Yes, I know this is where I’m supposed to write about writing and editing and stuff like that, but… if you haven’t noticed, I’m including a lot more life stuff. Trying to remember what goes on which blog is starting to make me crazy (er, crazi-er).

Anyway, I was over at Michele Lee’s blog this morning. I’ve been given a spark of inspiration from her post, as a supporting post, perhaps. See, Michele’s son is autistic. My oldest has cerebral palsy. Our children have disabilities, which they tackle head on and with grace.

(And Michele also knows what IEP means, which means I go YAY ‘cuz she has been there, done that, too)

She ran across some news, which she posted her thoughts about here:
Click here for reality

This is pretty much the only tidbit I found that was brief:
Click here for wtf? moment

Read behind the cut if you want to see my thoughts on the matter. Beware, I’m VERY opinionated when it comes to disabilities and learned behaviours.

Most of you regular readers know this, but for those that stumbled in here and don’t: Rhia was born two months early, and died twice within her first 24 hours of life. There was brain damage, and at 18 months she was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy. For her, this effects both levels of motor function, various physical abilities (now including spinal curvature), some learning disabilities, and a tinge into the psychological as well.

At her diagnosis, the doctor told me with a lot of assistance and both invasive and non-invasive procedures and equipment, she could life a somewhat normal life. When she started showing signs of progressing faster than expected, we (my now-ex and I) took the ball and ran with it. Then we made her follow us if she wanted it back, so to speak.

Care (my youngest daemon) walked at 10.5-ish months old. Rhia was nearly 2 at the time. By her second birthday, Rhia was taking her own stumbly, tip-toe steps. We didn’t give her any more or less physical or emotional support in learning to walk than we did Care, it was just a longer process for Rhia – and frankly, I still think she didn’t want ‘her baby’ doing something she couldn’t.

I’ve held on to that. Rhia gets some special concessions at school, and yes, even when she plays league baseball (she’s offered a runner from first, and the coaches don’t care if she says yes or no, so long as she’s HAPPY playing the game). She is expected to do just as much homework, chores, reading, and studying as Care is, and often does more.

While her gait is strained and a bit like a drunken sailor, she walks without walker, canes or braces. I do feel that a lot of her confidence to do so came from our original stance of letting her do it, letting her try, letting her excel before giving her the extra advantages.

Life. She takes it as it is, disabilities and mountains and all, and conquers it. Not by asking for preferential treatment, but by checking it out first, testing the waters and LEARNING THE LESSONS it gives.

Does that mean taking the thrashing during a baseball or volleyball or curling game? Yes. She learns how to play better, how to be a good loser (ha, she still struggles with the losing, but she TRIES at least), how to be a TEAM PLAYER.

People like those whiners re: the Texas HS volleyball hoo-ha are why people like HWSNBN think it’s okay to blame their life mistakes and extremely bad behaviour on their disabilities. Think about it. It always starts small (like the winning team forfeiting their legitimate win) and eventually grows into – I didn’t try because I have a *fill in the blank*. I did this because I have a *fill in the blank*. I took a gun/knife/bomb/zombie and shot/stabbed/blew up/ate fifty people because I have a *fill in the blank*.

You know what? Rhia can hit the ball. She sees it coming, knows to swing the bat, and more often than not will run like hell around the bases. Rhia can spike the ball in volleyball, and she can serve a wicked volley, too. Oh hell, yeah, she’s bawled her eyes out and throat sore when her teams lose (particularly when someone on the other team calls her a retarded cripple) but she wipes her face, finds and fixes the errors, supports her teams and goes out again the next game.

It’s called Life. Life is for learning, growing and becoming better.

Has anyone thought that maybe those girls on the losing team are proud that they went out there and played, even if they did lose? Has anyone given them a ‘Congratulations, great try, keep practicing, keep trying’ speech? I bet those girls are damn proud of themselves for trying, and they should be.

PS, the first year Rhia played ball, her team lost every game. Some of those games were absolute skunkers – no runs for her team. The next year they won half, and the year after that, all but one. Think about it.