The “H” Word

While waiting in line to park the car at the game on Saturday, the esteemed parking attendant took one look at smiling, waving, grinning, about to burst with I’m Going to a Real Football Game Excitement Leo and said:

“You should get a handicapped permit. For the kid.”

I know she was just trying to help. I don't think she meant to be rude. But for some reason, that advice? It just hit me right in the gut.

It sounds silly, but I think there’s a small part of me that often thinks people don’t notice Leo has Down syndrome. And really, I’ve had many people even say that if they didn’t know, they wouldn’t have, well, known.

Sometimes I think the Down syndrome is completely obvious. Other times, especially in photographs with other family members, I’m blown away by how much Leo looks like us. The whole adage “more alike than different,” it’s really true. And I see it in other children with Down syndrome too, the faces of their family members, comingling in their faces, along with yes, that "extra."

In other instances, I really see the Down syndrome. I mean, yeah, Leo has Down syndrome. I’m pretty much done with that game I used to play, when at a large gathering with other DS folks, I’d compare (but not really in a "good" way). Does Leo look “more” like he has DS or less? I know, silly. Like it matters. I mean, an extra chromsome is an extra. It’s done.

But the “H” word. Handicapped. I don’t know why it stings like it does. I mean, technically, yes, I guess Leo is handicapped. And like the old Seinfeld saying, there’s nothing wrong with that.

Certain things are harder for Leo. He needs a little extra help. No big deal and it’s just the way it is. It’s just like how I barely passed high school math and to this day know that if pressed there is absolutely no way I could do my own income taxes. And don’t even get me started on trying to put together anything made by IKEA.

I guess it’s just that when I think of Leo, I think of all the things he can do.

Leo can:

-Say the alphabet
-Sight read (what IS sight reading? Don't we all sight read?) I think, 50 words. Some examples: see, ball, horse, car, yellow, pig.
-Breaking News: He can read a sentence! "I see a yellow horse." I just discovered this tonight. I almost cried! My boy!
-Write his name (first and last)
-Count to 20
-Torture his little sister in innumerable ways
-Drive his moms batty
-Turn on the television and put it in a DVD All. By. Himself.
-Go into the refrigerator and choose what he would like to eat. A recent meal request was: grapes, orange soda and eggs. Don’t ask.
-Put on several paris of pants at once. This morning he woke up early and put on not one, but two pair of swim trunks, then proceeded to put his pajamas back on, over the swim trunks. When I asked him if he was having a fashion crisis, he answered “Yea.”
-Be very afraid of thunder, lightening and the dark. I think it takes real intelligence to be afraid.
-Be extremely patient. Sometimes I don’t understand what he’s saying and he will calmly repeat over and over the word until his slow Mommy understands him.
-Be extremely impatient. When he wants grapes or Dora, he wants them NOW!
-Water the garden. He loves anything involving a hose.
-Help out around the house. He loves to take out the trash, throw garbage away, set the table.
-Get really, really aggravated with the amount of pictures I try to take of him. Case in point:

-And the list goes on and on.

And that just doesn’t sound all that handicapped to me.

Will we get a parking sticker? I don't think so. I think it would be more fair to save those for the people who really need it. Leo loves to walk. He also loves to run. Quickly and away from me.

But that’s a whole other post.