I’m Less Freaked Out!

Today I visited my daughter Claire’s class to capitalize on yesterday’s, uh, eventful experience.

When I arrived this time, all the kids very calmly said, “Hi, Claire’s dad!”  It was pretty clear the teacher had spoken to them after I left yesterday.  As we gathered on the carpet, I confirmed this theory by asking them, “So, did you guys talk about me after I left yesterday?”  I’m super subversive.  They told me that they had all talked about how some people are born with one leg or NO legs or they can’t hear or see, things like that.  At one point as we were identifying differences people might have, this little boy shouted, “MY BROTHER IS SEVEN!”  “That IS different!” I said, trying not to laugh.  He was so earnest and I loved that he identified a difference in his own family.  The teacher asked if they remembered what she said about how we should react and this little boy says, “We’re not supposed to say things about other peoples’ dads.”  Not quite what she was going for, but it made me laugh.  I was overjoyed to hear that she had taken the initiative to talk to her students about the situation and teach them about accepting others.

They had some great questions for me, too, all of them revolving around the same theme: How do you…with one hand?  Most of them didn’t even ask specifics, they just wondered how I did ANYTHING at all.  I told them that I figure out how to do things just like they do.  For instance, I brought a container with two racquet balls in it, so I showed them how I hold it to open it and then took the balls out.  “Do you think I can juggle these?” I asked.  “YES!” shouted Claire.  She was excited about this part all morning.  So, I juggled for them and they clapped as their jaws dropped.  Pretty amazing stuff.

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I’m Totally Freaked Out!

“HE HAS ONE ARM!  I’M TOTALLY FREAKED OUT!” she yelled.

Basically right in my face.

I dropped my daughter off at her pre-k classroom this morning and that’s how one of the girls regaled me.  A number of them started screaming, feeding off of each other, and as I left I saw Claire say, “He actually has one and a HALF!”  I wanted to laugh, but It wasn’t funny.  She looked sad and uncomfortable.  I wished I could have stayed, but had to go to work.  I wish I had stayed anyway.

If you know me at all, you’re aware that I don’t mind kids’ stares and awkward (read: offensive) reactions.  They’re kids.  Yes, it can be obnoxious, but whatever.  Today, though, I thought to myself, “What if I weren’t me?”  What if I was somebody that was more self-conscious; someone less comfortable with himself?  I’d have been horrified!  I would have yelled at those kids and cried when I got back to my car, telling myself, “THIS is why you don’t go out.”

And then at dinner I asked Claire about this morning and she got really sad.  I asked about their reaction and she said they just kept laughing because they “thought it was weird.”  My arm, she meant.  “Did you say anything?” I asked.  “I tried to, but they just kept laughing and not listening to me!” Claire replied.  It broke my heart.  She tried to defend me, but it fell on deaf ears.

Tomorrow I’m going to stay for a few extra minutes when I drop Claire off.

I want the kids to be able to ask me questions.  I want to give Claire a chance to say something if she wants to.  I want them to see that I’m not something to be freaked-out by, but that I’m a loving dad and a pretty funny guy.  I want to tell them, lovingly, that laughing and screaming about someone’s difference is inappropriate.  I will tell them that we’re all different in some way and that, instead of freaking-out about it, we should ask questions nicely and get to know people as friends.  I want to help out the next person who might not be like me.

And I’m still debating about whether or not to end our time together by screaming and chasing them around the room while I flail my arms.

We’ll see.

 

I See A Therapist

In the summer of 2004 I said to myself, “I need to see a therapist.”  I remember where I was standing and how I felt when I said it.

On September 2nd, 2010, I saw Dr. S for the first time.

It took me over six years to make that first appointment.

What took me so long?  Looking back, I believe the stigma of “seeing a therapist” is what caused the delay.  Forgive my generalization, but I’m a man.  Men believe they can handle things on their own.  We don’t like asking for help because it makes us look weak.  At least that’s our perception.  In reality, asking for help when you need it is one of the strongest things you can do.  Especially if you’ve been driving in the wrong direction for an hour and everybody knows it, but you don’t want to admit it.  Am I right?!  Anyway, for me, I didn’t want anybody to know about the dark feelings bubbling underneath.  Heck, I didn’t want to believe they were there myself!  I wanted to be a good dad and husband and take care of everything on my own.  So, I stuffed it all deep down inside.

