Wow. We’re here.
Today Timothy turns Three.
The number that has given me so many different emotions over the past few months has arrived.
Three feels like a big one for me. It feels scary. Three is the end of babyhood and the beginning of childhood. I mean can you believe Timothy will be attending school in 6 short months?!
He will be leaving the safe and secure bubble of home. I won’t be able to protect him from every stare, every comment, every question. I won’t be able to keep him in the little world I’ve created around him. I wonder all the time what this year will mean for him.
Three seems to make our delays and differences feel more real. At two you are still sort of a baby and that made it easier to accept being behind but at three it feels different. I worry what it will feel like for him to be in a room of his peers, will he know he is different? Have I given him enough love and confidence in himself to not care that he is?
To me, he is the amazing loving little boy I know because of his differences. I wonder if his teachers will see that. If the other parents will see it. If he will make friends that see it.
Everyone has told me how good it will be for the other kids to have Timothy in their classroom to learn about inclusion. And it will be. But I don’t want my son to just be a lesson in inclusion, I want him to be a kid someone likes to sit by, I want him to be a kid someone asks to play with, I want him to just be a kid.
I think too often when people see a kid with a disability they see a “disabled kid” and nothing else. But I don’t want that for Timothy (or anyone). The word disability isn’t a bad word and it should be said but it is only a part of a person it is not their entire identity. Timothy is a kid with a disability. He is Timothy first. He is a kid first. Timothy is a kid who loves to sing, to jump, to swing, to go outside. He is a kid who loves chocolate and who throws temper tantrums when he doesn’t get his way. For the past three years I’ve been able to make sure he could be a kid first and now I have to hope that the rest of his world can do the same.
So three feels like a big one for me. It feels scary. Because three is the beginning of childhood. And I’m not ready to trust the world with my baby just yet.
Three years of loving you, my bright smiley boy. Happy Birthday Teeny Beans.
Happiness Is Blind 