The incident of the Wheelchair in the Room
Most of the time, I'd say I'm just a regular mom. I do all the regular mom things like changing nappies, feeding kids, making sure there is food for said kids, supervising homework... you know regular mom stuff. Only my kids think it is normal for mom to use crutches or a wheelchair.
I am very blessed to have an electric wheelchair which is the best thing since sliced bread because it means that I can do mom stuff (and general human stuff) without over expending what little energy I have.
Every once in a while, I am reminded that it never used to be like this. Like the other day when my wheelchair was in the lounge charging. Now, Bean goes all over the place, sitting on my lap, in my wheelchair. He doesn't know anything else when it comes to cruising with Mom. But my chair was on charge and he was standing next to it looking out the security gate when Daddy moved the armchair on the other side of him and he somehow got a fright which he associated with my wheelchair. After that, every time he looked at the wheelchair, he burst into tears.
After a couple of hour, he got over it and went back to pulling himself up against it and trying to eat various parts of the wheelchair. Fortunately, my extremely expensive cushion was in the car on my manual wheelchair so he couldn't bite it... or that could have rather dramatic consequences.
Anyway, I still felt bad about the entire incident. I didn't like that my wheelchair had inadvertently scared him. I didn't even like that I had to have a wheelchair in his life at all. This was an odd thing for me to feel because I usually love my chair to bits. I know a lot of other people look at it and think shame, but I usually look at and think freedom! This has weighed quite heavily on me. While I know none of my family hold my having a wheelchair (or having to assist me so much) against me, it has made me feel some sort of heaviness.
The other day was my 11th Alive Day. And this year, I let it slip by without saying anything. Usually, we commemorate being alive in some way. At this time of year, I usually experience an increase in PTSD symptoms, which I have done. But I have tried not to burden others with them, and have tried to keep as busy as possible to let this time pass. It has been hard, but eleven years on, I am learning that things should improve if given some time.
Number 1, Number 2 and Bean are certainly keeping me busy, and I do try to make time to spend with Daddy too. He and I need to focus on being humans as wel,l so that life doesn't sweep us away in its busy-ness.
Fortunately, the wheelchair incident has had no lasting damage on Bean, and I have no doubt he'll be as happy as Larry to go cruising on it again next time we hit the shops.... because that's how we roll!
I am very blessed to have an electric wheelchair which is the best thing since sliced bread because it means that I can do mom stuff (and general human stuff) without over expending what little energy I have.
Every once in a while, I am reminded that it never used to be like this. Like the other day when my wheelchair was in the lounge charging. Now, Bean goes all over the place, sitting on my lap, in my wheelchair. He doesn't know anything else when it comes to cruising with Mom. But my chair was on charge and he was standing next to it looking out the security gate when Daddy moved the armchair on the other side of him and he somehow got a fright which he associated with my wheelchair. After that, every time he looked at the wheelchair, he burst into tears.
After a couple of hour, he got over it and went back to pulling himself up against it and trying to eat various parts of the wheelchair. Fortunately, my extremely expensive cushion was in the car on my manual wheelchair so he couldn't bite it... or that could have rather dramatic consequences.
Anyway, I still felt bad about the entire incident. I didn't like that my wheelchair had inadvertently scared him. I didn't even like that I had to have a wheelchair in his life at all. This was an odd thing for me to feel because I usually love my chair to bits. I know a lot of other people look at it and think shame, but I usually look at and think freedom! This has weighed quite heavily on me. While I know none of my family hold my having a wheelchair (or having to assist me so much) against me, it has made me feel some sort of heaviness.
The other day was my 11th Alive Day. And this year, I let it slip by without saying anything. Usually, we commemorate being alive in some way. At this time of year, I usually experience an increase in PTSD symptoms, which I have done. But I have tried not to burden others with them, and have tried to keep as busy as possible to let this time pass. It has been hard, but eleven years on, I am learning that things should improve if given some time.
Number 1, Number 2 and Bean are certainly keeping me busy, and I do try to make time to spend with Daddy too. He and I need to focus on being humans as wel,l so that life doesn't sweep us away in its busy-ness.
Fortunately, the wheelchair incident has had no lasting damage on Bean, and I have no doubt he'll be as happy as Larry to go cruising on it again next time we hit the shops.... because that's how we roll!
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