A example of my need to keep perspective.
I met a friend today at the Please Touch Museum. We have a blossoming friendship that began because we each have a child diagnosed with WS. Her little girl is a beautiful, sweet soul, who smiles immediately when you greet her. Evan has much to learn just from watching her, as she is walking and talking quite well. I love meeting at places like this because there is so much for the kids to enjoy and we do not have to clean up after them. 🙂 However, with Evan being a 21 month old who does not walk yet- this can pose a few problems when little Stride Rites are stomping around at his face level. I made the mistake of bringing the scarf that his physical therapist has been using with him to add him in keeping his own balance while walking. Tried using that for about two minutes before realizing I was frustrating the bejeebus out of Evan. He just wanted to crawl and cruise and do his own thing. “His own thing,” includes checking out each and every stroller wheel he can get his little hands on.
This is hard for me.
And I hate that it is.
I try to play it off, saying he loves cars and trucks. He loves to push tractors and trains around the house.
That’s the truth, he does.
But he also LOVES wheels. Especially stroller wheels.
To the point of not wanting to check out all the other super cool things that all the other children playing with.
I swallow, and tell myself that it’s cool, he can like wheels, what is the big deal? My dear friend says something reassuring, probably sensing my discomfort.
I pull him away from a few different strollers, and I keep placing him at exhibits I think he should be playing with. I feel sweaty from picking him up and moving him away time and time again. Then he starts crawling towards an open door. My friend and her daughter are playing together in the “House” section, with pretend bowls and teddy bears. I notice what Evan sees beyond the open door.
|This exact carousel is INSIDE the museum.|
I pick him up and try to lure him over to these awesome musical exhibits with a rainforest theme. I shake every bell, bang every drum, jump up and down with excitement to keep his interest.
I pick him up and he thrashes around like I am taking him to the blood work lab at CHOP. So I ask my friend if it is expensive. She laughs and says it’s only a dollar. So I figure why not, maybe he really does want to take a ride.
As we get in line, he continues to thrash about so I put him on the ground and all of a sudden it hits me.
It is a BIG, HUGE WHEEL. With fun animals on it.
And that was all it took. Putting him down, and watching every part of his face and body light up like the Fourth of July. He hung onto the fencing around the carousel and jumped, laughed, and shrieked with delight. This was not the face of a child who was fixated in an worrisome way.
This was the face of a happy little boy.
|Joy. (If you can’t tell, his mouth is open wide because he was shouting with happiness)|
And we rode together on a tiger of some type. Thank goodness for that carousel. For that big ol’ wheel with fun animals on it. Slow your roll, Erin, slow your roll.
And let your son roll those wheels sometimes…….