Browsing "Child with Disability"

A Different POV

 

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I recently had an epiphany, one that came after speaking with a wise and experienced counsellor.  My ‘ah ha’ moment unfortunately came as a result of a small but challenging experience I had with Poppet.

After spending a great deal of time trying to find a carpark along with hundreds of other Christmas shoppers, we finally parked the car.  By this stage my tension levels were soaring, and my patience, rational thinking and reason had abandoned me.

Poppet and I each had things to carry as we left the car.  I had the shopping list, shopping bags, my phone and credit card.  Poppet having forgotten her water bottle, had mine to use.  We now had the challenge of negotiating the carpark to find the entrance to the shopping centre.

This is one skill that Poppet has yet to master and without supervision, is oblivious to the dangers of walking in a confined space, with cars travelling at speed, their drivers paying more attention to vacant carparks than pedestrians.

As we stood waiting for a break in the traffic, Poppet dropped my water bottle.  The lid, straw, bottle and its contents cast upon the grease-stained asphalt.  Poppet stood there looking at the mess before her.  She.  Just.  Stood.  There.

With eyes on the traffic and eyes on Poppet I followed the trajectory of the pieces of coloured plastic.  Poppet hadn’t moved while my partner stooped to pick up the pieces.

While it was an accident, I couldn’t help but think ‘What are you waiting for?’  ‘Why can’t you just pick up the bottle?’  ‘Don’t be so lazy.’  ‘Why do you always expect us to pick up after you?’

Way down deep inside however, a smaller, sadder voice was making itself heard.  ‘Why aren’t you capable of functioning right now?’ it asked.

I stood there trying to conceal my feelings of frustration, hoping my daughter wouldn’t sense my disappointment or my grief.  I judged her, and it pains me to admit this.  I saw her as inadequate and it pains me to say this.

My wise counsel taught me to notice my thoughts and give them room.  While this is easier said than done, I realise that when I open my mind, I become free to see alternative perspectives.

Had I stopped and opened my mind on this occasion, I could have viewed the incident from Poppet’s perspective;  I could have seen how surprised she was, how embarrassed she was and how paralysed she was to do anything about it and I could have helped her in that moment with her own feelings.

Thoughts are neither good nor bad, they are just thoughts but sometimes they can cloud your ability to see a different point of view.

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