On Saturday, Luke, Mitchell and I went to rejoin the Cincinnati Museum Center. Luke loves to go to all 3 of the museums there. The visit marked the first time I used the handicapped parking pass we secured following Mitchell's getting a wheelchair. Chris and I agreed to not use it often. Only it would come in handy when going to places difficult to get to like a Reds game. (Yes, I've already thought about using it when Christmas shopping at Kenwood Towne Center. C'mon...you'll be okay with one less regular parking space being used!)
So I used the pass on Saturday. The parking lots for the Museum Center are quite far from the entrance. Wheelchair parking is no charge and right in front. Sweet.
Toward the end of our 4 hour visit I started reflecting on how nice everyone working at the center had been to us. Of course they are likely regularly courteous, but the attention seemed markedly different. I realized, we can no longer pass Mitchell off as a 9 month old. He's gotten bigger. His deficiencies are getting more obvious. People are extra kind at a place like that to families with a disability.
Also new, a handful of children of the more bold variety dared to ask me questions. One girl posed, "Why is he in that chair?" A boy asked, "What happened to him?" It seemed to them, like it does to us, this boy looks so normal, and yet he is not mobile.
Each time I answered in a way to encourage them. I hope there are tons more children to come that want to reach out and break the barrier between them and the chair. Or talk to other children in similar situations. I'd say, "First, thank you so much for coming up to us and asking a question. My son can't walk so he gets around in this chair."
Luke must have been in tune with the shift of reactions to Mitchell too. For awhile he played in a giant sandbox in the Natural History Museum along 2 younger boys. One of the boys poured sand on top of his brother. Luke told the boys' grandma, "Our baby doesn't do stuff like that, he's sick." Later I heard, "Our baby will walk when he's 3, right Mommy?" And then sealing the fact he too knows Mitchie really isn't a typical baby, "When I was a baby, I did everything great."
We closed the afternoon with a treat of ice cream over which I asked Luke if he was okay with having a brother who is a bit different. He shook is head affirmatively and genuinely smiled. He's okay with it. He reflected my question back to me. "Are you okay with having a baby like Mitchie?" I was honest and said there are times when I wish things were different, but I know how lucky we are to have Mitchie in our family.
It was a sweet moment of mutual understanding even between a mom and her 4 year old. It starting to not really matter so much anymore what happened to him.
So I used the pass on Saturday. The parking lots for the Museum Center are quite far from the entrance. Wheelchair parking is no charge and right in front. Sweet.
Toward the end of our 4 hour visit I started reflecting on how nice everyone working at the center had been to us. Of course they are likely regularly courteous, but the attention seemed markedly different. I realized, we can no longer pass Mitchell off as a 9 month old. He's gotten bigger. His deficiencies are getting more obvious. People are extra kind at a place like that to families with a disability.
Also new, a handful of children of the more bold variety dared to ask me questions. One girl posed, "Why is he in that chair?" A boy asked, "What happened to him?" It seemed to them, like it does to us, this boy looks so normal, and yet he is not mobile.
Each time I answered in a way to encourage them. I hope there are tons more children to come that want to reach out and break the barrier between them and the chair. Or talk to other children in similar situations. I'd say, "First, thank you so much for coming up to us and asking a question. My son can't walk so he gets around in this chair."
Luke must have been in tune with the shift of reactions to Mitchell too. For awhile he played in a giant sandbox in the Natural History Museum along 2 younger boys. One of the boys poured sand on top of his brother. Luke told the boys' grandma, "Our baby doesn't do stuff like that, he's sick." Later I heard, "Our baby will walk when he's 3, right Mommy?" And then sealing the fact he too knows Mitchie really isn't a typical baby, "When I was a baby, I did everything great."
We closed the afternoon with a treat of ice cream over which I asked Luke if he was okay with having a brother who is a bit different. He shook is head affirmatively and genuinely smiled. He's okay with it. He reflected my question back to me. "Are you okay with having a baby like Mitchie?" I was honest and said there are times when I wish things were different, but I know how lucky we are to have Mitchie in our family.
It was a sweet moment of mutual understanding even between a mom and her 4 year old. It starting to not really matter so much anymore what happened to him.
1 comment:
what a sweet and honest moment...so glad you shared it
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