Making merry DOES NOT require motor skill development.

We are three days before Christmas and amidst my sweet little social media community of special needs mamas, there is stress, and worry, and a pervasive sadness that I understand all too well.

And as I have read the posts this week, I have felt an overwhelming need to hug friends that I only know virtually -- but I KNOW them nonetheless.

I know for instance, that standing in a toy store can trigger a wave of grief that is hard to explain. Wade and I used to visit the toy store and just stand in aisles staring at toys that we feared would frustrate our boys more than delight them. We wrestled each year looking for toys that would not just be FUN but would also facilitate motor skill development. Because when you have Cerebral Palsy play can rarely just be play....

I know for instance what it is to buy toys that force my boys to sit up to play, toys that force them to use their hands, toys that encourage them to stand and play. 

I know that sometimes we buy toys that are age-appropriate even though they aren't really appropriate. The year Santa brought tricycles was particularly hard. Claire was more than ready and the physical therapist had said they would love to work with Mason on pedaling. We knew Benjamin might never be able to learn to pedal but Santa found a beautiful tricycle with a supportive seat and after Dad tightened the handle bars down as tight as possible so they didn't move AT ALL, Benjamin could sit on that tricycle and talk to his siblings as they went round and round him on the patio.

Christmas morning watching the parade from their trikes!
(We had to wait for the Minnesota snow to melt to take the trikes outside!)

I know for instance that sometimes our children want toys that just don't work for them. We have bought video games and taken apart joysticks and reassembled them in an effort to allow Benjamin to play. We have bought video games and wept because the movements required were simply not movements he could do. Even with the adapted joystick.

I know what it means to buy snow boots that never touched snow -- even in Minnesota. 

And I know what it is to fight to make memories that outweigh and overwhelm any sadness or grief.

The Shraders holding bunny rabbits on the wagon ride to pick the perfect Christmas tree !

And so this is what I want my special mamas to know:

My babies are adults today. 20 years old. They spent some time around the island in our kitchen this week talking about Christmases-past, and guess what? Never once did they mention a toy they couldn't work or a memory that was sad because of their Cerebral palsy.  They didn't dwell on a list of "toys of the year" that they didn't receive because they weren't appropriately designed for boys who struggled with motor skills. Nor did they mention the myriad of "therapeutic" toys they DID receive because...well, because they never knew that Tarzan playhouse was to encourage Benjamin to sit up and use his hands to manipulate the pieces. Or that the Dress-Up items had buttons and zippers that little hands needed practice on. 

They just didn't know.

Oh please hear me, the memories my crew were discussing were joy-filled and magical. They loved our traditions and only gave me the smallest bit of a hard time over dragging the walker, the power sticks, three preschoolers, two adults, a camera, a tripod for camera, and a saw to the middle of the Christmas tree farm in sub-arctic temps for that perfect tree!!

I am here begging you to find your merry. Don't be rigid in traditions that wear you out -- we ultimately chose to ride the wagon around the tree-farm but to buy our tree in the pre-cut lot because the memory-making part was about holding bunnies as we rode the wagon NOT about the actual cutting-down of the tree. And guess what, that is ok.

Feel the hard. I know it is real. But also, find the joy. Because I know you know that it is real too.

I'm loving you from over here!