Helpless on Gray Street

Today was a humbling reminder, on two fronts, of how painful life would be without Seth. First, I seriously just learned how to upload photos to our computer when I switched to full time computer life on my lap top. Seth has given me elaborate, detailed instructions about how to upload to the lap top and I burst out laughing in the middle every time. There are like 20 steps. How does he think I'm going to be able to do this by myself? So here I am, really wanting to post the most awesome photo of Myles riding his bike, but I can't do it because I'm technologically challenged and my spouse is not at home (he's got class tonight, followed by watching a game at a friends' house. It pays to have friends with tv). So instead, I'm posting this one and hoping our compassionate readers will be satisfied (well, one in particular...she knows who she is).

Second: Myles really can ride that bike. It's unbelievable. We took him to Weaver Park on Sunday and he rode around and around the loop that circles the ball field and he can go for like 5 minutes on his own. He needs help with the starting, and the stopping is still the trusty shoe-scrape brakes method, but his balance, his pedaling, his zen-like calm are all right there. I said to Seth, if four years of crazy amounts of energy that make us want to pull our hair out (or sometimes he just pulls our hair out for us) results in a lifetime of activity, it's so worth it. Myles struggles to be still, to stay clean, to eat without dropping something, but when it comes to movement, he can do it. And I have to say, there's really nothing quite like that parental feeling of pride. From their first smile onward, every milestone is nothing short of a miracle. Forgive me for saying that I can't imagine going through life without experiencing this kind of pride. It's totally different than being proud of your partner or your sister or your mom. It's hard to put into words, but really amazing to experience.

So today Myles really wanted to ride. I think at first he didn't get it that he accomplished this big thing, but now he's realizing this is a significant milestone. So he wanted to ride. Seth was dropping us off in the Montford community center parking lot, a safe place for biking in the middle of the day, and I just couldn't get it together to help him ride. It's the same reason I can't take him in the ocean. I'm petrified of him getting hurt, I can't control his energy (he's all over the place) and so I feel incapable of keeping him safe. I tried to be the good parent who pushes the bike and lets go, but I couldn't let go. Myles was becoming frustrated. But I just couldn't let go; that's Seth's thing. I like watching from a distance so I can cover my eyes if it gets too scary and trust in Seth's ability to keep up with this child of ours. I can't keep up any more. What would I do without Seth's infinite patience and willingness to be the parent who goes where our child wants to go?

Tonight I watched the preview of a film called "Including Samuel" about the most beautiful boy with cerebral palsy. My friend Kara posted a link to the film's website on her blog. And so when I write about Myles' overactive energy level, I sometimes feel a little guilty, remembering that there are parents who would give anything for their kid to stomp into the house in sand-covered shoes on the freshly vacuumed floor. But I know deep down that the accomplishments of children with disabilities probably instill their parents with an even deeper, more satisfying sense of pride. How amazing must that first smile be if you never knew if it would come? Imagine the incredible satisfaction of seeing your child make friends at school when they are not yet able to talk? I can only imagine.

Myles Says: Yesterday, when wearing shorts for the first time this year: "I've got short-sleeve pants on!" Tonight, when asked who he wanted to pray for: "A million people all over the world."

Four is growing on me.