Funnies

It has really hit me, over the past couple of weeks, that my first baby is growing up. Really growing up. He's 10 now. I'm missing all of the "cute" things he used to do. The mispronounced words. The cute little mixed-up sayings. The weird, quirky things that children 7 and under can get still do and get away with because they're babies. The sweet things, like wanting me to lay with him at night until he falls asleep. Giving hugs when I drop him off at church. Holding hands when we walk to the car.

Even though I still do all these things with Jordan- I still miss doing them with Shaun. He's becoming so independent. Wanting to stay at home by himself. Putting himself to bed. Insisting that he needs a cell-phone because he's able to stay at his various activities by himself. Preferring to spend time with his friends instead of with us. Wanting to make his own decisions and try new things. Fixing his own hair. Choosing his own clothes. Growing up.

Sigh.

I knew it had to happen.

I've noticed something else, during all this growing. My boy is funny. Seriously funny. He loves to laugh. And play jokes. Just like his dad. And his mom too, I suppose. If you know me, you know that I love to laugh. Laughter really is some of life's best medicine. How wonderful that my child is also able to see the funny things in life...even when life itself isn't so pleasant.

Last week, Shaun had his annual checkup at Scottish Rite's Cerebral Palsy Clinic. He hates this visit. Not because the doctors do anything painful or evasive to him. He just resents the fact that he has to go to this appointment in the first place. So, he had a little bit of an attitude. Not too much. Just enough to get on everyone's nerves. I whispered to him that he needed to get over himself and make the best of things, since he had to go through with his appointment.

And he did.

As usual at Children's Healthcare of Atlanta, before you see your child's actual doctor, they send in the resident. The guy in training. Who really doesn't know what he's doing. But we always humor these doctors, reasoning that they have to learn how to practice medicine someplace. So, in comes Dr. Resident. In a mechanical voice, he proceeds to ask Shaun some basic questions: Are you in any pain? How's your leg? Are you having any trouble walking?

I intercede here, because Shaun always pleads the Fifth when asked about his medical condition. I tell Dr. Resident that yes, Shaun's left leg has been bothering him and that his limp has been a little more noticable. Dr. Resident asks Shaun if he can check out his leg. Shaun nods, and Dr. Resident attempts to stretch Shaun's left foot back to check for muscle tightness. I notice a look of concern cross Dr. Resident's face. Almost like the look of panic. He looks at Shaun and comments that his leg is indeed extremely tight and wonders aloud if Shaun is able to walk at all. I give him a funny look and say that yes, Shaun is able to get around quite well. Dr. Resident then tries to stretch Shaun's foot back again. I notice his arms straining at the effort. Then I hear Shaun laugh and say "Wow...you're really strong!"

Dr. Resident looks up and cries "Are you resisting me?"

Hee hee. That child of mine. He played a the funniest trick ever on that doctor. He found an outlet that helped him deal with his feelings. I was overjoyed. Dr. Resident, however, was not amused.

The rest of the appointment was smooth-sailing.

Thank goodness for comic relief!