It seems like twice a year I have a really hard time with things. This time of year is one of them.
I am a teleworker and my office window looks out to a cul-de-sac. It feels like every year I sit there and watch kids slowly start to play outside more and more, day after day as the weather warms up. I wish so much that I would look out and see Vivian running around, having fun with other kids. Maybe next year.
I was in a slump. It felt like if a negative thought merely crossed my mind, tears were in my eyes. I’ve been like this for a few weeks now. Monday was especially rough. I came across a blog about a woman who had just lost her 6 year old son. He wore orthotics. He had low tone. He had global developmental delays. I felt that I could emphasize what she was going through, raising her son with these special characteristics, though he had serious medical issues, which Vivian does not have. Of course the what-if thinking began. I got out of the house that evening, just to clear my head. Later that night, Vivian was playing upstairs and started to play with this wooden puzzle that’s a big more difficult than the ones she’s used to. This one is Thomas the Train with no pictures underneath to match up and they’re pairs of opposites. I sat on the floor and watched as she put the first one in. “Yeeeaaa!!!” came from her biggest cheerleader. And one more piece in after that. It wasn’t taking her long at all to find where these pieces went. One by one she completed put every piece in the right spot. When she was done we were both clapping and I was almost in tears. She was so proud, as was I.
My train had taken a turn to negative town, but it was in that moment I turned it around. I told myself, as I’ve done many times before, to stop dwelling on what she can’t do. She had just done a puzzle that she wasn’t able to do last week. The night before, she knocked during Toy Story 3 when Lots-O did (not after, right on cue). When her daddy asked for a kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a big one. Tonight during my goodnight hug I asked her to pat my back – she did. The joy she brings is overwhelming and sometimes I just have to take a step back and realize how much the little things add up to.