Life with a child with Down Syndrome is an adventure. There are good days, and there are bad. Lynsie is rather low functioning. I think her mental age is 2 or 3 but she is 14 years old.
Lynsie is the youngest of 6 children. I was 32 when she was born. My other 5 children have always been so good with her. I could write an entire post about the siblings of disabled people.
We have a lot of family traditions. Some we have been doing for 25 years! Some even longer since they were going on when I was a child. One tradition we have adopted recently is our annual hayride to the pumpkin patch. There is a nursery in the area that offers this event to their customers. The cost is a canned good for each person. I assume it is a tax write off for them. We love it and have been going for several years. They even let everyone take home a pumpkin. I have spent a great deal of money there, so I am a happy return customer.
Lately the word has gotten out and the line has been getting longer. So I told my kids what time we needed to leave so we could get in line early and not be stuck waiting for the hayride for all perpetuity. As luck would have it, we left 15 minutes later than planned. Once we arrived I could see the line getting longer each passing second. I told my older kids to grab Lynsie and get in line. Unfortunately I forgot to send them with their admission; canned goods. So they trudged through the jammed parking lot trying to find me and my vehicle in order to retrieve the canned food. Of course, the line doubled in the time it took for them to find me and get back in line. Sigh.
Like most 2 or 3 year olds, Lynsie doesn't like to wait in line. In fact, she hates it. Now if I were a smart mother, I would have just told the kids we would just bag it for this year. But the thing about having a child with disabilities is, well, I try to prevent my other kids from having to miss out too much because of their sister. I know they would never resent her, but just the same, I want to try to avoid it when I can. Because hindsight is 20/20, I can now see that all of us having a miserable time is not exactly building great family memories either.
We spent an hour waiting in line to get on that silly hayride. Way too long! The cute young family in line behind us was very kind to us. The mom said she had a sibling with disabilities. Lynsie was maybe a bit too close and invading of space with her little boys, but mom was understanding. Now the family in front of us, they didn't come off as quite so tolerant. Lynsie prefers to keep moving, and would often walk in front of them to look at something or to try and move the line along. Of course, the rest of my family waited patiently behind them. The dad, every time Lynsie started wandering into their "space", he would take a step and block the way. So it wasn't an "in-your-face" we don't like your kid kind of thing; but it was his way of making sure to mark his territory. Like we would say, "Hey, Lynsie just got in front of you, now our whole family will move there too!"
Also when Lynsie is feeling inpatient she will maul her older siblings. The poor kids were climbed on, spit on, dragged, hair pulled, screamed at, well the list goes on. An hour is a very long time.
Finally it is our turn to get on the flat bed trailer loaded with hay and ride out to the pumpkin patch. Lynsie loves this part. She also loves to throw as much hay off as she can. Hopefully they don't mind. Once we finally got there I realize that the line back was pretty long as well. The idea of repeating the same hour we just passed just made me feel exhausted. So I told my older kids to go find their pumpkins and I would get back in line and watch Lynsie from where I was standing (my husband had too many home repairs and couldn't join us this time-I think he was secretly very happy to have a good excuse).
Lynsie loves the actual pumpkin patch. She usually doesn't wander very far, she will look in her immediate area and find the smallest and most deformed pumpkin around. I always kinda chuckle because her favorite dolls are the same, small and broken.
This time Lynsie wasn't really interested in looking for a pumpkin, instead she discovered that the recent rains made plentiful dirt clods in the field. She loves the feel of picking it up and being able to crumble them in her hands. I watched as she picked one up and threw it back-handed behind her. I run, knowing I am losing my spot, in order to stop her. By the time I get to her she is chucking her third dirt clod which successfully smacks a little 3 year old square on the head. The poor kid screamed. Mom was sweet and saw my horror and assured me that no damage had been done, no rocks involved, he would be fine. Of course, he continued to scream. So now I am trying to drag my 85 lb daughter back into line so I could keep her from hurting anymore little kids. She doesn't want to go. Chucking dirt clods is way too much fun. Lynsie is just too big and strong for me to pick up and carry her anymore. By the time we get back in line, the line has grown significantly. But she doesn't want to get in line, she has had enough of that for one day. She keeps running away from me and picking up more dirt clods. My older kids are way in the back of the pumpkin patch and can't see my situation. By this point I am beginning to think I will be stuck in this pumpkin patch forever. Finally my kids make it back and once again we get in the back of a very long line. I have had it at this point.
Can I just interject right here; I believe most people are good. There are always mean and bad people, but I think most want to help.
There was this sweet family in front of us. It just so happens that they have an autistic son. The dad approached me and asked how he could help. I tried to remain calm but by this time I am at my wits end. This dad then asked if he could go talk to the workers and ask if we could get in the next hayride back. By this point I am starting to lose it. Tears start running down my face and I nod yes. He gives me a side hug and heads up to the front of the line. You know how it goes, you're stressed, trying to hold it together, "just keep it together, you can do it". But then someone realizes that you need help and offers, and that is what causes the dam to break lose. The water works are activated. I just started crying. I think I was just exhausted from fighting her, and then embarrassed because she hurt a small child, and unsure how I would endure another long line. I just wanted to get home and let her play on her iPad.
Of course they allowed us to skip the line and get on the next ride out. Here I am, walking past all these people, feeling like a line cutter, tears rolling down my cheeks. I hope they were feeling compassion and not disdain.
It turns out we got on the same ride back with the lady I was originally standing in line behind.
Unfortunately, that will be the last time I ever take the kids to the Annual Hayride and Pumpkin Patch event. They are getting a little older, so I guess it's ok. When the kids get older and start to leave home, I suppose it makes me want to hold on a little and grab a few last memories. We worry if we have added enough happy, fun family memories to make the difficult ones seem not too bad. I think this one I tried to get in the happy memories file, but it ended up in the stressful memories file instead. But you know, all of these things are what makes a family. My kids have learned so much about tolerance and compassion. They are some of the most selfless people I know. That is one of the benefits that often families with disabled family members learn. It just can't be all about them, because there is a family member with so many needs. I am grateful that Lynsie is a member of our family. She truly brings so much to us that we could never learn otherwise. I always say that my job as a mom is to raise good adults, not necessarily good children (kids that can think for themselves are often strong-willed). What better adults could anyone ask for than people that are aware of others, look for opportunities to serve and help others and improve the lives of those around them.
I am so grateful for that stranger that saw a need and helped to alleviate my stress. He could tell I was lacking in the ability at the time to go and handle the problem myself (there was no way I was in a condition to walk up and ask for cuts in line). He has a disabled child himself. May God bless him and I hope that sometime when life is hard for him and his family, that someone will step up and help them as well.
God Bless! Thank you for reading.
