Last Tuesday my daughter Baylee had dance class, something she has had every Tuesday evening since the beginning of last school year. Usually my husband Mike is off work in time for me to drop Carson off at home before taking Baylee to her class but this past week we weren't so lucky. Mike was stuck in Indiana late on a job so I had to take Carson with us. Not a big deal, it just makes things a little more hectic. Instead of just getting Baylee ready, I had to get him changed (diaper etc) and get a bag packed with extra things that I may need while we were there. I usually only have about a 10 minute window after I get home from work and picking the kids up before having to leave again which is stressful for anyone.
She has ballet, tap and jazz classes for an hour and parents are not allowed to be in the room. On top of that, this year the school instituted a new rule not allowing anyone in the school between certain hours because of a learning academy that they have going on for the safety of those students. (Understandable, and hopefully unnecessary). They were supposed to have opened an entirely new wing of the school for us parents to wait in since it is starting to get colder but they haven't done it for us for the past few weeks.
When we pulled up to the school another mother and daughter were already heading to the door so I asked if I could just let Baylee out and have her walk with them to class so I didn't have to take Carson up to the doors (Its about 400 feet) since I had accidentally left his stroller in the garage. Baylee hopped out and I went to go park the car. Upon getting Cman out of the car, it was noticeably cooler since the sun was going down, so I fought to get his winter coat on him - certainly not his favorite thing.
As we were walking towards the doors Carson noticed the playground. The school that we were at houses pre-k all the way to second grades but the playground we were walking by is only for 1st and 2nd grade classes. There were a few kids playing there. I am assuming that their siblings were at other practices and the parents were just killing time like I was trying to do, although the only parents I saw that were even remotely near were sitting in a van (2 women) looking at their cell phones and not even bothering to pay attention to their kids.
As I was carrying Carson he was making high-pitched squealing sounds and leaning his body in the direction of the playground. I was having this internal debate about whether or not I should attempt letting him play there. I honestly wasn't worried about the other kids or even the equipment itself. It was more because I was there by myself with him and knowing how he liked to climb up the slide at school I was worried that he would try to do something similar and I would end up looking stupid trying to wrangle a screaming and kicking kid away from the playground because I am not strong enough by myself to keep him safe. In the end I figured he deserved to go have some fun. It was my fear not his and he really really wanted to play.
I helped him up onto the raised area and held his arm as we navigated our way over to the large jungle gym that had multiple slides on it. There were little steps up one side and then a curved slide that was low to the ground so it was easy for me to stand beside it if anything went wrong. I helped him up the stairs and watched as he slowly sat down at the top of the slide. I had just enough time to get back down to the bottom. He slid down and immediately went back to the stairs to go up again. He did this a few times before he caught the attention of the other kids on the playground. One cute little girl with red curly hair came up and asked what his name was. I told her and she then asked how old he was. When I said five the little girl balked. "He's one year older than I am." she said. "How come he needs so much help?" I smiled at her and told her that he had low muscle tone and had a hard time controlling his body. She nodded and went on her way.
As she left a little guy named Rider came up to us. He was three he said. He was really happy to have someone like Carson be around him. Carson climbed the stairs again but went in a different direction than the slide. He found what is supposed to be a swinging rope bridge but it's made of metal. It is built like a rope bridge in the sense that it is low in the middle and high on each end. Carson for whatever reason thought it was another slide and tried to slide down the bridge. He was really annoyed when he only went down a few feet and then couldn't climb back up because the pitch was too steep for him. I couldn't help but laugh as I tried to rationalize with Carson that it just wasn't worth it. It wasn't a slide and he wasn't going to get the thrill of going to the middle of the bridge on his butt and then have to crawl back up to the top.
Rider seemed to get that Carson was having a little trouble and said he was going down the slide again. Carson followed. They were 'playing' on the slide together - although it wasn't even turns because Carson just doesn't move as fast as Rider and Rider was getting more turns because of it. Out of no where after probably six or seven minutes total Rider's mom rushed over to get him. She apologized to me (!?!) and told Rider that he was allowed to get his treat now instead of later (whatever that means) and Rider was quick to follow her back through the parking lot to where ever she had come from. I tried not to take it personal but I know that she got him off of the playground BECAUSE of Carson.
Later when I called my mom about it she questioned whether or not she did it because she knew something about her kid that I didn't. Like maybe she was afraid that he was being too pushy or maybe was going to hurt Carson. I'm honestly not sure. To me it seemed all too coincidental for it just to be he was getting a treat. I don't know. Maybe I'm paranoid but I just don't feel right about it.
Once they were out of sight I took Carson over to the playground on the side of the building that is designated for pre-k. There are only a few things to play on but it is fenced in completely so I didn't have to worry about him taking off on me - not that it would've mattered since I didn't leave his side but it's just the principle of the whole "piece of mind" thing. After he had checked out his surroundings, walking the entire area of the fence and watching the cars in the parking lot and beyond to the road where cars were whizzing by he wanted to swing. This playground was nice because it had an adaped swing that doesn't require any type of balance (think baby swing only bigger). It was nice just the two of us. The sun was going down and you could hardly hear the noise from everything going on around us.
After ten or so minutes he was tired of swinging and went over to the pirate ship on the other side of the yard. It is basically a shell of a ship with gangway stairs to go up a level and a place to crawl through to be in the bow of the ship. He liked climbing the stairs because they were narrow and had rails on each side so coming down he had more confidence.
By this time it was almost dark and had gotten much colder. I picked him up and carried him back to the car. I sat him in the passenger front seat and got in on the driver's side. I started the car, took off his coat and turned on the heat. We sat and got warm while he played with the dials on my radio. I couldn't help but watch the kids on the playground running around and laughing and playing with each other. Many of the kids were either the same age or younger than Carson. This is one of those instances where I feel like Carson is missing out on so many things. It hurts so much to think that if he only had a FRACTION more of one specific chromosome things would be so much different for us and if he had just a FRACTION less of the same chromosome things would be so much worse.
I understand that I am lucky to have the things that I do in my life (my children included). For the most part they are both healthy, they both make me so incredibly proud to be their mom. I know that a lot of times it sounds like I'm just doing a lot of complaining. I don't mean to. I am just trying to be honest with myself and sometimes I can't help but be mad at the way things are or jealous of other families who haven't been stressed since day one of their child being born. Sometimes I wish that Carson had been born without any special needs because it would make my life so much easier. But at the same time, I don't know if I would appreciate the little things as much. Like yesterday when he wrote 'MOM' on his iPad and gently kissed me on my forehead. That right there is love.
XX
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