Turning 5 brings on a world of new experiences, accomplishments and challenges. The expectations climb higher as does the ability to handle them. Chores. Rules. Self care. School work. And so it begins. We've entered the new stage of childhood.
Ryan sent off his final few months of his 4th year with a fun filled Summer. Here are a few things he enjoyed:
4th of July Block Party!
Mid-party FUN!
Who's more excited?
First Day of Pre-K for Ryan!
And Ellie's first day of Preschool!
Ryan's AMAZING teacher made him a stool so that he could reach the sink ALL by himself!
He LOVES it!
Ryan's "Captain A-Bearica"
Road Trip!
Heading to our LPA buddy's cabin!
First trip to Costco!
(Yes, they are excited!)
Ever since Ryan was diagnosed I dreaded this moment. I feared it. Will he cry? Will he hate himself? Will he be angry? Will he have confidence? Will he still want friends? Will they want him? But the questions and worry faded as we gained understanding of Ryan's condition and as we got to know our sweet adorable son. We lived one day at a time and enjoyed every second. But the "Big Little Moment" lurked. And it has done so for five years. For Ryan, turning five isn't just about getting older. It's not even about growing up. Or starting Kindergarten. It's about self acceptance. At five, he is old enough to understand that he has dwarfism. That he will be little for his entire life. He's tasked to grasp his difference AND stand proud. This is a huge task for a five year old.
The "Big Little Moment" can be a punch in the gut. It can knock the wind out of a kid. Shocking them senseless and ending the world as they know it. I've feared this effect more than anything. Sure, the thought of bullies makes my blood boil. And I'm saddened knowing that he has to endure countless physical, social and emotional challenges. But none of that has to matter. What matters is Ryan. Because as long as he loves himself and has confidence, the bullies and hurdles in life are meaningless.
Before Ryan could even hold his head up, I spoke to him about his size. And I haven't stopped talking since. Just ask Ryan. I'm guilty of talking so much that he's constantly asking me if I'm done so that he can go back to playing. I point out other people's differences and we talk about how that makes them great. I'm discussing the fact that he has a lot in common with his classmates and that being smaller doesn't change that fact. We watch little people tv shows and applaud their achievements. As soon as he was able to grasp a simple concept, Ryan was introduced to our family phrase "Little Big". It's a simple way to remind Ryan that little people can do big things. It's also how he shares his difference with new friends.
Over the years Ryan has gradually gained an understanding and awareness about his dwarfism. Ask him why he's small. Go ahead! He'll tell you that he's four (or soon he'll say five!) and that he's "Little Big". Ryan knows he is little, but he also knows that little people still grow-up and do big things. And I'm proud to say that for the most part, he's content with this. He's happy.
Of course he has moments. And they break my heart. This is a gradual process after all. What a huge concept for a kid to have to learn and grasp. He's not even 5 years old and he's been given the task of understanding a life-long diagnosis! And on top of that, he's given the challenge to like himself with his difference. How many people without a difference can say this? Don't we all struggle at that? And yet, it's what we tell him to do. It's what he needs to do. I can't imagine. But I also couldn't be prouder. Ryan stands tall in every way possible. Well, every way outside of the literal definition. And you know what? He stands taller than most.
