Crawling to the finish line as I am smothered with the final field days, field trips, spring concerts, finals, SOL testing, more teacher appreciation moments, school projects, class parties, tournament games and more volunteer "opportunities" than I can shake a stick at.
All the while staying one step ahead of the Truant Officer {barely}. If Eliza doesn't get into college she can refer back to this post and blame the 3 dozen tardies from her kindergarten year.
Summer. I need you now.
Until then, I thought that short video in my previous post needed some broadening.
Let's talk about some of the scenes that didn't make the final cut.
One of the questions Alan and I were asked was what makes us most uncomfortable in this special journey. In unison he and I both replied, "The Stares!"
The interviewer was shocked. "People really stare?!"
Absolutely, unequivocally, resoundingly, YES!
Remember when you were a insecure adolescent in high school and you thought everyone was staring at you and they really weren't?
Yeah, this isn't like that at all.
They really are staring.
Every time I look up, someone is staring right back at us him. When I am away from Bridger and someone else is pushing him and I look like a regular person in the crowd, I watch the people stare. Sometimes they stare blatantly and openly and other times they turn their head to stare once Bridger was wheeled past. When I have caregivers take Bridger into public they have all returned and told me that they were shocked at how stared at they were.
We get used to it, but it never feels comfortable.
Gone are my wallflower days.
The children were outside playing when Alan and I were being interviewed and out of earshot of our answers. When they were brought in and plopped on the couch they were then asked the same question. Alan and I were curious what they each would respond to the questions.
"What makes them most uncomfortable and do they wish they could change in this journey?" the interviewer asked.
Without a breath of hesitation and all four children in complete unison, "THE STARING!"
Alan and I were both so shocked and intrigued by their answer. We hadn't known that they were so aware of it too. They went on to describe many of the times they had noticed it, and even some actions they had taken to counter their discomfort with it.
A while back I came across a little sign in a boutique. It spoke to me and so I promptly purchased it and gave place on an end table in my home. It reads:
Hearing their responses made me especially glad of this daily reminder they have and how to find their comfortable place with it.
I came across the most eloquently written blog post on the subject. It is written by another special mother and this post has circulated around my special sorority because it resonates with all of us -- it perfectly sums up the public experience we all have. Read the link below, because not only is it very very true, it is also very amusing.