Some Dads Roll

Olivia loves to sing and daily makes up new songs.  A few months ago, while singing to us at the dinner table--she loves a captive audience--she made up a song that started like this: "Some dads walk, some dads roll."  I love that she (like most kids) just accepts what is, without question or comment.  (And, no, I'm not referring to her being denied a popsicle.  There are plenty of question and comments, then!)  She has always accepted that Brigham uses a wheelchair and she's never asked why or seemed to think there's anything weird about it.  She has said things like, "Dad, you don't stand up," and "My dad has wheels," but that's been the extent of her expressing her awareness of Brigham's paralysis.  About six months ago, she drew and cut out the figures below.  I'm the green one.  Brigham is the red one.  You can't tell from the scanned image, but she put a slit between Brigham's legs "so Daddy can walk."  And that was that.  Nothing else was said about it.

A couple weeks ago we were all piled on our bed (including the dog), watching a movie.  When it was over, it was time for Olivia to go to bed.  She wanted Brigham to come into her room and tell her a story.  When I said, "Daddy's already in bed.  He can't get up and walk into your room to tell you a story," she looked at me like I was crazy.  It was as if she had never considered that Brigham can't walk--that he just uses his wheelchair for fun or because he's too lazy to walk.

I'm afraid I may have changed Olivia's innocent acceptance of Brigham's using a wheelchair this week.  Olivia often does not want to hold my hand when we're crossing the street or walking through a parking lot.  I have explained over and over again why she needs to stay right next to me or hold my hand.  We talk about safety a lot, and about how much I love her and that I don't want her to get hurt.  When she's being particularly strong willed, she will run away from me or just stop in the middle of the road.  It scares me.  After a couple close calls within a few days, I completely lost my patience with her.  I said, "Do you know why Daddy can't walk?  He got hit by a car.  Do you want to get hit by a car?"  (I know, not the most loving approach to get her attention for a teaching moment.)  The conversation then went something like this:

Olivia: "Why did Daddy get hit by a car?"

Me: "He was crossing the street and a car hit him because the driver didn't see him."

O: "Who did it?"

M: "Her name is Julie."

O: In horror, "Aunt Julie did it?"

M: "No, honey, Aunt Julie didn't do it.  It was another girl named Julie, and it was an accident."

O: "What color was the car?"

M: "I don't know."

I tried to explain that it was just an accident, and that accidents happen sometimes, but we need to be careful and pay attention and follow the rules.  I didn't want to assign blame to either party, but did want to emphasize the need to be careful.

O: "Cause you don't want me to have a wheelchair, Mom?"

I don't remember how I responded to that, or if I even did, before she started talking again.

O: "Mom, I'm not ready for a wheelchair."

M: "I don't think anyone ever is."

And then we started all over again (until she moved on to another deep topic, which will be the subject of an upcoming post).  Surprisingly, she hasn't brought it up again.  I bet the wheels are turning, though.  Questions will be coming.  Many of you have probably seen this, but here's a link to Brigham's digital story of the accident: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=akVL6mCki6Q