12 hours ago
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
The great begonia massacre of 2009 and other theories of chaos
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
Posted by Ellen Seidman at 12:30 AM