I love that he LOVES Mickey Mouse.
I love that he has a favorite Blanket.
I love that he chews on the arms of Leo, Mickey and Barney.
I love that he says "I love you" in his own special way.
I love that he gives awesome kisses.
I love that he will only let me do certain things.
I love that he throws rocks any time he can.
I love that he LOVES his dad.
I love that he is learning to talk.
I love that he always wants to "help" do things that aren't "fun."
I love that he tries SO hard to do so many things.
I love that he gets up when he falls.
I love that he is strong.
I love that he has gone through SO much and yet he is still the sweetest thing in the entire
But what I don't love.
I don't love Cerebral Palsy.
I hate that things are hard for him.
Days like today, when therapy is nothing but a scream fest and and that he tries to throw up to get out of doing what is hard.
I hate that they are hard.
Running, jumping and playing shouldn't ever be something a child can't do.
I hate that he can't ride a bike.
I hate that even some of his "family" won't take him and love him because he is "different."
I hate that there is something in his daily life that is effected by Cerebral Palsy.
I hate that as a mother I "MIGHT" be missing something that could "fix" something. Or try something. Or afford all the types of therapy that "could" help.
I hate that I still feel guilty about not being able to carry him to term.
I hate that he doesn't know what a bird looks like in his back yard because of his disability.
I hate that I have to sit by Day after day after day and see him have to get up time and time again because his cerebral palsy makes him fall.
I hate to sit by and watch that it is hard for him.
I hate Cerebral Palsy