little Darth Vader boy

Cooper, my dear sweet, little Darth Vader boy.


I have gotten so used to the staring that I am not even sure it still happens. Occasionally in a moment of weakness, I will look around to see. To see those moms who hold their children close, far away from my child who sounds like he has the worst case of RSV known to man.


It used to make me cry to think about it. I remember sitting in an exam room at the ENT office and asking begging our doctor to do the surgery that could correct it, with thoughts of a teen-aged Cooper trying to ask a girl on a date with this heavy, intense breathing...


He refused of course kindly explained that even if he thought it were a good idea (which he didn't) there wasn't any way insurance would cover such a surgery unless it was interfering with his ability to thrive (which is obviously a non-issue). But when does self-esteem factor into this? How do you assess the impact of those mean kids that are everywhere... they ones with those judgmental moms.


I am 28 years old, a college graduate, am making an awesome career for myself and have crossed over more obstacles than I can count in my years. I have years of grooming, both emotionally and spiritually, to make me bigger than something like noisy breathing. I STILL allow others to affect my weather with their judgmental stares (how dare she bring a sick child like that out in public!) But my son? No, not my sweet son. How can I possibly allow him to grow up like this?


Today, I attempted to explain this to our doctor. Not because I am still on the surgery train, but because I just wanted him to see how sad it makes me. I just wanted him to understand. As soon as I told him I was considering what life would be like for a 6 year old breathing like this, that I was mostly over the staring but I couldn't possibly expect Cooper to be. Dr. Brager whipped around in his chair, looked me dead in the face and said, "He. Will. Not. Sound. Like. This. We. Will. Solve. This. And in the meantime, Cooper can just beat them up."


And its true. He can. He is a healthy, beautiful, smart boy. He is doing everything he should be doing. He is sweeter than pie and is as rad as the 80s. What does it matter if he sounds like this? Grandad says, he will have an advantage over his fellow football players because his opponents will be scared shitless... Oh Grandad...

But he won't. He won't beat them up. He is far too sweet for that. He won't even notice them. He will think the moms are weird and the kids are weirder and will still walk up to them with a love knuckle fist, waiting to make a friend. He will remind mommy that I am the only one who cares that people stare, I am the only one that even notices. And if he ever does pay attention, if he ever realizes, I will let him beat them up. Just like Darth Vadar would.