A Thousands Words...

Sure, a picture is worth a thousand words. But what if what you see in a photo doesn’t tell the whole story? I often think about this from the social media angle, but tonight I thought of a different perspective. 

Take this photo for example...

{Photo taken looking down at Wyatt who is climbing on playground equipment, his fingers through the holes in the grates}

You see Wyatt, hands on playground equipment steps. 

What you don’t see is me using my body to protect him, to keep him safe, to support him so he can focus on trying to do tall knees, a skill he’s working hard on in PT, so he can access the playground equipment like the other children on the playground. You see hands, in the grates. What you don’t see is a little boy who sees using his hands because his eyes don’t see so well. You don’t see him (hear him?) clicking his tongue because children around him are playing and that’s how he “talks” to people right now. 

{Photo of Wyatt sitting on a step on the playground equipment, one hand on each step}

You see a boy who is sitting on a step, with an unusual coed hanging out from his waist. 

What you don’t see is a little boy who is using an hour of his freedom from cords (he only gets 4 cord-free hours a day!) to play on a playground. 

You see a boy who is going barefoot on public playground equipment.  

What you don’t see is a boy who spent an awful lot of effort in the car seat entertaining himself by taking off his SMO’s (braces) and his socks, exploring the world barefoot because he doesn’t get much time to do that. (Sidenote: you also don’t see the look of relief on his mothers face because while he entertained himself beautifully in the car, if he had taken off that cord, she’d mentally be doing the math to ensure there were going to be enough cords to get through the month since insurance only covers 5 of them a month and toddlers don’t care about those details). 

You don’t see a boy who is using both hands to “see” his world to know if it’s safe to attempt to move independently, or if he should put his arms up to go safely back in his moms hands. 

You don’t see a boy who has worked so hard to master sitting independently only to struggle a little more because he’s not feeling well. 

{Photo of Wyatt, sitting on a slide. One hand is propping himself up and the other is touching the slide}

You see a picture of a kid with chubby arms, sitting on a slide. 

What you don’t see is years of stress, counting calories, dreading scales because every ounce counts. You don’t see a boy who seconds before had licked the slide (toddlers are gross!). You don’t see a boy who is using his hands to assess the safety of the slide, because it’s an unusual feel and he’s not sure what to do next. 

Pictures are worth a thousand words, for sure. 

And for humor... what you don’t see in these photos is a kid who had a “code brown explosion” who required a hazmat suit to be changed in the back of the car because, wow. Dude had a bad one. 

All this to say, there’s so much more to photos. Each one has a story, a feeling it evokes. I’m thankful everyday that I am fortunate enough to get to snap photos that tell our story, and a safe place to share.