The Thief Of Joy
Last week, I saw a quote that hit me like a ton of bricks and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.
“Comparison is the thief of joy.”
I realize that the “comparison struggle” is not isolated to any one particular group of people. Everyone that I know deals with it on some level. Comparison is certainly a weakness of mine and social media doesn't make it any easier.
Parents instinctively compare their children to others. I see it every single day. Ellie was a late walker and an even later talker. I remember constantly worrying about why other children her age were reaching developmental milestones more quickly than she. (Side note: if you know Ellie you know she went straight from crawling to running and doesn’t shut up.) I’ve grown to understand that every child sets their own pace, and I moved on.
Then, Mira was born.
Parents of children with special needs face a whole other level of struggle when it comes to comparing their children. Mira’s differences are more significant, her delays, more clear. Often when we’re out in public with Mira, someone will approach us to admire her and ask how old she is.
“She just turned 1."
Next comes the dumbfounded look, which some hide much better than others. They seem to be scrolling through other babies they know in their mind. Usually, I’m too preoccupied to get into it, but there’s always a part of me that wants to defend her.
“She’s SO little, is she even walking yet?”
Oh, Costco sample lady, you are so sweet to take the time to ogle at my baby, but you have NO idea the mine field you are hovering over.
I particularly love when this happens around Evan.
“She was born with Achondroplasia, so yes she’s little, and she will walk when she's ready.” He says this so casually while shoveling a bruschetta sample into his mouth, and then walks away.
We are working on his tact.
Mira's day care is another place where her delays are obvious. I am used to seeing the babies her age surpassing her on major milestones, but we’ve reached a point where babies several months younger than her are developing skills she simply does not have. I worry about the 18-month mark when kids at her school typically transition from the infant to the toddler room. It is the school policy that they need to be strong walkers, so they don’t get run over by the older kids. It is evident that the gap between Mira and her peers will widen significantly at that point.
By now you are beginning to wonder if you should hide me on Facebook or distance yourself from these types of conversations altogether. Please understand that this does not mean that I don’t love seeing your children grow, thrive and want to celebrate their accomplishments right along with you.
As a family, we have learned to embrace the simple, day-to-day moments that Mira continues to surprise us with. Each milestone is met with even more excitement, because we know she has worked longer and harder to achieve it. The mere act of her feeding herself Cheerios last week brought me to tears.
Mira is without a doubt her own person. She is spirited. She is soulful. She is incomparable. The more time we spend celebrating who she is, rather than what she can do, the more joy there is to be had.
Nothing can steal that away from us.
