Oftentimes, people who don’t Max that well—coworkers, neighbors, acquaintances—ask questions about him. I’ve mastered the art of the succinct, upbeat response. Here’s how it usually goes:
They say: “How is Max doing?”
I say: “Well! He’s really coming along.”
What I really mean: He amazes us each and every single day because he’s doing so much better that those God-awful, naysaying doctors at the hospital ever thought he would. He still has a lot of challenges, though. Did you know he has cerebral palsy? But he is making progress. It may not be leaps-and-bounds progress but it’s steady, and that’s all that matters.
They say: “Is he talking yet?”
I say: “He has some words! He’s making progress.”
What I really mean: He has some words and he’s trying his best. But I dislike it when you use the word “yet.” There is no race to the finish line—he is never going to talk the way you or I do. But he is talking and communicating in his own way, and that’s pretty amazing.
They say: “He is such a happy child!”
I say: “Thanks! He is!”
What I really mean: He’s basically cheerful but like any kid, he gets frustrated at times. Kids with disabilities have multidimensional personalities, too.
They say: “Life must be a little stressful for you and your husband.”
I say: “We balance each other out.”
What I really mean: Um, duh? Of course having a kid with disabilities puts added tension on a marriage. We’re doing the best we can, some days, better than others. And how are you and your husband doing?
They say: “Max is so handsome.”
I say: “Yes, he is! Thank you.”
What I really mean: “Yes, he is! Thank you.”
Ellen blogs daily over at To The Max.