It's taken me a long time to come to terms with the challenges Max has as a result of the cerebral palsy. Last week, though, I realized I'd better quit being so accepting.
It started with my niece's one-year birthday party on Sunday. My sister was having it in a big event room with 50 guests, and Max typically hates crowd. I'd resigned myself to the scenario I envisioned: He'd wail and screech and want to leave. "I'll hang out with him in Judy's apartment," I told Dave.
Except here's what happened:
I mean, he even did the limbo.
Except here's what happened:
And then, last night, Max was roaming around naked before bathtime. I've made peace with the fact that we're in for a long haul before he'll potty train. We've tried, but no interest.
Except here's what happened:
Max wandered into the bathroom and pointed to the potty seat. We put it on the toilet, plopped him on it and he peed. At which point I performed my world-renowned "Max peed in the potty!" dance, coming soon to DVD.
My level of excitement—and surprise—at these events tells me something. To be sure, the accomplishments are worth woo-hooing about. But the thing is, I have gotten so complacent about Max's disabilities that I am bowled over when he surpasses them.
When he was a baby, I refused to accept. No, I didn't really have a kid with cerebral palsy and maybe it wouldn't even show and please please please let him be OK. As he got older, I did battle with the cp. I massaged Max's stiff little legs and arms, and got down on the floor and showed him how to crawl, and then I helped him move his arm and leg and arm and leg to get him to crawl.
But surprised? No, I wasn't surprised when he finally crawled on his own and took steps and walked.
Now Max is 7, almost 8. And I'm getting a little too astounded by his progress. I think it's because I've accepted the cerebral palsy. I've drunk the special needs Kool-Aid. Yeah, my kid has brain damage and his muscles are somewhat messed up but he's walking and he talks in his own way and he's using both his hands and he's doing amazingly well for himself and yes, he's super-cute, thank you.
And yet.
This acceptance has done on a number on my expectations. It's neutralized them, so I no longer anticipate accomplishments, though of course I celebrate them when they happen.
I need to rip my head and heart out of this complacency rut and realize that Max is going to keep getting the best of the cp month after month after month. There is much to look forward to.
Max deserves that anticipation.
Screw you, cerebral palsy. I'm not going to accept you.
