Every day I am reminded that having a disability gives you a different perspective from the norm. We dream of capabilities, face struggles and long for things that may never have even crossed another’s mind.
But to be honest, I think this goes beyond disabilities – it is just being alive. Old people long for energy and good knees, young people long for independence and wisdom, etc.
The grass is always greener right? But we forget there is probably squirrel poop in every yard.
I think I have mentioned in the past that Oliver never paid much attention that his mom was different.
He’s now 3 and is becoming rapidly aware of what other kids say and
do. Continue reading
Some of you might know that I recently auditioned for a part
in this year’s Listen to Your Mother production.
I am in love. It comes with some guilt.
I cringe at the thought of being treated differently for having a disability.
Here I sit doing the very thing I hate…but look at that face! Look at that nose!
Have you heard of Chris P Bacon?
He is crazy cute and I like to think a determined fighter. He is hungry, he wants to play, he’s dying to go places. All he wants is a fair chance at this game of life.
We tend to root for the underdog, err pig, in life…wanting them to shine. Well, my heart thumps for this chunky little porker. I want him to be able to get around and snack-it-up.
He was born without the use of his back legs. However, some amazing people have used their talents and creativity to help him mosey around. It’s brilliant and makes me smile.
He has a Facebook page and a blog. Stop by and give him some love or just treat yourself to a good giggle. I heart you Chris P Bacon. I’d love to kiss your nose.
I’m not sure if other AMCers feel this way but sometimes it
is the normal people that make my life hard.
I might do weird things like not screw the pickle jar lid on
tight, make pill bottles no longer childproof, keep favorite cups and bowls at
a level that I can reach in the cupboard even if the rest are in a different
place, leave gas caps loose, park in a weird place to avoid slants that make
the car door close when I am trying to get out, stab a hole in the chip bag to
open since I can’t grip and pull it apart…. and the list goes on and on.
These quirks are actually quite strategic. They are my methods of survival.
So with that said, when I reach for Nyquil and it’s screwed on tight or my
favorite cup is up high – I get so annoyed. I know deep down it is not like the world
is trying to mess with me. My beloved friends and family are just doing what to them is normal. Still it messes my mojo and suddenly it takes
me twice as long to do something.
Tonight I was driving home in my husband’s car. His gas
light came on and I stopped to fill it up. It was rainy, windy and January in
Wisconsin. So basically it really sucked outside. A cold that chilled you to the bone. I fought with his gas cap for like 15
minutes. Cursing the audacity of putting
the cap on right.
WHO DOES THAT?
Finally I gave in and asked the girl at the pump next to me
for help. She was like 16 and opened
that sucker in like 2 seconds. What a
show off. I’m sure it was because I
loosened it up for her. *wink*
Am I alone or does anyone else do things like this?
I spent the last 10 days in London for work. I could write a small novel on the things I
learned, saw and felt. It was
amazing. For now I’m starting at the
beginning. The airport.
I have used moving sidewalks before but only with my
husband. I’m usually more courageous when I’m with people that know my
capabilities and wouldn’t encourage me to do anything crazy.
The Chicago and London Heathrow airports are massive. Using the moving sidewalk is a major arm pit
saver but also a touch scary. Same as
escalators, stepping on to a moving platform and aligning legs and crutches in
sync without a free hand to hold on is intimidating.
My friend Neil gave me the gentle nudge to be brave. He’s huge so I knew he could catch me before
any major crash happened. I knew the
gist of how it felt getting on and off from attempts years ago. So I stepped on, found my balance and the
sidewalk carried us away.
YES!
I understand they put breaks in them so people can get off
but if you don’t need to it just means a lot of scary stops and starts. After going on and off a bunch of times I
started to get in the groove. Before leaving my country I became a moving
sidewalk ninja! Thanks Neil. 🙂
I always felt like my son and I had an unspoken
understanding. I like to imagine that in
the final seconds before he was born God sweetly whispered to Oliver, “be good
for your mommy, she needs your help.”
Throughout the past three years my husband was more of the “mama
bear” in the house since he had to carry him and help with the things I couldn’t
do. Oliver tends to give him a hard time on
things that he easily does for me. I’m
not sure why but it gets frustrating.
Last Friday my husband had a fairly serious ear surgery – removing
a cyst/tumor-like growth and rebuilding bones, using a drill, etc. You can imagine how his head and ear felt
after all that. As we came home from the hospital and he landed on the couch, I
began my brief journey with solo parenting.
Let me start by sending any single moms out there a hug..and
a nap…it’s exhausting!
My husband was around but he was in pain, tired, medicated
and under strict orders to rest and not lift anything.
One night Oliver asked my husband to lift him and he said he
couldn’t. Then Oliver said, “mama you can’t carry me, you’re too short.” This was the first time he verbally recognized
that I don’t carry him. His reason behind it still makes me grin…I know I’m no
giant but sheesh, 5’1 isn’t THAT short…
Since he turned three it seems as if he has learned a few
new tricks.
He likes to negotiate.
He knows he can out run me.
He knows I can’t grab him and carry him away when he’s
acting up.
Day one of getting him ready for daycare involved major
drama getting him dressed. He wanted to
chill in his jammies and stay home with dad.
Once we got outside to the car, he ran to the other side of the car wanting
me to chase him around the car. Knowing
it was a battle I’d never win, I just opened his door and stood there surfing
Facebook on my phone until he got bored.
The next day came with an instant replay of getting
dressed. My husband was trying to help
which just made it worse. By the time it
came to the final battle of getting on his jacket, I was feeling like a sweaty
mess. I threw my coat on the ground while trying to put on his coat. After getting him set, he managed to trip on
my coat…fall…hit his head and major waterworks followed.
Shoot me now.
I was insanely happy to go to work. Almost giddy.
That night when I picked him up I was hoping for a clean
slate and some much needed mercy. He
followed me to the car like an angel. He climbed in great. After that it all went downhill. He refused
to sit in his car seat. In the awkward
cramped car I didn’t stand a chance of pulling him up into the
seat and buckling him in without his cooperation. It was dark, cold and I just wanted to go
home. So I stood there in his door while
he sat in the front seat refusing to get buckled up. I have no idea how long it took but
eventually I outmatched him and he made his way back to his seat.
As time passes the challenges change. The days of dealing with carrying a car seat
are gone. No more changing diapers. The
new battles are totally easier on the pride because in the end I WILL win but
are emotionally exhausting.
AMC mommies out there…what have you experienced?
My leg is not broken... 