Another Photo Journal

 Pictures that--I think--do not seem like significant things, but mean something significant to me. 

A book in Spanish, a coffee shop, and Leo's stroller and food. It's a defiance of expectations: expectations from my past self and a perceived social norm. My past self thought that speaking to him in Spanish or being out and about with a g tube were not possible. When we learned the extent of his brain damage, I questioned the reality of teaching him Spanish. And, while I wish I spoke it to him much more than I do, it's a sweet opportunity to communicate to him, myself, and others that he is capable of learning even if initially his level of comprehension is questioned. And it reminds me of the greater picture, too. One of the best parts of being Leo's mom is that I get to expect things from him every day. Being immobile and nonverbal his communication or lack thereof can be perceived as a baby's level of comprehension. The truth is his comprehension is there. And I get to expect that of him. It's such a delight and one of the best things I've learned from him. 

Sweet cousins. The way Leo's cousins celebrate him continues to inspire me. They make him laugh, imitate his noises, hold his hand, entertain him, and bring the world to him. They are learning his language without even realizing it. They take him exactly as he is, ask questions, and include him. 

Open hands, painting a picture for Daddy. Severe cerebral palsy can very commonly pull your hands to clenching in a fist the majority of the time. I don't know how Leo's hands will develop and what his muscles will do. But I know that 3 years into life with very significant muscle tone issues, his hands open a lot. He hasn't lost that ability. I love it. I see so much intention when he opens his hands. It's not their natural position. We can tell when he is intentionally grabbing for something or feeling something because his hands will open. Cerebral palsy hasn't taken his open hands from him (yet?) and I'm very grateful for that. 

It's fun to take Leo places he can't go himself. Here we climbed out on some rocks on the coast of Maine. Again, I feel a defiance of expectations. He can still experience a lot. Often, it takes a different kind of intentionality from those around him. I'm here for it. 

I wonder what it's like to see it through his eyes. 

I can do it. I went for a jog like this. Leo ate and almost slept. He also cried and puked some. But I can find ways to make something happen. It can take up a lot of time. That's fine. It makes me more intentional about what I do. It's sweet to experience life with Leo and also allow him to experience life with me, if that makes sense.