Free Damaged by Cathy Glass

to continue getting ready in peace.
    Downstairs, Jodie agreed to lay the table, while I boiled the kettle and set out four cups. She’d already been extremely trying this morning, but as I watched her lay the table I was reminded of how difficult her life was. Even in performing this simple task, Jodie’s limitations were obvious. She couldn’t grip the cutlery, because her motor skills were so poor; instead, she clamped the pile to her chest. Predictably enough, on her way to the table she dropped one of the spoons. She grunted in frustration, then dropped the rest of the cutlery on the table, making a loud clang. She picked up the stray spoon from the floor, licked it on both sides, then wiped it on her sleeve, and proceeded to set the places.
    It was no surprise that she was so clumsy. Poor motor skills and bad coordination are all part of developmental delay. I was no expert on the matter, but I knew that a lack of stimulation of an infant’s brain could have a severe impact on its growth and development. Even being given a rattle to hold helps a baby learn about how the world works and teaches the muscles and brain to respond, so that it can master its environment. Later on, reading books and playing with jigsaws and puzzles help the brain continue to grow and learn. While I didn’t want to leap to conclusions about what had happened to Jodie in the past, I couldn’t help wondering if neglect and a lack of stimulation had contributed to her acute malcoordination and clumsiness. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time I’d seen it, though never this pronounced.
    ‘Well done, Jodie,’ I said, with exaggerated enthusiasm. ‘You’ve been a big help’.
    She barely responded to my praise, and that too was unusual. It was odd to meet a child who didn’t enjoy approval. She seemed very shut off and far away, and nothing I said seemed to reach her. I’d been expecting something of the sort but the extent of it was beginning to puzzle and worry me.
    I poured Jodie some Rice Krispies, and finished making the tea. Paula and Lucy came down together and sat at the table. Jodie’s mood switched immediately, as it seemed to when the other children came into the room. I could see her becoming tense, and her eyes narrowing with anger. She looked up at Paula with an unpleasant grimace, then started poking her in the ribs.
    ‘Stop that, Jodie!’ I said, but she persisted. Paula tried to fend her off, and then lost her temper, and poked her back. Jodie started screaming, making the most of the minor assault.
    ‘Paula, you mustn’t do that!’ I said, angry with her for losing control. ‘Now, the pair of you behave!’
    ‘Sorry, Mum,’ said Paula.
    ‘And apologize to Jodie, please,’ I said, feeling slightly guilty. I knew Paula would feel this was unfair, with good cause, but it was in all of our interests to make it clear to Jodie that you didn’t poke, and you apologized after doing something wrong.
    ‘Sorry, Jodie,’ Paula muttered, without looking up. Jodie was still clutching her side melodramatically, so I decided there was little chance of coaxing an apology out of her, and left it at that.
    ‘Thank you, Paula. That was the adult thing to do.’
    The children left for school, and Jodie helped me to clear the table and load the dishwasher, thankfully without any mishaps. Then we sat down in the living room and I tried to interest her in some games. I decided now might be a good time to broach the subject of her contact. She would be seeing her parents twice a week for an hour at a contact centre, with a social worker present all the time. Meetings with natural parents are generally arranged some time in advance, but my policy was to remind the children only on the day, as mention of it could often unsettle them. In my experience, children tended to play up just before contact so I made the time available for this emotional upheaval as short as possible for all our sakes.
    ‘Jodie,’ I said brightly,