The Unique Beauty in Him

This morning we were running late.

I couldn’t get Sawyer out of bed. Harbor needed to be fed. And Cooper had somehow found a pile of hidden construction paper in the pantry and was spreading it all over the floor.

He wanted me to draw him trains. That’s his new thing.

He finds pictures of trains in magazines and has people draw them for him.

While yes, it is adorable most of the time, it’s not quite so cute when you are running late for school.

He will stand in front of me, smiling, yelling, and trying to persuade me to draw for him.

He will take a crayon, or a pen, or whatever writing utensil he can find and shove it in my face.

Over and over again.

This is how he tells me that he wants me to draw for him. By putting a pen in my eye.

Sometimes it’s adorable. Sometimes, it’s exhausting.

It was a busy morning as usual.

Dogs needed to be let out and fed.

Our Christmas Elf Buddy needed to be found.

And on top of all that, we had Sawyer’s Christmas concert to attend at 9:30.

So this meant, getting Sawyer dressed in ‘big boy’ clothes. Which means…pants. Which means negotiating.

I swear that kid is either going to be a lawyer or a hostage negotiator. He has skills far beyond me.

It also meant spiking his hair. Because he wants to be like the cool kids.

He argued with me about pretty much all of his outfit. But did request a tie.

The finished product turned out pretty dang cute though. And he was so excited for his concert. He had five songs to sing. We were going to make a craft after. He was giddy with excitement.

By the time I finally sat down to dress Cooper I had under ten minutes to get him out the door. And nothing with Cooper is fast.

As soon as I called him over he broke out into a dance. A really silly one. He was smiling and shaking his butt and flapping his arms all to The Daddy Finger Song.

As the song sped up he really got into it. Twirling and giggling.

He immediately grabbed my arms trying to persuade me to dance with him.

But I didn’t have time.

Not today.

As I wrestled him out of his shirt and leggings, he started patting his stomach.

This means he wanted stomach kisses. He likes when I blow big, juicy raspberries on his belly. The louder the better.

He laughs and laughs and laughs.

Every morning he needs at least five of them.

Then he wanted to show me his favorite train.

Which happens to be the hundredth train I’d looked at this morning. Coops and I were up at 5 AM learning the history of the Great American Railway.

I managed to get him into his shirt. I even convinced him to do it himself.

Socks were next. Which means lots of feet tickles. And more giggles. He even requested a quick, ‘this little piggie.’

Then we had to clean his bottom. Just like we do every day. Like we will probably have to do for years to come.

He always smiles after Jamie or I clean him up. It’s pretty sweet. Sometimes, when I am not quite so rushed, I think about the future. About what this will be like when he is 20. But I didn’t have time today.

I was running late

Pants were next. Always leggings. Always convincing him to pull them up himself. So he can learn.

And then, he stopped me. Just like that.

He’d had enough of my rushing.

He grabbed my face with both hands.

He climbed onto my lap, wrapped his legs around my waist and looked right into my eyes.

And he leaned in for a squeeze.

He needed me to stop being so serious. He needed me to be his happy mommy. The one who dances and tickles and laughs at every train he shows me.

I was immediately overwhelmed by the beauty of this little boy. This huge, not so little, growing up boy.

It was just a second and he was off. Back to dancing. And smiling.

I just sat there for a minute, just staring at him. Studying him.

Where did my baby go? He’s so big now. Growing up. Yet still, in so many ways, so little.

He is so simple. So sweet. So uniquely himself.

So many parts of Cooper are still so much like a little boy. He gives so much love to me. And wants the same in return.

He’s never been mad at me. Or yelled that he hates me.

He’s never even given me a dirty look.

He’s overjoyed when he gets tickled. And happy as can be when he gets a raspberry blown on his tummy.

To him, a hug and a kiss is a huge deal.

When I find myself sad over all the things that we are missing out on…I remind myself of this unique beauty.

I may have this forever. And there is something special in that too.

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Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook and subscribe to our newsletter.