On his level

Sometimes it’s hard to think of positives about being in a wheelchair.  There’s clearly all the old jokes (i.e. the good parking, not having to stand in long lines, etc.).  But real positives, it’s hard.  I don’t fall nearly as often, so that’s definitely a big positive.  My knees send me a Christmas card every year since I became paralyzed as a show of gratitude.

But this morning, it hit me.  I’m on the same level as my kid.  Literally.  (Sometimes figuratively too cause I have a really juvenile sense of humor and a weird obsession with PeeWee’s Playhouse.)  Because I am about 3 feet tall when I’m in my chair, I’m much closer to toddler height than all the other adults in his life.  It’s easier for him to see some of the things that I am doing than it is for him to observe other adults.  This morning he was watching as I brushed my teeth and he grabbed his own toothbrush and started brushing too.  (His brushing is really just putting his toothbrush in his mouth for 3 seconds and then clapping jubilantly over what a good boy thing he did.)  But when he stopped, he still watched as I brushed.  So I exaggeratingly showed him how to brush all the teeth.  He was enthralled.  The hubs was brushing his teeth at the same time, but the hubs is 3 feet taller than Little Mister.  It’s not as easy to see what dad is doing as what mom is doing.

When I talk to him or try to teach him something, I don’t have to bend over or crouch down.  I’m literally on his level.  I think that’s a really cool thing now that his baby mind is learning nonstop.

So there you go: a way in which being a parent in a wheelchair is not a terrible thing!