Recently I was pushing Zach in his industrial (carries up to 140lbs) stroller, through one of the wholesale stores to entertain him for a bit. This was the first time since COVID hit, that we have returned to this favorite haunt of his. Mostly, he just wants to look around at the other patrons and is not so concerned with buying anything.
Although Zach is insistent (and this has not changed in the 15 months since we last entered this place) on buying “candy” it is only so he can enjoy unwrapping all the pieces and putting the chocolate balls in a bowl. Good to know some things never change.
As we navigated I was stopped by another shopper who had an anxious little boy in the front of her cart. “Sorry to bother you,” she said. “But may I ask where you bought that stroller?” It took only a split second for me to realize her son was being somewhat entertained by a tablet with an indestructible cover (one to rival the case protecting the tablet occupying Zach’s hands) and he was a little too big to spend many more trips in the front section of her cart designed for toddlers.
My mind took an immediate trip backwards to when Zach was too big for a shopping cart or a standard stroller, but couldn’t walk more than a few steps. This was also before we’d gotten him measured for a customized wheel chair which is too expensive to pay for without some type of insurance, and also not ideal for him when we are simply out in the community buying candy.
I remembered going to many stores, in person and on line (internet shopping wasn’t a thing quite yet) trying to find a means to move Zach around. Either the seats were too narrow for his hips, or the frames were not strong enough to provide the support he needed. We tried “renting” wheelchairs, even appreciated the one gifted to us by a dear friend who’s loved one had passed away and no longer needed it.
There was also the challenge of lugging around whatever chair or stroller would be strong enough to carry a 50 or 60 pounder. Moving something that heavy in and out of my trunk, up and down the stairs of my townhome, and up and down the landing inside all contributed to my chronic back pain and injuries.
All of these visceral memories literally passed through me in less than 3 seconds. Experiences most parents never face. Not fitting anywhere, and needing things that don’t exist just to get through the activities of daily living.
I smiled (under my mask) and said “No bother at all! I can tell you everything you need to know about this stroller.” I went on to tell her we have two, and the one we were in was over 12 years old. It was sturdy and they are not as expensive as they once were (nearly $1K for a new one.). As she took a picture of the manufacturer (McClaren, for curious minds) I glanced at her special boy and tried to engage him as our eyes made fleeting contact.
The entire interaction may have lasted a minute or two, but in that time I was so grateful to have been able to help. I wished them well and was reminded of the many seemingly random bits of information stored in my brain, that were earned through the struggles of raising my own special boy. I got that lovely, warm brain chemical hit of oxytocin, the one that makes us feel that we belong.
Next time you want to ask a stranger a question, but feel silly or self conscious, don’t! You might just be doing them as big a favor (letting them share what they know) as you think they are doing for you, by letting you “bother” them for just a minute.
Remember from yesterday’s post: Asking questions is a good way of finding things out.