Elijah received an electric chair last week. Technically, it is an awesome power wheelchair designed for a 2 year old. David says I cannot call it an electric chair for obvious reasons. But, I love to make David laugh and since EVERY time I refer to the thing as Elijah's electric chair, David cracks up...it is officially the electric chair.
Imagine a seat small enough for Elijah with a little room to grow sitting on top of a large box for a battery and four wheels. That's Elijah's electric chair. As I type this I wonder why I don't just go down stairs and take a picture of the thing...I'll do that soon.
The electric chair needs some adjustments, which Elijah's physical therapist is coordinating. Soon, the tiny joystick will be situated in Elijah's lap and he will be taught to make the chair go where he wants. I cannot wait for him to get the hang of it.
David and I made the unofficial decision that the electric chair will be for the house only. The thing weighs 150 pounds and we definitely do not have an "electric chair friendly" vehicle...or house for that matter. I anticipate we will be in for some structural changes eventually, but for now, he will learn the great art of "going" around our home. I just know he is going to love it.
Elijah is doing great. He claps any time I say "yay" and he now makes a smooch with his lips when we blow kisses to him. SO CUTE PEOPLE. I know David will post a video soon.
Elijah continues to laugh and make all of us smile. Sophia is proud of Elijah's power chair. She told me that she wished she could have one too. I told her I was so happy she didn't need one. She asked why. I just changed the subject. I am sure some therapist out there could give me better guidance on how to deal with the 6-year-old sister of an extraordinary kid like Elijah, but for now I follow my instincts. My instincts say that I don't elaborate on Elijah's limitations. I focus on his accomplishments not only with Sophia, but also in my own head and heart. Elijah's accomplishments mean so much more than those of ordinary kids. I'd give anything for ordinary, but since I got extraordinary I'm celebrating the clapping hands, smooching, weight gain, sitting up, rolling over, hearing and every single giggle. Today, you should celebrate your ordinary...however extraordinary it may be.
P.S. Please keep praying for my cousin Stacie, her husband Jeff and their two kids Gavin and Garrett as Gavin fights brain cancer for his life.