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Five Fingers, Ten Toes by Katie Memmel

In January I had the pleasure of traveling to Boston for an event with my friend Tony Memmel.  Due to some unforeseen circumstances (ahem – missed my bus from Madison), I ended-up getting to the airport a little early.  I sat down to eat breakfast and a little while later I noticed Tony and his mom, Katie, sitting at a table on the other side of the food court.  Instead of going over, I just watched.  I know that sounds creepy, but I don’t mean it that way.  I just mean that I watched a mother and her son enjoying their time together.  They smiled, they laughed, they looked comfortable; like two people genuinely enjoying each others company.  Eventually, I did make my way over and we walked toward our gate together.  They hugged, said their “I love you’s” and told each other to be safe.  “There’s all this weird construction around the airport right now; I don’t like that she has to drive in it,” Tony told me.

8355626Having recently finished Katie’s book, Five Fingers, Ten Toes: A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child With a Limb-Difference, the exchange I witnessed between the two of them in January comes as no surprise.  They are quite the pair, those two!  In her book, Katie recounts her journey as a young mother raising a different kind of child.  What I love most about Katie’s story is the honesty with which she tells it.  Her struggles, her fears, her bad reactions, her confusion…all on display.  What is also on display, though, is her growth and her wisdom.  She shares with us her philosophies on parenting and tells us how she did it without making the reader feel like they’re a bad person if they don’t do it the same way.

It was so interesting for me as a limb-different person to read about the experience from her perspective.  To hear about the painful beginnings in the delivery room and to know that my own mother went through much the same experience.  To see the many parallels between Tony and I.  My mom read the book, too, and hasn’t felt able to talk about it with me yet.  “It’s so, so powerful, Ryan,” she told me, “I’ve had to set it down numerous times to just cry and remember.”  She connected so deeply with the joy and the pain that Katie went through and found it overwhelming to know other women went through the same thing.  If you’re a parent, especially a mom, of a limb-different child, you need to read this book.  It will affect you deeply.

Ultimately, though, Five Fingers, Ten Toes is a book for anyone that likes a good story;  Katie’s is rich and she tells it well.  And it’s not only Tony’s inspiring story about overcoming obstacles along the way to becoming an accomplished musician.  It’s a story about a mother and a father, finding their way.  A sister (Hi, Megan!) who was loved by her brother and parents and has her own story to tell.  It’s about a family.  It’s about love and respect and hope.

And I, for one, am I’m so thankful Katie shared it.

You can purchase Katie’s book through Amazon or her website and you can learn more about Tony at his website, TonyMemmel.com.

You Don’t Suck As A Mom

If you’re not a mom, this’ll probably be weird to read.  That said, if you have a mom or you know a mom, you should totally have them read this.

So, here’s the deal: Moms are awesome.

And let’s get this out of the way, too: My wife, mom, step-mom and mother-in-law are the best.

Ok, now let’s get to you.

You’re an awesome mom. I don’t care if you feel like you suck as a mom or not; you’re awesome. Do you yell at your kids sometimes? Do you park yourself on the couch and tell your kids it’s ok to watch Netflix for a couple hours sometimes? Do you wish your kids could spend the year at your parents’ sometimes? Do you read blogs and magazines and think to yourself, “I’M THE WORST MOTHER IN THE WORLD!” sometimes?

Sure. My understanding is that all mothers do this.

Well, except for the ones in the magazines.

I just want to tell you right now that feeling these things doesn’t make you suck as a mom. It makes you human. It makes you a woman who does more for her family than can be adequately quantified. You deal with more crap, literally and figuratively, than most men can comprehend.

Let’s be honest…you probably won’t receive as much recognition as you deserve today. In fact, you’re probably going to have to clean-up after your kids and husband who have made you breakfast. A breakfast you might enjoy half of, by the way. I actually just now asked my wife what she wants for breakfast. I figure it’s better she gets what she wants than me and the kids making a bunch of stuff she won’t like. Magical!

Anyway, that’s why I wanted to tell you you’re awesome. Hopefully your family will do something nice for you. You deserve it. I don’t even know you (probably) and I’m still confident in that fact. You’re doing your best. And even when you feel like you’re not doing your best, you want to be.

And here’s the truth:

You are enough. Will you keep growing and learning and gaining wisdom through experience? Of course. But right now, today, the woman you are is enough. Please take time to appreciate yourself. Take time today to remember what you love about your kids. Be proud of all you’ve accomplished so far and look forward to all that lies ahead. Treat yourself to something that will make you smile.

In the last year and a half I have come into contact with so many amazing mothers because of Living One-Handed. Mothers who share their struggles and successes in regards to raising kids who are different. I see mothers helping each other on a daily basis. It’s incredible. And you know what? None of them think they’re amazing. They’re just moms doing what moms do. Well, I have news for you…

You are amazing.

All of you.

Happy Mother’s day!

My mom on her birthday last month. Doesn't she look fantastic?!

My mom on her birthday, 2013