If my rudimentary bookkeeping is correct, out of 26 at bats this season (not including one game I forgot to record), Sarah Kate has only struck out six times. She’s the next-to-smallest girl on the team, and she’s never played any sport before, unless you count throwing the ball with Mr. Bill in adaptive P.E. and two Super Special Soccer Saturdays for kids with special needs. And of course there’s that whole disability thing. She’s also credited with a number of RBIs and three runs.
Amazing.
On Saturday, Sarah Kate’s team played in a local tournament. It ended up being much larger than we had anticipated – so many teams signed up that they split the tournament into two parks and extended it from one to two days. Had I known in advance how involved it was going to be, I wouldn’t have signed her up, but once committed, we saw it through.
During the first game, Sarah Kate got a base hit, but tripped over the bag. She wasn’t seriously injured, but even a minor injury throws her already precarious balance completely off. Initially, she couldn’t stand up, so one coach sent a girl in to pinch run for her while the other helped her off the field. After a few minutes of rest and a little Momma Massage, she was back out there.
The Sky Rockets won.
During game three, the opposing team cheered for Sarah Kate when she batted. I don’t know where they were from, but they weren’t one of the Mayberry teams that “know” Sarah Kate. They just saw a girl that inspired them (or maybe they just wanted to be encouraging?), and they looked past the fact that she was the opposition. But she cried, because she struck out twice, and per her words, she “wasn’t doing good.”
The Sky Rockets won again.
During game four, Sarah Kate got another base hit and tripped over the bag a second time. Again, she had trouble standing, and a pinch runner was brought in. By that point, she had played softball for five hours out of the previous 24 (counting her regular game on Friday night) and her early morning pep and vigor were gone. Another girl on the team had an emotional meltdown and spent much of the game sitting with her family in the stands.
But the Sky Rockets won again.
Following game four, a spectator for the other team came up to me and asked if Sarah Kate was my daughter. When I said yes, he boldly declared, “She is the bravest kid I ever saw” and gushed for several minutes about how wonderful he thought she was. I beamed with pride.
Brave. That’s my girl.
The Sky Rockets were knocked out in the fifth (and final) game of the day, which ended at 6pm. They had lost a player, adding another in a different-colored uniform from the team they’d beaten in game four. It pained me to watch Sarah Kate walking to and from the dugout to her position in right field – her exhaustion by that time was such that she needed her coach to hold her hand.
On the way to the car after the game, a family walking behind us called out, “Hey, number 7!” Sarah Kate turned to see what they wanted, and found that what they wanted was to gush over her performance, and to tell her how inspired they were by her. I beamed some more, and we chatted with them until we got in our car. Once we drove away from the ballpark, she asked me, “Why did those people that don’t know me want to talk to me about how I played?”
It dawned on me at that moment that it had never occurred to her that people don’t say things like to all of the other girls.
She most likely didn’t know why the man earlier in the afternoon thought she was brave. She may not have even noticed that the opposing team’s fans in game three were cheering for her. I explained to her that people say those things because they are impressed by how hard she tries, and that they are inspired by her.
I’ve talked on this blog before about how I hate to be put on a pedestal, or to be told that I’m special because of my approach to motherhood. I believe I’m an ordinary mom who just happens to have extraordinary kids. So often, I think of Sarah Kate as “taking things in stride;” I believe that she’s unaffected by the admiration she receives for overcoming her challenges. The truth, though, is that she’s unaffected by it because she’s unaware of it. She knows she has this Thing that makes her a little different from other kids, but she doesn’t feel different. She feels ordinary – just like I do.
And I love it.
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If you’re a mom blogger of a child with cerebral palsy – or even if you’re not, but want to learn more about living with CP – you must visit Sarah’s blog, Stand Tall Through Everything. As much as I try to relate, understand, and advocate for Sarah Kate, I’m not her. I’m not living her life, and I’m not viewing life through the same lens that she is. Sarah’s blog gives me a glimpse into my daughter’s experiences and future.
“The truth, though, is that she’s unaffected by it because she’s unaware of it. She knows she has this Thing that makes her a little different from other kids, but she doesn’t feel different. She feels ordinary – just like I do.”
My mission is accomplished again. I love it.
(Thanks for the free PR by the way)
I think it is great that she is unaware of the feelings of others. That just goes to prove that the way you are raising her is the same as any other child. I think it is a wonderful affirmation of your parenting style. Go Sarah Kate!
Sarah Kate is confident in who she is because you have always told her. She perseveres because you & Mr A expect her to push onward like any good parent would, and you never let CP define who she is. You may think you’re just a mom, but God knew that you would nurture SK & help her to soar! You are an amazing mom Andi, don’t ever think otherwise.
I love her outlook and I LOVE how this softball season is turning out. She is brave, and one day she’ll understand why people say that, even if she thinks it’s all big to-do over nothing (to her). She’s a reflection of your parenting. And just like she may not think she’s extraordinary, you feel the same about yourself, despite many of us telling you otherwise. Apple doesn’t fall too far, huh mom?
<3
Because she doesn’t think she is different and because she is brought up in such a loving and caring environment. Well done Sarah Kate
Tears again! Everyone who has commented is right. That little acorn didn’t fall far from the tree!!
I too feel ordinary when people gush over the things I do I don’t let it go to my head because at the end of the day I know I’m not that different from anybody else.
I love this post and I recognize myself in Sarah Kate’s unawareness – not just as a pretty little kid, but until I was pretty old actually. It’s what all kids should feel.
Anyway, speaking of feeling ordinary, have you heard about the book ‘Wonder’ by R.J. Palacio? It’s a children’s book (age 10+ I’d say) about a boy with a facial disfigurement that starts in fifth grade after being homeschooled. The book follows his first year in school, and how he adjusts and how everyone reacts to him.
I was thinking maybe it would be a read for Sarah Kate, and for you, or maybe for you together. The main ‘message’ in the book is just what you describe; this boy knows he’s different – to everyone else. To himself, he’s just ordinary, like any other kid. You can read more about the book here: http://rjpalacio.com/book.html and read an excerpt on the book’s facebook page.
Happy reading if you decide it’s something for you both!
Thanks for the suggestion! Sarah Kate reads on a slightly higher level than a third grader so it may be a good choice for her. After visiting the site you provided, I’m intrigued (LOVE the cover!) and will be buying it soon. I’m happy that it’s available on Kindle – Sarah Kate loves her Kindle!