Smacky (nickname for my oldest) doesn't have what you'd call the best set of legs. With developmental issues since birth, he's had periods when plain old walking-without-falling was a challenge for him. With several diagnoses and many ortho consults, we've come to accept his physical limitations. Years of physical therapy has helped him significantly (as well as helping me to understand how to help him help himself). Despite the great strides, the medical types have repeatedly reminded us that Smacky isn't going to be able to play team-type sports where much spontaneous muscle motor planning is involved. In a static enviroment, he'll be fine (i.e. shooting hoops into an unmoving basket or throwing a bowling ball at a set of pins), but games like basketball or soccer or baseball are out. Observations show he lacks the stamina and neuron connections for quick response and fluid action necessary for following a live ball in a field of people. Believing this, I've focused on encouragement of solitary exercise and more cerebral pursuits like chess and math and music where he didn't need to rely on those crappy wonky neurons to enjoy being good at something. We thought that group athletics was pretty much off the table for him.
That may have been true...until today.
He's the one in yellow. He lasted the entire game. I watched in awe as he followed and dodged and just kept after the ball...how he'd shake it off quickly if he fell. But what got me the most was hearing him continously giggle out loud as he ran down the little field we'd created with our friends in the front yard - joyful in running, joyful in the participation. As far as he was concerned, he was just a boy and it was a beautiful spring day and he was kicking a ball with his friends and it was nirvana.
This child is my hero. As he grows and pushes his limits, I have moments of unyielding awe for this boy who more and more often chooses to live with a mindset of possibilities vs. one that dwells on limitations.
Over and over, as my life plays out, God gives me a strong and clear message: NOTHING is impossible. Every time I let that idea slip from my brain I get a succinct reminder. And it's always awesome.
On tap for tomorrow? Hopefully another pickup soccer game after school. Run my sweet boy!
Here in New England, Spring is rarely gracious - March is normally a mindnumbingly endless time of cold, damp blustery winds with an outside threat of snow. This year? Gorgeous sunshine and warm sun have arrived very early. I'm not naive enough to believe we can't get blindsided at any moment but for now, it's just...aaahh.
I put in a weeping pussy willow tree last year and I'm so happy to see these fuzzy little buds - tending new plants can be tedious work and to see that my little tree has weathered the winter so well does my heart good. The roots have established themselves and that means this baby's gonna make it for years and years to come.
I make my quilted bibs from 100% cotton - washed and steamed prior to sewing. For the backs on others I use minky, a plush polyblend which is thirsty and ready to sop up whatever baby doesn't. Despite their fine look, these bibs can take a beating and stay ready-to-wear through dozens of washings (normal cycle, dryer okay). So many people tell me oh they're s so nice I couldn't possibly use them!. Trust me - they're made to be USED.