It’s only Wednesday and already I’ve learned much this week. Here are a few of those morsels.
There is a reason for setting brakes on wheelchairs before folding and carrying them. A very good reason that may cause great pain to anyone who ignores or forgets to follow that advice.
Procrastination can be useful. For example, if you leave bags of old clothes for Salvation Army in the back of your van for weeks, you’ll have a perfectly suitable cover for a wheelchair when the temperatures exceed 90 degrees.
Black wheelchairs get very, very hot in July.
A women’s large tee-shirt fits perfectly over the back of a medium-sized reclining wheelchair. (Short sleeves are best as they leave the grips and levers easily accessible.)
A seven-year-old girl can lose 9 pairs of shoes under her brother’s bed.
My daughter has more than 9 pairs of shoes. (!!) I’m afraid to actually count how many pairs she has, and I trust that some of those don’t actually fit well anymore. Regardless, it seems an early fetish has already taken root and, as the first (paternal) and only granddaughter on the East Coast (paternal and maternal), she is fully supported by all extended family members.
“Irregardless” is in the dictionary and no matter how many times I insist that it should never be used, my husband will still insist that, because it is in the dictionary, it is perfectly acceptable English. It is not. And whoever decided to put it in the dictionary should be severely punished. I recommend a stern beating with a real dictionary. A real thick one.
Binding a child does not prevent them from growing. Also, as evidenced by my son’s tiny tush squishing out the bottom of his cast, some kids grow much faster than the doctors predict.
It is possible to look forward to cutting toenails. Weird, but definitely possible.
A temporary handicapped parking permit costs only $4 in my area. It is good for six months and, after experiencing weeks of stress in parking lots, I can say it is worth every single penny and more. I also learned that I should have applied for one before the distributing official went on vacation.
And finally …
My son is amazing. Okay, so this is not entirely new information, but my understanding of this truth has deepened. I’m pretty sure he’s a better person than me. He has been so patient and simply accepting of this whole situation. While I’ve fumbled and fussed and sweat over all of this, he has been (for the most part) really chipper and positive. I endured bed rest with both my pregnancies and neither “chipper” nor “positive” could ever be applied to me during those times.
At the beginning of this ordeal, we got a two-way monitor for his little man cave. Thanks to that, we can hear him singing each night after we put him to bed. Sweet little ditties of his own. I didn’t catch all the words last night, but the end went something like this: “I love all my family but most of all Mom and Jesus! The end!”
He is rejoicing and I love to hear it. I want to be like that when I grow up.