Heart Heavy

I am not a helicopter parent, by any means. Sure, I volunteer A LOT at my son's school. And I am always present when he is active in sports (served on his swimteam board, always go to practices, and meets). However, I usually steer clear from him during these activities. I want him to enjoy his independence, while I keep a watchful eye from the sidelines.

When he was younger, I would always ask his teachers if I could go in to his classroom and speak to the class. I would start off by reading It's Okay To Be Different (by the amazing Todd Parr). It's an awesome book that talks all about diversity and acceptance, while being both serious and silly (it's okay to have two moms vs. it's okay to eat macaroni and cheese in the bathtub). After reading the book, I would briefly explain WHY I am in a wheelchair. I would let the kids ask questions (can I drive? Can I go grocery shopping?). And then, the very best part -- I would allow the kiddos to take turns riding around in an old wheelchair down the empty school hallway. They always loved it.

I did it because I wanted them to understand why I was in a wheelchair. But, deep down inside, I had a hidden agenda. I did it because I never, ever wanted Mason to be made fun of for having a mommy in a wheelchair. It always worked well. Especially since I always was at the school -- the kids got to know me and realize that I'm capable of many things.

However, when Mason was in third grade (at a new school), I decided I should stop giving the little "talks" to his peers. He was done with "baby books" and I knew I couldn't hold his hand all of his life, to make things easier. He has a mother that has a spinal cord injury that causes her to be in a wheelchair. Just like some kids have parents who are divorced. It was just part of our family dynamic. WE accepted it.

That being said, at school that year, I was still actively involved. We spent a lot of the summer before at the neighborhood pool, ensuring he met some kids before he started his first day of school. Kids asked why I was in a wheelchair. All kids ask. It's a way of life. I helped with Mason's Destination Imagination group. I was a presence at his school. I didn't need the book. He never was teased because of my disability.

Today, there was an incident. He is almost thirteen years old and in seventh grade. Long gone are the days where picture books can explain things. I don't know how well he handled it. I only found out about it right before he went to bed.

But, it caused my heart to hurt for my little guy. He can't help that I am his mother no more than I can help being in a wheelchair. This is a part of our lives... but that never makes the sting hurt any less.

I just hope there is a day where it really IS okay to be different...