little ones

My family's been doing a lot of growing lately. And I don't just mean we're getting older; there are a couple new additions in the form of little Emma (who is almost 3 months old) and Natalia (who just celebrated her first month.) My two cousins gave birth to beautiful baby girls this summer. Now I don't know if it's just because I'm female, but I looooove babies. They're so cute and tiny and innocent. And the way they trust you so completely is so sweet.

Other people's kids are adorable. But when your relatives have babies, it's like those little cutiepies are yours too. So I'm over their houses as often as I can be, changing diapers and pushing strollers and dressing them in the latest baby fashions. I just can't get enough of these newborns though, of course, Emma's older brother Luke will always be my first baby. 

Speaking of Luke (whom I blogged about a while ago), he's just discovered the fact that the reason my left arm looks different than most people's is because I don't have a hand. Here's a brief transcript of our conversation a few weeks ago:

Emma in her ballerina tutu

Luke (matter-of-factly): "KT, you have only one arm. "

Me: "Yes, Luke, I do."

Luke (grabbing my right hand, which I do have): "Everybody, I want to hold KT's hand because she has one arm."

Me (not quite understanding his 3-year-old's logic): "Okay."

Luke: "KT, can I have your phone so I can play a game?"

Me (making sure my iPhone is sealed within an indestructible Luke-proof case): "Sure. I just bought some new games for you."

Luke: "Aw, shucks! Thanks, KT! Can you help me beat them?"

What I love about this exchange is that he realized the whole one-hand situation but still took for granted that I could help him win the games like anyone else. That's the kind of attitude I wish more adults would adopt. Note to everyone: take a hint from this adorable 3-year-old and just assume that I can take care of myself. In fact, you should assume that of all people with physical differences and at least pretend not to be shocked when they tell you about how they play guitar with one hand or run their own company or were formerly married to a Beatle (ever heard of Heather Mills?). Luke acknowledged the difference, but he didn't make it a huge deal or change the way he acts towards me.

Princess Natalia the daydreamer

Anyway, that's my little Luke for you. He's a happy-go-lucky boy who's a bit precocious and way too smart for his age. I love him with all my heart, even when he openly admits that he loves my boyfriend Chris more than he loves me. Chris is really good with Luke, playing along in his many imaginative epic sword-fighting and gun-shooting adventures. He also loves kids and has no problem looking silly if it means getting a smile out of a toddler.

One night after playing with Luke, Chris and I stopped for coffee when I felt the need to tell him something that had just struck me as extremely important. I blurted out to him that my disability is not genetic and that my children would be completely unaffected. He seemed surprised. "Oh, okay," was all he said. Wait....I thought. He hadn't known this? Curious and somewhat confused, I asked him why he had stayed in a serious relationship with me if he thought that his future babies could be born with a missing limb. I have to say, his answer was a pretty damn good one:

"Because I love you and I don't care. And I know they would be fine, like you."


Peace,
Caitlin :)