Nothing extreme happened today, but looking back, it was pretty full of enough emotional highs and lows to leave me pretty exhausted.
High: Spring cleaning the boys’ drawers, and finding a decent stack of Ryder’s old warm-weather clothes for Ev.
Low: Calling Evan into his room to try on Ryder’s old clothes and noticing just how tall he’s getting. It was like a punch in the gut. I love, love, love that they’re getting older but there is a certain amount of mourning that comes with each new season because they’ll never be this little again.
Low: Realizing that even though some of Ryder’s shorts from last year will still fit, he can’t wear them because they have buttons and zippers. Buttons and zippers require a certain amount of dexterity from both hands. He has plenty of sport shorts, but I’d prefer not to send him to church on Easter Sunday in his soccer uniform.
High: Successfully locating elastic-waist shorts that are not only the right size, but also attractive and inexpensive. As an added bonus, I also found awesome pj’s for Evan, and a t-shirt for Ryder that featured Flash playing soccer. His favorite superhero + his favorite sport = awesome.
High: Gymnastics day. I love watching my boys do something they love, and I’m insanely proud of Ryder for never giving up.
Low: Gymnastics day. Watching the other boys easily work their way across the parallel bars or practice their back handsprings serves as a stark reminder of how different Ryder’s life is now. My heart physically aches for him to be able to return to the carefree life he had before “Arm-mageddon” and the ease with which he performed any physical task set before him.
High: Ryder worked hard, over and over again, on his (one-handed) cartwheel. Gymnasts do one-handed cartwheels all the time, but they have the capability of controlling where their free hand goes. Ryder’s just flops around, affecting his balance and timing. But his fifth attempt was definitely stronger than his first, so I’m calling it a win.
Low: Catching the look on Ryder’s face when his coach pulled the climbing rope down for the first time in forever. He used to be able to climb straight to the top, higher and faster than 99% of all the people in the gym. I could live a thousand lifetimes without ever seeing that look again. It took everything I had not to run out there and wrap him up in a bear hug. But just like everything else he’s faced, he took a deep breath, marched right up to that rope, and…
High: CLIMBED! He needed a little help, and he didn’t get too far (relatively speaking). But his coach admitted that he actually did most of the work! He climbed a rope with one hand. This boy of mine… he teaches me things. Low: Evan melted into a pulled of panicked tears at the thought of even touching that rope. See, our otherwise fearless four year old is terrified of heights, and he was NOT going up there.
High: I watched my biggest boy (who had just flown right over yet another hurdle) guide his tearful brother up to the rope and somehow, in that way that only a big brother can, convince him to reach up as high as he could and simply grab ahold. Like a boss.As ready as I am for this nightmare to be over, I realize that this is our life. A crazy, mixed-up, disastrous roller coaster of a masterpiece being used to glorify the very One who created us. We’ll continue to do our part, in prayer and in physical rehabilitation but we know that God’s promises are clear and His plans are best.
So we pray, and cry, and wait, and work, and celebrate when we can. And someday, we’ll be able to look back and say “Remember that year when…”
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord. “They are plans for peace and not disaster, plans to give you a future filled with hope.” (Jeremiah 2:11)