This post is short and sweet...I'm so proud of Kaitlyn! Over the weekend she sang a song on stage for the first time!
Now, the absolute worst part of this is that I couldn't be there! Any of you who know me know that I really never go anywhere (sad, but true). It just so happened that Chris and I had planned a night away several months ago, and of all days it fell on the same day as Kaitlyn's performance :(
Luckily, Kaitlyn's Nans & Gramps were more than happy to take her so that she wouldn't miss out on this opportunity. Thank goodness for grandparents! The recap that I'll share with you comes from what my mom and Kaitlyn told me about her day...
Kaitlyn was born to be a performer. Ever since her dance recital six months ago, she's been asking me if she could get back on stage again. She's been singing since she could talk, so her music teacher and I decided that this performance at a town-wide arts program would be the right venue for her.
In typical Kaitlyn style, she practiced for months, performing for anyone who would listen. A couple of months ago in a hardware store she climbed up on a deck that was on display, and used it as a stage to sing her song in front of total strangers. I guess it's no surprise that on Saturday she got up on the stage with confidence, and belted out the song with enthusiasm. I'm so impressed with her ability to do these things without any nervousness at all. At six years old, she is able to stand up there, look straight at the audience, and sing her heart out. Neither Chris nor I were born with an ounce of musical talent, nor would either of us ever get up on stage to perform. Where did this child come from???
Unfortunately I don't have a very good video of her performance, but the following clip will give you the idea. It's a little hard to hear her over the music playing in the background, but at least you can get a look at how happy she looks standing up there.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
It's Just Semantics - Right???
Recently I have been struck by how much easier life was when Kaitlyn was three. Really, there is something so great about being able to stretch the truth when necessary to a three year old. They are just too young, to innocent, and too accepting to question their mom at their age. I'm not proud of it, but I can recall a few instances when I may have been less than truthful with Kaitlyn when she was three. So I may have told her that when she grows up she can be a princess and live in a castle - what's the big deal? I may have told her that even though she really wanted a cupcake maker (which I had heard was super-messy and really didn't work) for Christmas, that she couldn't have it because I got a letter from Santa saying that she would have to wait until she was 8 years old ask for that - no harm done, right? You get the idea.
It was around that age that Kaitlyn first asked me why we always put "that tag" on the mirror in the car when we parked the car. Back then, I simply told her that we needed it to park in the special spots, and that answer was enough. Back then, I knew that someday a more detailed answer would be required. Back then, the day when such an answer would have to come seem eons away.
Today, Kaitlyn has blossomed into a bright, precocious and curious six year old. She is very tuned in to everything going on around her, and she loves to ask lots of questions. In general, I welcome her curiosity. I love to look at the world through her eyes and hear her thoughts on a range of subjects.
However, when it comes to her condition, I find that the questions (and the answers for that matter) are getting more difficult. Years ago when Kaitlyn first asked why she wore braces, I told her that she needed them to help her walk. At the time, that was sufficient. Over the last few years, Chris and I have tried to keep to our credo of always being honest with her about her condition, but we would try to give her only as much information that she needed or could handle at a given time. Up until now, that system has worked out just fine. She is well aware that she has cerebral palsy. She knows that she was born with that condition. She knows that she was born very early, and that she was very tiny, and that these factors likely caused her condition. She knows that it's harder for her than it is for other kids to do lots of things like walk, climb and run. She knows that her leg muscles are tight and understands that using braces, a walker and crutches all help her. She is very comfortable in her own skin, and is able to talk about all of these things with ease. She also knows that with a little help and lots of determination, she can do anything she puts her mind to.
This past week I took Kaitlyn to some appointments in Boston. As usual, the worst part of the trip was having to circle all 7 levels of the parking garage half a dozen times before finding a parking spot - UGH!!! Obviously in that situation I wasn't about to be picky and insist on a handicapped spot. I was about ready to park the minivan on top of a mini-cooper by the time we finally spotted an opening. Kaitlyn helpfully pointed out that the spot "didn't have a picture that matches our parking tag". I told her that was fine, and we were allowed to park anywhere in that garage. She then started asking the inevitable follow-up questions..."What does the picture on the tag mean?"..."Why doesn't everyone have one of those tags?"...Etc...
So, while I gave her some simple answer about how the tag allows us to park in the spots closest to the door so it's easier and quicker for her to get in and out of buildings, it got me to thinking...Is it time to start talking to her about some of those words we've avoided like the plague around here?
Words like "handicapped" and "disabled" are two that come to mind. I am both uncomfortable with and accepting of such terms in equal measure. While I shudder at the thought of someone describing Kaitlyn as "the handicapped girl" in the class, I had no problem filling out the "handicapped parking placard" application at the DMV. If a person ever dared to call her "disabled" to her face, I would probably lecture them on how capable she actually is. Having said that, I am so proud to say that Kaitlyn is a two-year member of the "New England Disabled Sports Association". Yep, each year we walk through the door of their office and sign up for the adaptive ski program with enthusiasm and excitement. For the record, I am well aware that statements like these clearly make me a big old hypocrite.
