Simply love

Our 5 year old has no idea his little brother has a rare genetic condition. He is completely unaware of the term “special needs.” He doesn’t realize that his younger brother is not “typical.” He likely thinks that a stander in the middle of the living room is normal. He may think a high chair is only used for messy play. He probably thinks that gait trainers are how children learn to walk. He understands feeding tubes are for providing nutrition to his little brother and never questions why he doesn’t eat orally.

The other day as we were packing up to see one of our many specialists I heard him say under his breath, “he sure goes to the doctor a lot, I just don’t know why.”

So many thoughts went through my mind. Do I tell him that his brother was born different? Do I tell him that his little brother’s body doesn’t work like his? Do I tell him that his brother is severely developmentally delayed (in 5 year old speak, of course)? I have always told him that the doctors just need to check on his little brother but that’s the extent of our conversations. I have never spelled out his brothers disorder and what goes along with it. As I packed up I kept wondering if he needed more. Does he need to know more?

After all of these thoughts you know what I did?  Nothing.

I smiled at him as I picked up his 3 year old brother from laying on the floor and said “let’s go.”

Our life may not be the norm but it’s our normal. It isn’t abnormal to have a platform swing hanging from our basement ceiling. It is not abnormal to go to private therapy daily. It’s our life to see a number of specialists that I need fingers and toes to count. Our life is ours. Our life is our normal.

Our 5 year old loves and adores his little brother the way he is. He doesn’t see him as a 3 year old who cannot sit, talk, crawl, walk, or clap. He sees him as his little brother who he can make smile and laugh simply by giggling in his face or playing peek-a-boo. He turns the light on in the car at night because he knows his little brother doesn’t like the dark. When his brother’s feeding pump beeps he shouts to me so I know to go check on it. When he hears him cough he yells to me from the other room and asks if I need a towel in case he has thrown up. He is a warrior for him and he doesn’t even realize it.

There will come a day when I will explain more, but for now, I will just let him simply love him.