This Is How We Roll

The little boy who visits next door (who is maybe seven) has a scooter. Joy loves her scooter, and she recently saw the boy next door doing some pretty fancy riding on his. His scooter is aluminum with a rear fender brake and has just two rubber wheels, and those wheels can go. He does two forceful pushes from the top of the driveway, and he is suddenly zooming down the street at fifteen or twenty miles an hour.

Joy has a scooter that is mostly plastic. Her scooter has three wheels and is really just a training toy for toddlers. It can pick up speed on a downhill slope, but we have been keeping Joy on level areas of the sidewalk. For safety.

But apparently Joy has been watching the boy wonder next door. A few days ago, she did two strong pushes with her right leg, and then stood on the deck with both feet. Almost immediately she was standing still because she is on level ground. She tried again. She went about four inches and then stopped.

I encouraged Joy to keep pushing. “Come on, Joy! Push-push-push!”

And so she pushed. She scootered a block east and then came back home as I walked beside her.

I mentioned it to Deb. She said, “Maybe we should get her a faster scooter.”

I said, “I really don’t want her going fifteen miles an hour. She doesn’t have the skills to handle a scooter going that fast.” Plus, Joy doesn’t like wearing a helmet or knee pads.

And I started thinking. Eventually, Joy will understand that she does not have the same abilities as other kids her age.

And I’m not looking forward to that day. I don’t want to see the disappointment on her face when she realizes that she is different.

But we’re all different, aren’t we? And I love Joy’s differences. I love her uniqueness.

And if Joy had the words to ask me why she can’t ride a scooter at fifteen miles per hour, I might say, “Joy, you are on your own journey, at your own pace. I love that you scooter along at a pace so that I can walk with you. I get to talk to you and watch out for cars. When you get tired, I can pick you up with one arm and carry the scooter with the other. If you want to go fast, we can get on the bike together and zip around the block at twenty-five miles per hour. And I can listen to you laugh and giggle as you bounce around in the trailer. Joy, you are exactly where you need to be. And I know for certain that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, because I’m right next to you.”