Part of me thinks that talking to Kaitlyn about what words like "handicapped" and "disabled" mean will help to take the stigma off of them. I actually looked up "handicapped" in the Merriam-Webster dictionary, thinking that I would simply give Kaitlyn the official definition, and move on. To my surprise, the dictionary actually lists the term as "sometimes offensive", then goes on to define it as "having a physical or mental disability". How on earth am I going to explain to Kaitlyn that having a handicap is nothing to be ashamed of, or that what makes us different makes us special when the most respected dictionary out there actually says it can be offensive???
What makes me think that little old me can single-handedly take away the stigma of words that have become "sometimes offensive" in our society? We all have watched movies or t.v. shows that make fun of the disabled. I probably never batted an eye at these jokes before Kaitlyn was born. Now, Chris and I have been known to turn off a movie or change the t.v. station after finding a joke offensive or upsetting.
So, I'm at a crossroads today. To talk about these words or not talk about them? To give the definitions to Kaitlyn or not? My gut tells me to just put it all out there and be completely honest with Kaitlyn. I mean really, they are just words, and it's all just semantics - right???
If I really believed that, then I probably wouldn't be sitting here, typing this entry, worried sick about my daughter being labeled as anything that could be defined as "sometimes offensive".
It was around that age that Kaitlyn first asked me why we always put "that tag" on the mirror in the car when we parked the car. Back then, I simply told her that we needed it to park in the special spots, and that answer was enough. Back then, I knew that someday a more detailed answer would be required. Back then, the day when such an answer would have to come seem eons away.
Today, Kaitlyn has blossomed into a bright, precocious and curious six year old. She is very tuned in to everything going on around her, and she loves to ask lots of questions. In general, I welcome her curiosity. I love to look at the world through her eyes and hear her thoughts on a range of subjects.
However, when it comes to her condition, I find that the questions (and the answers for that matter) are getting more difficult. Years ago when Kaitlyn first asked why she wore braces, I told her that she needed them to help her walk. At the time, that was sufficient. Over the last few years, Chris and I have tried to keep to our credo of always being honest with her about her condition, but we would try to give her only as much information that she needed or could handle at a given time. Up until now, that system has worked out just fine. She is well aware that she has cerebral palsy. She knows that she was born with that condition. She knows that she was born very early, and that she was very tiny, and that these factors likely caused her condition. She knows that it's harder for her than it is for other kids to do lots of things like walk, climb and run. She knows that her leg muscles are tight and understands that using braces, a walker and crutches all help her. She is very comfortable in her own skin, and is able to talk about all of these things with ease. She also knows that with a little help and lots of determination, she can do anything she puts her mind to.
This past week I took Kaitlyn to some appointments in Boston. As usual, the worst part of the trip was having to circle all 7 levels of the parking garage half a dozen times before finding a parking spot - UGH!!! Obviously in that situation I wasn't about to be picky and insist on a handicapped spot. I was about ready to park the minivan on top of a mini-cooper by the time we finally spotted an opening. Kaitlyn helpfully pointed out that the spot "didn't have a picture that matches our parking tag". I told her that was fine, and we were allowed to park anywhere in that garage. She then started asking the inevitable follow-up questions..."What does the picture on the tag mean?"..."Why doesn't everyone have one of those tags?"...Etc...
So, while I gave her some simple answer about how the tag allows us to park in the spots closest to the door so it's easier and quicker for her to get in and out of buildings, it got me to thinking...Is it time to start talking to her about some of those words we've avoided like the plague around here?
Words like "handicapped" and "disabled" are two that come to mind. I am both uncomfortable with and accepting of such terms in equal measure. While I shudder at the thought of someone describing Kaitlyn as "the handicapped girl" in the class, I had no problem filling out the "handicapped parking placard" application at the DMV. If a person ever dared to call her "disabled" to her face, I would probably lecture them on how capable she actually is. Having said that, I am so proud to say that Kaitlyn is a two-year member of the "New England Disabled Sports Association". Yep, each year we walk through the door of their office and sign up for the adaptive ski program with enthusiasm and excitement. For the record, I am well aware that statements like these clearly make me a big old hypocrite.
Part of me thinks that talking to Kaitlyn about what words like "handicapped" and "disabled" mean will help to take the stigma off of them. I actually looked up "handicapped" in the Merriam-Webster dictionary, thinking that I would simply give Kaitlyn the official definition, and move on. To my surprise, the dictionary actually lists the term as "sometimes offensive", then goes on to define it as "having a physical or mental disability". How on earth am I going to explain to Kaitlyn that having a handicap is nothing to be ashamed of, or that what makes us different makes us special when the most respected dictionary out there actually says it can be offensive???
What makes me think that little old me can single-handedly take away the stigma of words that have become "sometimes offensive" in our society? We all have watched movies or t.v. shows that make fun of the disabled. I probably never batted an eye at these jokes before Kaitlyn was born. Now, Chris and I have been known to turn off a movie or change the t.v. station after finding a joke offensive or upsetting.
So, I'm at a crossroads today. To talk about these words or not talk about them? To give the definitions to Kaitlyn or not? My gut tells me to just put it all out there and be completely honest with Kaitlyn. I mean really, they are just words, and it's all just semantics - right???
If I really believed that, then I probably wouldn't be sitting here, typing this entry, worried sick about my daughter being labeled as anything that could be defined as "sometimes offensive".
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