Regular or Decaff?

With school and more time around a variety of kids, we notice a recurring theme. Typically, it begins with Sidney counting her fingers. Then she places her tiny palms against mine as I instinctively lower my ring and pinkie fingers. Our hands match. Then Sidney lowers her hands and begins counting my fingers. She’s gotten to 10 instead of six. It’s in this moment that she repeats the same words. “I have three. You have five.”  In the last several weeks, she has come to the clear realization her hands are hands are different from her family and people around her. I remember commenting a couple of years ago that we existed in a bubble, meaning she didn’t identify with any differences in her physical makeup. It was a luxury, and I basked in it.

“Mine are different Mommy. Daddy you have big hands.” We reassure her, “God made you perfect for what you need to do. Have you seen mommy’s toes?” She looks perplexed and looks down at my stubby toes. “Mommy those are yucky!” I nod my agreement later coming to the realization I have agreed to the ugliness of my own feet. I explain my feet are perfect for what I need to do. There is nothing she can’t do with three fingers. She was created for what she needs to do.  

But I know the stares, and she is starting to pick up on all of this. Children are forthright in their attitudes, expressions, and vocabulary. Its natural curiosity and I certainly can’t blame them. Honestly, I’d never seen anything like Sidney’s anomalies prior to bringing her home. It’s until I see a sideways glance that I remember there is any difference. Her hands and leg have zero impact on the day to day normalcy of our lives, and its great her mom could give a rats gluteus maximus (I can’t say a** in a family blog) about stares. I meet them with a knowing smile, offering grace. I think about how I might have reacted before bringing Sidney home.

Challenges in life are positive. It’s a blatant reminder of our purpose and God’s will for Tom and I to continue in our pursuit of advocating for the best of her needs. Whether this includes my refusal of any special needs programs or Tom’s response to the question “Where is she from?” And his response “____, Iowa.”  While we advocate and continue to count six fingers across two hands, we continue repeating our mantra. “You only need a ring and pinkie finger to drink tea, holding your pinkie finger in the air.” Good thing we are coffee drinkers.