"What's that, Bubby?" I inquired.
"I just messed up the game," He replied with a tone that said, 'DUH!' I crouched down so I was on eye-level with him and asked what game he had messed up.
"The game. The whole fing. I messeded it up. I was just a baby and I messeded up the whole game and eve'yone was f'ust'ated wiv me."
I still had no idea what he was talking about, but I went with it. I told him it was alright, no one was frustrated. I reminded him that babies are just SO little and they don't understand how games work so I was sure that it was okay if he messed up a game when he was a baby. No one was frustrated with him. He gave me an exasperated sigh and walked away grumbling.
I really do not know what he was talking about, but it did make me think. How often in our benign conversations have my husband and I discussed our frustrations and remembering what a "hard" baby he was? How often have we mentioned that if we knew the next baby wouldn't have the struggles G has that a fourth child wouldn't be such a bad idea? We've never done it with intention of making G feel badly, nor with regret or frustration over having him, nor blaming him for anything, but how often has he listened to us when we haven't realized it? He's always off in his own little world so we tend to take for granted that he's NOT listening to our conversations regardless of the topic. How often have I discussed his struggles from the day he was born with his therapists over the last year, assuming he's distracted with his activities? Have I really conveyed to him the message that he somehow messed things up as a baby? It's been hard, yes, but he did not mess up a single thing. He's just showing us a new way to live- A way where he follows his own path and his own rules, and I am SO thankful to be his Mama who gets to hold his hand-- well, okay, let's be honest, it's more like running as fast as I can down this path to catch him when he needs help. It's hard, but I would not give up this work-out for the world.