and refocus after getting his train of thought derailed by Chandler's outburst. "No, Mr. Bing. An EIP. Early Intervention Program. He would get some OT, PT, maybe some one-on-one ABA type stuff. Speech therapy." He handed Monica one of the folders. "There is a list of agencies in here and some information on how to apply for an EIP through the state. Once he gets a little older, you'll go through the school district, but for now, I think you'll need to get Jack some in-home services."

Monica looked down at the folder in her lap and winced as if it weighed a ton. "How much care?"

"Well, that's really something for you to work out with the agency after they see all his results, but I would think OT and PT a couple of times a week. Same with speech. ABA every day."

Chandler smiled. "I have all their albums." He then turned to Monica. "See! I told you those were a classic!"

"ABA. Not ABBA." Monica held up one of the pamphlets from the packet and pointed towards the letters ABA. She then turned to Doctor Zanalin. "How long will he have to do this?"

Well, that all depends on Jack. How he tests in the future. What the data says. I wouldn't worry about that, and just focus on getting started. Now, he has a twin? Right?"

Monica nodded. "Yes."

"Anything with her concerning you?"

Chandler nodded. "She can be really mean. And she rats me out all the time."

Monica shook her head and gestured with her thumb at Chandler. "Could you test him?"

Doctor Zanalin chuckled and then leaned back in his chair. "The good thing is now you know what you are dealing with, and there are tools available to help you come up with a plan to help Jack develop as best he can. He may not ever be at the same level as his peers, but every kid on the spectrum is different, and they all progress at their own rate, and some of them need more help, and that's where you guys come in. In my experience, the parents who put in the work, usually have kids that end up reaching their full potential. Whatever their potential might be."


Monica and Chandler sat in the car in the parking lot for a few minutes in silence. Chandler kept trying to think of something to say. Something clever or reassuring that would lift their moods. But he was at a loss. The task that had be laid out before them seemed insurmountable.

He turned to his wife and gave her a soft smile. "Mon…"

Monica cut him off. "Let's get the kids and go to dinner."

Chandler chuckled. "That was unexpected."

Monica turned to face him and placed her hand on his cheek. "I know, but, I want us all to go out and eat and not think about all this right now."

"Okay, but…"

Monica smiled. "Honey, I'm not in denial or trying to avoid anything. You don't need to worry. I just want to have a nice dinner with my family. Tomorrow, I'll make phone calls and appointments and all that. Plus, did you hear the doctor? We are going to need to make a very detailed and consistant schedule. I can't wait to organize everything!"

Chandler laughed. "What do I do?"

Monica leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You job is to not freak out so that I don't freak out."

Chandler scoffed as his voice went up high. "Freak out? I don't freak out!"

Monica shot him a smug smirk. "You're kind of doing that right now."

Chandler grabbed the steering wheel tight and looked down. "Well, that guy said our kid is broken."

Monica rubbed his arm reassuringly. "No he didn't."

"Yes he did."

Monica moved her hand up his arm until she reached his shoulder. "Chandler, that's not what this is…he isn't broken…he's just going to need a little more help."

Chandler nodded and placed a kiss on her hand. "Okay, maybe the doctor didn't say that. But I didn't like his mustache."

"Do you like anyone's mustache?"

Chandler started the car. "So. A nice dinner with your family?"

Monica put on her seat belt and nodded.

"A nice dinner. With our kids? Have you had dinner with them yet? There is nothing nice about it. I am pretty sure Erica got apple sauce under my shirt. Not on my shirt, under it!"

Monica chuckled and let her hand linger on Chandler's arm as he pulled out of the lot and drove home.


April 2007

Monica sat down at the kitchen table and sipped at her coffee. She studied her new schedule for Jack proudly. All of his appointments were color coded and listed out. She even marveled at her penmanship, noting the crisp, clean lines of every word. She had her work scheduled listed. Chandler's days in the office. Doctor appointments. It was all there, like some gorgeous work of art. It nearly surpassed the Mona Lisa scheduled she had made when she was opening "Four".

Chandler walked into the kitchen and smiled as he kissed her on top of her head.

"How much time do we have before the first therapist shows up?"

Monica rolled her eyes in frustration. "Check the schedule! What is the point of displaying the schedule if you are just going to ask me all the time."

Chandler looked over his shoulder at the schedule and then back at Monica. "I have no idea how to read that thing."

Monica playfully grunted out in frustration. "She'll be here at ten."

Chandler nodded. "Good. I wanted to take Jack into the bathroom and see if I could get him to go on the potty again."

Monica tapped her fingers on the table as Chandler poured himself a cup of coffee. "I bet I could nail this stuff if I had more time. We probably wouldn't even need therapists!"

Chandler chuckled, wondering how she could make Jack's therapy a competition. "Mon, you've got to let the experts handle this. You don't see me asking Dr. Zanalin to make us a Béarnaise sauce, do you?"

Monica's eyes went wide in shock.

Chandler slumped his shoulders a bit. "I didn't mean you couldn't do it…just…"

Monica cut him off. "It's not that. I can't believe you know what a Béarnaise sauce is."

Chandler mocked a laugh and started towards the hallway. "I'm going to pee with my son. I'll see you later."

Monica chuckled and got up from the table. She walked into the den and admired her work. She had bins set up. A few three drawer cabinets. Tons of papers and writing utensils. A card table with two chairs. It almost looked like a little classroom in the corner of the den.

There was a knock at the door and Monica checked her watch. "Early! I like this one already!"

She smiled and opened the door. "Hi, come in."

A young woman stepped inside and removed her coat. "Hi. I'm Linda. I'm one of the therapists that the agency sent to work with Jack. I thought I'd get here a little early and see if you wanted to go over anything first."

Monica smiled warmly. "Sure. Would you want a cup of coffee or anything?"

"No. I'm good."

Monica nodded. "Let me show you where I set you two up to work. It's right over here in the den."

Monica led Linda into the house and proudly showed off the workspace she created. Linda smiled and nodded. "That looks perfect. So for today, I am just going to get to know Jack, do a few things with him, collect some data and see what kind of stuff we can work on. I'm not going to put a lot of demands on him. You can hang out and observe if you want or sit in another room. Whatever you want. When we are done, we can discuss things like reinforcers and try to figure out some activities he likes and dislikes."

Monica nodded. "Thanks. I think we're all just a little nervous, this being our first day of therapy."

"Totally understandable." Linda looked around for a moment and smiled. "And where's Jack? I can't wait to meet him and your husband."

"Oh well he is just…"

Before Monica could finish, she heard Chandler's voice booming from upstairs.

"Mon? He's peeing on the floor again. Maybe if I pee on the rug he'll go in the toilet? Should I try that?"

Monica flashed an embarrassed smile at Linda and then leaned towards the stairs. "Uh, honey…"

"Oh! You know what might work! Bring me my ABBA CDs. Maybe that's what Zanalin really meant when we went to see him. I bet 'Waterloo' will get him going like a firehose!"

Monica smiled again at Linda and then gestured with her thumb towards the stairs. "Do you have any therapy programs that will help me with him?"