Friday, July 9, 2010
"GOOOOOOOD JOB, MAX!!!!!"
"YAY! YOU DID IT!!!!!"
"WOO HOO!!!! GOOOOOOOOO MAX!!!!!"
These are things I say to Max day in and day out. Anytime he achieves something, whether it's climbing up stairs with minimal assistance, successfully grasping a crayon and coloring (no mean feat for him), or spelling his name out loud, I am thrilled—and I want Max to know it. I want him to take pride in his accomplishments, all of 'em. I want him to feel inspired to do more, more, more.
Every so often, though, I get bummed about what Max can't do. Like the morning last week when the kids were at camp, and Dave and I took a long walk on the boardwalk. We got to the end, where some kids were surfing. They must have been about 10, three years older than Max. We stood there and watched.
Suddenly, I got choked up by the thought that Max would never be one of those boys surfing out there, so carefree. I mean, I am sure there is adaptive surfing. But he is not ever going to be a kid who can just pick up a board, run into the waves, jump on and surf. I am not being pessimistic here. That is the reality; Max lacks the upper-body strength and muscle control to do that sort of thing.
"Max will never be able to do that," I said to Dave, speaking behind the safety of my sunglasses.
Dave kept his eyes on the surfer boys. "Max will enjoy what he can do," he said, simply.
And just like that, the sad spell was broken.
Posted by Ellen Seidman at 12:15 AM