Monday, May 30, 2011
I went to the neighborhood pool this afternoon and as were walking in I hear teenage girls giggling and one says "he is so cute, he'll be a hottie when he' older." I didn't even have to turn to know who they were talking about. He is the cutest thing I must admit. They continued to smile at him and talk about how he was walking, and he talked so good for his age. Did they know his age? NO, but it was sweet and innocent. He can swim on his own, and does very well for his size and muscle tone and I saw at one point all the adults staring at us watching this "baby" swimming and I knew it was coming. "The how old is he question". I hate that we will always have that question. Weather it is soccer, a field trip, doggy paddling or at the grocery store it never lets up. I wish I could put him in a bubble and never let him hear the "how old is he conversation" ever again. But I feel a sense of obligation not only to help you, my hypochondroplasia blog family but also the people who are not aware, who are curious, even those who are rude. God has more for us than surviving He expects thriving, He expects compassion He expects love.