I Pity the Fool

We love to take Lucy to the music in the park in our town.  The talent varies, ranging from symphonic orchestras, to polka bands, to cover music.  The crowd varies too, but a little less than the music - we are usually on the younger end of the spectrum :)  We're considered regulars, I guess, and a lot of the crowd recognizes Lucy, and waves to her as we come and go.

On our way out last week, an elderly gentleman stopped us and asked if he could ask us a question.  We're almost always game, and told him to shoot.  He said, with a smile, "You just always seem so happy..." and trailed off.  I assume the unspoken question was "Why?" or "How?"  Because having a child with Lucy's challenges means that might be a difficult task, if not outright impossible.

(Note: I was not feeling insulted.  At least I don't think I was.  I'm sure he didn't intend it to sound the way it did.  At least I don't think he did.)

Here's the thing: we don't dwell on what could have been, or what we had once hoped for.  We focus on what is.  And what is, is a little girl who does not deserve to have parents feeling sorry for themselves.  We had our whole lives; childhoods full of softball and bike rides, camping and birthday parties.  Teen years rife with troublemaking and first time experiences.  We met each other, fell in love, got married.  Had a kid.  We've had all those years to live for ourselves, make our own memories.  And now, our time is about Lucy.  To make sure she can have her own happy memories.  I'll be damned if I'm going to let self-pity rob her of that.  You just have to make that decision - to be happy with what is.  Truly happy.

I'm happy because Lucy is happy.  Lucy is growing, and is silly, and can experience things in her own way.  And when Lucy is not happy - which happens - I am like any mom with an unhappy kid.  I'm probably disciplining her ;)  It's life.  To me, it's my life, it's the way it is, period.  Regular.  And to wish for anything different, or to lament the situation, is just inviting a miserable existence for not only me, but for my daughter.  And Lucy does not deserve that.  She deserves to have people marvel at how happy she is - how happy WE are.

Lucy baking up a storm with Daddy - she's been in her room for two straight days now, because I am sick and she can't come out into any areas of the house where I've been, and I cannot be near her.

Bedtime of day three - Daddy keeps her occupied well :)  Is she bitter about being stuck in her room?  Or mad that she missed music in the park tonight?  Nope.