Kids love crutches. They always want to play with them and ask lots of questions. Most of the time my son Oliver has little interest in them, he is around them every day. He’s into trucks. He has pointed to my crutches and said “momma” so I know he gets that they are mine. He also points to diet Mountain Dew cans and says “momma” which makes me cringe. *addict
I anticipate there will be a day when he’ll ask more questions. There will also be a day when he is a teenager and will wish his mom was normal. Being different at that age is not cool and parents in general are lame at 13, so my odds are really stacked against me.
In the last few weeks he has become more observant. The other morning I was fixing his hair and getting him dressed before going to daycare. He grabbed my hand and stared at it. He poked my wrist where it is bent and then said “momma” and smiled at me. I almost cried. It was another sign he was getting older and his grin was so dang cute.
Oliver inherited a shirt with way too many buttons. It’s a total hassle and in my dream world we would use Velcro, seems much simpler if you ask me. This shirt is cute though and I like cute clothes. I’d give up food and running water if it meant another outfit. So I slowly tackled the buttons that morning while he was distracted by cartoons. That night I went to give him a bath and my husband left to run some errands. Here I was battling this shirt again and let me tell you, it was looking a lot less cute at 7pm on so many levels. After a day of drooling and playing outside it was wet and gross. I quickly learned that damp clothes are even harder to unbutton.
My son leaned against me and let me fight my way down the row of tiny little buttons. I was about halfway down when he looked at me with his big blue eyes and grunted, “momma stuck.” He seemed concerned for me and my battle with his shirt. During perfect moments like that, camped out on the floor next to the tub, it seems like he knows more than we think. I like to believe that God gave him a little reminder right before being born that he needs to be patient with his mom. Once and awhile he remembers and gives me the extra time I need. Good boy Oliver. Good boy.
Here is a video of a little puddle splashing. Not a battle worth fighting that day so I decided to join in. Enjoy!
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