Aunt Nikki.

In the early stages of Sandler and Bootsie’s communication, they referred to me as, “Nikki,” as opposed to mom. No particular reason, it was simply our norm. Most viewed it as disrespectful, but the title came in handy when the kids were publicly misbehaving. It made me look like an unfortunate nanny dealing with a couple of spoiled children who “some other parent” improperly raised. I ran with it. I was “Nik” or “Nikki” for years.

Sandler and Bootsie eventually outgrew calling me by my first name. I missed having the excuse, “I’m just the babysitter,” when the kids would have an outburst or melt down. It was a crutch I heavily relied on to avoid explaining the inevitable questions from bystanders. I was not ashamed to explain our story, however there was no concise way to describe their condition. In layman’s terms, I would say they have both the “happy” gene of children with Down Syndrome, but also embody the savant behavior of children with autism. In reality, they truly are their own entity.

Fast forward to present day, within minutes of beginning my first skateboard lesson, Sandler and his buddies were cheering on, “Nik,” and skating off rather quickly. A fellow mom approached me after witnessing the interaction, and praised how cool it was to see a grown up learning to skate. She proceeded to ask if I was Sandler’s aunt or friend. With an unexpected case of deja vu, I burst out laughing and explained to her that I was his mom. Sandler was mortified that I would ruin his “street cred.” You could call it karma for taking advantage of the conversational convenience of my kids calling me by my first name for all those years. My talented, little skateboarder wanted nothing to do with claiming me as his mother. Meanwhile, I was trying my best to roll around a skatepark amongst children and not completely embarrass him.

Sandler is warming up to the idea of me skateboarding, but he still stays as far from where I ride as possible. What I have managed to do is: a phenomenal job of landing on my hip creating a volleyball sized bump adorned with unnatural skin tones that have made him that much more uncomfortable with my ability, or lack there of, to skate. However, he did say, “Mommy, I like that you’re skating, but I’m going to call you Nikki at the park so people don’t know you’re my mom. I really don’t like when you turn your skin that color, so please don’t fall like that any more.” 

I have seen a lot of parents who pressure their kids within sports, but I was not ready for the other way around!

- Nikki