Independence

Independence. Defined as "Freedom from the control, influence, support, aid, or the like, of others".

Well, independence certainly sounds like something we should all strive for, don't you think? As parents we all do our best to start teaching our kids to be independent at a young age, so that they don't grow up to be completely inept at developing relationships or living in the "real world" when they leave our houses someday. The goal of independence is the reason we teach our kids to use utensils to eat, dress themselves, and brush their own teeth when they're toddlers. It's something that is expected of us as parents, and something that if we didn't do would certainly lead to ridicule and scorn from the rest of the world.

While promoting independence sounds good in theory, it's not always so easy in practice. You see when you have a child with cerebral palsy, allowing independence is both necessary and incredibly difficult. I have said this a million times...Kaitlyn is fiercely independent. She has been that way literally since the day she was born. She's a fighter, she's tough, and she is incredibly driven. She wants to be as independent as any other 8 year old out there, and I want that for her. I have spoken to older kids and young adults with cerebral palsy, and every one of them has told me the same thing..."Don't treat Kaitlyn any differently than any other kid. Don't do things for her. She has to learn to do things for herself. Don't coddle her." I have heard this from both sides - kids whose parents encouraged independence, and kids whose parents did way too much for them. They all agree that allowing Kaitlyn to do things on her own to the extent that I would for any other child her age is imperative.

I have taken this to heart, and Chris and I agree that fostering independence is the best thing we can do for Kaitlyn. To squelch her independent nature would undoubtedly do more harm than good. Having said all of that, I'm finding it more and more difficult to stick to the plan. What kind of mother would stand by and watch her child fall (literally fall) sometimes a dozen times a day and not help her up? What kind of mother would be shopping in Target, allow her child to stumble, crashing first to her knees then toppling over onto her hip/shoulder/temple, and not lend a hand to help her up? What type of mother would see her child get knocked to the ground while playing soccer with her friends and not even ask if she's ok? Me. That's what mother would do all of that.

You see Chris, Kaitlyn and I all know a few important things:

1. She's going to fall. A lot.
2. She HATES when people make a big deal about it.
3. Unless she's really, truly, hurt, she wants no mention of the fall. She wants to get up ON HER OWN, and move on.

While I know that allowing her to "take her lumps" is the best thing for her, some days are just harder than others. I really could do without the glares from the people in Target who look on in disgust as I stand by and watch Kaitlyn painstakingly roll from her side to her belly, get up on all fours, move her hands from her feet to her knees, and finally walk her hands up her legs as she gets to an upright position. I've actually gotten pretty good about not letting what a complete stranger thinks bother me. What hasn't gotten one ounce easier is fighting my instinct to jump in and help her whenever I can. What all of the people watching these situations unfold don't know is that while I can fire back a steely glare right at any one of them, on the inside my heart is breaking, each and every time.

Recently Kaitlyn had her annual dance recital. This is by far the single most anticipated day of the year for her. She not only loves to dance, but her favorite place in the world to be is on stage. She works hard all year to learn her recital dance, and bounds onto the stage with all of the enthusiasm in the world. This year her tap class did a dance set to "Anchors Away". They were so cute coming onto the stage all decked out in their sailor costumes. As the dance started, I couldn't help but notice that Kaitlyn was smiling from ear to ear. I'm always amazed at her bravery. She has admitted that being the only dancer with a walker is hard, but she gets up there and it gives is her all.

About half way through the dance, Kaitlyn let go of her walker to perform a little spin. When she got back to her starting position, she reached out and grabbed one side of her walker, but missed with her other hand. She fell to the floor, and there was an immediate audible gasp from the crowd. As much as I wanted to run up and help her up, I sat still, held my breath, and hoped for the best. While another child might burst into tears, or run off the stage, Kaitlyn did just the opposite. She pulled herself back up, and managed to finish the dance with a smile on her face. My heart broke for her when it happened, but I couldn't have been more proud of how she handled it. Here's a short clip from her dance. You'll see her smiling face dancing her little heart out. You won't see her falling - that's the least important part of her performance...



On our way out of the auditorium that afternoon Kaitlyn was showered with compliments from complete strangers, kids and adults alike telling her what a great job she did. In the car on the way home Kaitlyn asked me if everyone was upset that she fell. I told her that nobody cared that she fell, but everybody cared that she got up. It's amazing to me that an 8 year old girl can can teach such an important lesson to the hundreds of people watching her that afternoon.

"The greatest accomplishment is not in never falling, but in rising again after you fall. " - Vince Lombardi