Thinks to think

I was walking along with a friend earlier this evening, pushing Q's chair, which happened to be empty at the time. A female voice said from behind, "You don't know how lucky you are, young lady in pink. [me]" I turned and smiled. "Years ago all we had was a tiny rig with wheels this big," she holds up her hands to show a diameter of about three inches. "Just little and flimsy. There wasn't anything like this," and she motions toward Q's stroller chair as she passed us by. "You're lucky." I'd already been grinning, as had my friend, so we both laughed and agreed as she sped on toward her destination.

There was a moment, as she passed and seemed to notice the buckles on the foot plates and the "interesting" head rest and belts, when she appeared to startle just a hair.

As she strode on, I said to my friend, under my breath, "Who's lucky?"

Yeah.

Sometimes I catch someone looking curiously at our nifty transportation contraption and I wonder what they're thinking. I usually smile and they smile back, somewhat self-consciously. The ladies at Costco were kind with Q today, telling him how cute he was, talking to him 'til he giggled and then they giggled, a predictable sequence, but one which never fails to satisfy. When loading his stroller/chair into the back of the van, with consideration for diapers and groceries, I found myself wondering again for the hundredth time what people think when they see us all out and about, kids and equipment, a disabled, sugar-sweet toddler... And the stroller/chair being lifted in and out of the back of the van with a permanent handicapped parking tag hanging from the mirror... Perhaps most people don't notice, really.

At an airport, I was rearranging and packing stuff into the back of a van after a particularly arduous day of travel and Q had begun to fuss when a nearby driver rolled down her window and said, "I've been watching you. God bless you for all you do." I'm pretty sure I blushed, but managed to say thank you. She returned, "No really, this is hard work. God bless you." I got all weepy. It happens more and more the less sleep I get and the kinder people are. Sniff.

I approached the driver of a Dodge Sprinter today. G and I have been eyeing it over the space of a few months now. It parks in the handicapped section at the therapy place and has the coolest rear lift. We've been speculating about how much it would cost, how effective it would be for our family, whether or not we'd like it, or if it gets as good mpg as they claim. I'd personally prefer to place my punkins in a zip drive and transport us all in a glossy ultramarine Porsche, but alas, one mayn't zip and unzip children, as such. Dear me.

Turns out, depending on the condition of the vehicle, the Porsche plan could be less expensive. $62,000 it was, purchased with 6,000 miles on it. It will hold up to two wheelchairs and with the other seats put in, up to eight ambulatory passengers. Apparently, the young lady who is transported in the vehicle by a paid nurse/caregiver had it paid for out of an administered guardianship? Moan. I have much to learn.

We're having a crazy busy week. Campmeeting is on so we're trekking out at least daily for that, plus appointments here there and everywhere. The meetings have been just awesome. (They aren't always.) A really good, really humble guy, talking to the grown-ups about grace and kindness (two of my favorite topics these days) while the littles have lots of singing and stories and crafts. The vision teacher visited yesterday, Speech and two OT appointments today, piano, PT and community health nurses come out tomorrow. (We're squeezing in School: Lite, too.) First thing Thursday, G gets his lower braces on. Then we're off to a family reunion with a fresh recounting of exactly what the Bolsheviks did and how one ancestor's life was spared while all his comrades perished as they fled the coming revolution and the service they'd been so unwillingly pressed into at the behest of Catherine. The kids are big enough to get it and it's being presented by the family anthropologist/historian for the first time in more than twenty-five years. Then there's a birthday and some partying to do. It's going to be a blast and completely exhausting. Yee-haw.

Stay Strong is playing as I type. "We've come too far to lose our way..." Right on.

You're in the moment now
A bitter root
A wandering eye and then
The ties that bind start wearing thin, thin

You're in the moment now
When all you've been blessed with
Is not enough
Here's where the ground gets loose
Here's where the devils call your bluff

Stay strong
You are not lost
Come on and fix your eyes ahead
There's a new dawn to light our day, our day
You've gotta stay strong
You and I run
For the prize that lies ahead
We've come too far to lose our way, our way

We've seen the tragic flaws
The tortured souls
The saints with feet of clay
Here's where sin becomes cliche'

We've come through wilderness and watched
The cloud by day
The burning sky into dawn
Have you forgotten who you are?
Did you forget whose trip you're on?

Stay strong
You are not lost
Come on and fix your eyes ahead
There's a new dawn to light our day, our day
We've gotta stay strong
You and I run
For the prize that lies ahead
We've come too far to lose our way, our way

Get up, there's further to go
Get up, there's more to be done
Get up, this witness is sure
Get up, this race can be won
This race can be won

We've gotta stay strong
You are not lost
Come on and fix your eyes ahead
Our Father's dawn will light our day, our day
Come on and stay strong
His grip is sure
And His patience still endures
There'll be no letting go today, no way

Come on, and stay strong
You and I run
For the prize that lies ahead
We've come too far to lose our way, our way


Yeah, baby. Yeah.

Q's out before 2:30am for the first time in recent (functional) memory, so I'm heading off too.

Give your honey extra spoons and snuggles, have a nice cup of something warm (or cold) and revel in the moments you have with your beloveds as you watch your punkins grow too fast.

Mwaaa.