I wanted what they had. I wanted what I'd signed up for. Instead, I got the bird. Most days, I know I'm the winner here. Still, it just seems like everything is so much easier for them. But, without struggle, it's much tougher to appreciate the true rewards.
Yesterday I sat at the community center pool (dear readers from back home in los angeles: we don't all have our own pools here. I know, right?!), and I watched so many moms yell at their kids, weary with impatience. I leaned over to Greg and said, "wow. I never see moms of kids with special needs talk to their kids like that. It's like we have so much more patience because we know how much harder our babies work for even the most simple accomplishments."
|poor bird couldn't lift her head during tummy time at 8 months!|
I rarely ever get pissed at Little Bird for running ahead of me or for having to chase after her. After hearing, "well, we're not really sure she'll ever walk or be able to run," I just giggle and praise her. There was a time a few years ago when she was on the big slide at the park and half way down she changed her mind, shouting, "oh shit!" (mom, I swear, I have no clue where she heard that!) I marched straight into the speech therapist's office the next day and rejoiced, "two words! together!" Yes, there are days when I want her to stop
She works so hard. Every therapist who ever sees her is blown away that she can do half as much as she can with the severe low tone she's working with. That's my girl. Fighting on, kicking ass and conquering the world.
|appreciating the little things; stopping to smell the (fake) flowers|