What I would and wouldn’t be able to do.

What not to expect.

I wouldn’t dress myself this morning.

I wouldn’t help my kids get ready for a day of school.

I wouldn’t be making plans for the 10yo’s birthday sleepover.

I wouldn’t be planning an event for hundreds of people by phone and internet.

I wouldn’t be organizing a non-conference for the first time.

I wouldn’t be writing these words you’re reading right now.

I want to scream sometimes. My frustration. Irritation. Anger.

Then it’s gone.

Left behind is this understanding that I am blessed beyond comprehension.

Whether it is a doctor with a hopeless diagnosis. A family member with discouraging words. Someone who dares laugh at your dream. Your own internal voice that scoffs at your abilities.

They’re complete farkwits at being able to contain the depths of your possibility.

They’re wrong.

Here’s what you can do, you say:

Not THAT conversation.

We had that conversation a long time ago.

It involved graphs and diagrams and cookies.

My 14yo son wanted to tell me about the funny thing his school buddies did. The story began with, ” These retards...”

A piece of me curled up and wanted to die.

The little one in the picture the left is my cousin Jennifer (I’m on the right, don’t you want to die from the cuteness?).

We grew up together.

To me there was no do difference in the three little girls in the picture.

No race difference. No mental handicaps. No irrational need for straight towels.

There was just love. Family. Complete and total acceptance.

When I hear the word “retarded” come from the lips of MY OWN CHILD it hurts me.

How do I make him understand what it feels like to see Jennifer’s struggles?  To know there is no love as pure as the emotion she is capable of giving.

I ache to define this mother moment of “YES! I understand that you want to laugh at what seems funny to everyone else, but be strong enough to never laugh at the expense of others.”

I’m trying to raise these humans that will be respectful of the difficulties of others, whatever they may be.

You’d think that with what all we’ve been through it would come naturally.

It doesn’t.

It is a part of parenting that is as hard as any other.

It is stunning to find out how much value a person’s freely given smile can have.

For the person giving the smile and the person receiving.

I have been a person who went through traditional braces for 28 months in my 30′s. I remember the difference in my own smile, my willingness to give any passing person a grin.

It was fabulous!

It is a perk of Invisalign aligners that the process of straightening your smile is done in a nearly invisible manner instead of the traditional hot wire mess.

Take a moment to realize how powerful your impact can be.

Invisalign is there to make your impression the best it can be in the most aesthetically convenient way possible.

You only get one chance. Make it count.

Disclosure:

While I am paid for my time, my opinion is my own and is never for sale.

You Got that?? MY OPINION IS MY OWN.**

I’m a member of the Mom’s Advisory Board, and my son received complimentary Invisalign treatment.

Normal people, those unhindered by handicaps, have the luxury of furious departures.

Something the wheelchair, and the limitations that go with it, have forced upon us is greater compromise.

The reasons that we can no longer be a couple are still there, but they are ours and they are private.

No matter the reasons or arguments or unfathomable emotions we share a bond stronger than any judge or preacher could try to make.

The three lives that we brought into the world together will forever tie us.

For them we can be better people.

For them we can make the hard choices.

For them we can stop focusing on US and direct our energy where it should be, concentrated on making sure THEY have the best life possible.

We’ve done sickness and health. We’ve done richer and poorer.

I’ll let you know if this is better or worse.