Max ran over my pink begonias with his Push Around Buggy. Every. Single. Last. One.
OK, I do not mean to sound like the most mind-boggling ingrate on the planet. It is amazing—no, miraculous—that my little boy with cerebral palsy is able navigate a car around. It's true, too, that Max isn't yet cognitively aware enough to realize that you shouldn't roll over Mommy's flowers with your Step 2 Buggy (not that any kid with a brat streak couldn't have done the same). And, relax, I'm not going to revoke Max's driving privileges or anything.
But: I loved that row of bright little flowers that lined the walkway to our front door. Every morning, I'd wake up and stare at them out the window before I hit the shower. When I came home from work at night, I looked forward to seeing them.
I'll do anything for Max. I'm not selfless, though. Just because I have a child with special needs doesn't mean that I have to stop caring about my own needs and the little things that make me happy.
Sometimes, I feel like people think parents of kids with handicaps are saints or something.
For the record, I am no saint.
Now, anyone know how to revive begonias?
Drive with caution
