The Amazing Human Body

Baby Boy was born missing the lower part of his left arm. I often wonder what extra lessons that Baby Boy will teach me in life. I know patience is one, but I think that is a given for any parent (especially those who are in or have passed through the todder / preschooler years). Acceptance is a big one. I am driven to find new ways all the time to teach others how to be accepting of people different than themselves. My "speech" about Baby Boy's arm has changed over the last couple of years. I'm noticing now, more than ever, that I'm having to play teacher to the outside world, especially since Baby Boy is older and running around with other kids. Some days I'm up for it and some days I'm not. Some days I can feel the stares and feel inclined to engage people in conversations and answer their questions and other days, my ears fall deaf to the questions I can hear kids asking from a distance. It makes me weary. Parenting is such a big responsibility and with Baby Boy's disability, the responsibility has multiplied and there aren't any guidebooks or "what to expect" manuals to help me along the way. I have noticed though that I have back-up in my teachings as of late. Already some of our kids' friends and parents are sharing my message with others who ask questions when I'm not close by. It filled my heart with such joy to hear a friend of Baby Girl explaining to another child at the playground the other day that Baby Boy was "born that way".

Anyways, I digress. The thing that caught me the other day while watching Baby Boy run along a path after his sister was how how amazing the human body is. I watched his little legs move and flow and his arms pump up and down beside him. There was no holding him back. His body was responding to his wish to catch up to Baby Girl. How amazing it is that our bodies just respond to synapses in our brain that we don't even feel ourselves thinking. As I watched closer, I was caught by his movements in his upper body. The way he easily picked things up and tucked one under his little arm to facilitate picking up something else. How he is able to swing his blanket around his neck with the help of his little arm. How he has figured out how to take his own shirt off by sliding the little arm out first and twisting the shirt to get it over his head. Sure, there are tasks where he asks for help. But more often than not, I don't think it's his missing hand that's holding him back, it's just his age and his tottering back and forth between being independent and wanting help.

I know there are a million more lessons ahead of me as a mother and most days I'm thankful for those lessons. I can only hope that I am as good a teacher to my kids as they are to me.