So, yesterday I took Joe to the park for the first time to play on the jungle gym. He's two already, but last year he was not walking, and still had the trach in, so playing at the park with its dirt and pollen floating in the air was not high on my priority list.
But this year, he has learned to walk, and climb, and has no trach, so he is basically just a different boy than last year. I watched him climb the stairs, go down the slide, and scale a small incline (30 times!) that must have been like a mountain to him. A couple of times, he fell in the dirt, and ended up with dirty knees. I got a little teary-eyed, because two years ago I wasn't even sure if he would be alive at this point, and if he was, would he just be sitting in a stroller or wheelchair watching everyone else having fun? But no, that has not been his fate. In fact, to look at him yesterday, he was just like all the other kids, if a little tippier than most since he is a recent convert to the walking world.
I used to look at all the other little kids and be so angry and jealous that their moms just got to have fun with their kids, and I had to turn into a nurse for Joe. Well, yesterday I was just like the other moms, and it was sweet. I don't know why he has had to deal with all the pain and surgeries he has had, or why he can't just be "normal" like everyone else. But for a short time yesterday, there were no worries about the tests coming up, or the challenges he will face. It was just a mom, a boy, and a pair of dirty knees.
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