Toys

Toys make me sad.

Every day I carry more and more toys down to the basement for storage, ones that Ollie no longer plays with. At first it was ride-on toys and other toys kids sit on. Shortly after that it was the more complex toys that required fine motor skills, such a puzzles and toys with small buttons. Now it seems like most every toy is finding itself moving downstairs, even toys he just received for his 2nd birthday, four short months ago.

In the past month Oliver has lost most of his meaningful arm control and doesn't reach for or grab things very often. For the most part his arms are kept pulled in towards his body, like he's getting ready for a fight. And although he wants to be independent so badly his version of "playing" now involves sitting and watching Chris and I play with his toys on his lap. Sometimes he laughs at us, and giggles when we make his toys kiss him or run up and down his leg. But sometimes he cries. He cries in frustration when he tries to join in but can't. He'll reach out to grab a toy but his shaky arms cause him to miss, he'll try to push the siren on one of his six firetrucks but his fine motor skills aren't precise enough to even push the buttons anymore. His body is failing him, he can't even play.

Today, while sitting in my lap, he looked up at me while we "played", and I've never seen such deep sadness in his beautiful blue eyes, he doesn't understand any of this, he's only two years old, it's as if he was saying to me "Why can't I do this anymore Mommy? Please help me." And I just kissed his head and apologized over and over, "I'm so sorry baby, I wish I could, more than anything I wish I could."

Helpless.