When your hands are as crippled as mine you have two choices, hide in shame or put on a smile, and run with it.
Sometimes, all you can do is laugh… even at yourself.
Odin, my child who struggles in group social situations(anxieties), was mad about going to school today. It’s playfort and water day, which means being social with other kids. “We’re not even learning anything, it’s pointless.” he quipped in disgust. I get it, and he’s not wrong, but I still made him go on the one day of school most kids dream of. For the rest of the time getting ready, he refused to smile, even when I plastered his face with kisses.
I was holding my ridiculously deformed hands in the shape of a, well let’s say, I was going for “heart”: “Look Odie, I HEART you!” He glanced over unimpressed. “I heart you Odie, look. Odie look, I heaaaaaaart you! See man, I heart you, Odin!” He refused to look up again, probably afraid he might actually break a smile. “The beauty of this heart, reflects my love for you, because I heart you, man.”
Asa, walking past: “Looks more like a turd, than a heart.”
Me: “Look Odin, I POOPY heart you. It might be stinky, but it’s still love.” He pulled up the collar of his jacket to cover his grin as I followed him out of the house. Odin’s friend had just arrived to walk to school. Never one to waste an opportunity to try an embarrass my child, I yelled one more time… “It might look like poop, Odin, but I promise, I HEART YOU!”
My Tiny Crippled Hands
It was another 2 years before the next surgery on that hand . This left the joint totally corroded, bone on bone. To fuse the bones together meant cleaning up the area which greatly shortened them, thus, this teeny little weird-ass looking finger!
