Yesterday as we were walking home from a little shopping trip to Wal-Mart, Liam asked me if he could hold my hand. This is the first time he's ever asked that outside of our house (we sometimes dance around inside and I hold his hand in order to twirl him in his chair).
So as he wheeled with one hand and held mine with the other, I smiled and said "Look at you holding Mommy's hand." And without skipping a beat he said, "Just like other kids."
Just like other kids.
Two things struck me in that moment:
1. He is beginning to realize that there are things that "other" kids can do. Of course, this isn't the first time it's happened. After coming home from his cousin's basketball game recently he asked, "But why couldn't I play?" And because I didn't have a better answer than "because you have Spina Bifida," I jumped online and found a wheelchair basketball team in St. Louis. And, now, whenever the subject of basketball comes up, Liam quickly says "I can join the team as soon as I turn six."
2. It really is the little things that matter. At five years old, being able to hold your Mommy's hand on the way home from Wal-Mart is everything.
So as he wheeled with one hand and held mine with the other, I smiled and said "Look at you holding Mommy's hand." And without skipping a beat he said, "Just like other kids."
Just like other kids.
Two things struck me in that moment:
1. He is beginning to realize that there are things that "other" kids can do. Of course, this isn't the first time it's happened. After coming home from his cousin's basketball game recently he asked, "But why couldn't I play?" And because I didn't have a better answer than "because you have Spina Bifida," I jumped online and found a wheelchair basketball team in St. Louis. And, now, whenever the subject of basketball comes up, Liam quickly says "I can join the team as soon as I turn six."
2. It really is the little things that matter. At five years old, being able to hold your Mommy's hand on the way home from Wal-Mart is everything.