Scott had one of those down in the dumps days today.  He was feeling blue and out of sorts.  As such, he was feeling frustrated with the kids, the dog, me, and I’m sure himself.  He made a comment that he was feeling upset about Evelyn.

Alarms sounded in my head.  My heart started skipping beats.  And I got that sinking butterfly wings beating furiously deep down in my gut.

I have this problem with people having anything but 110% positive about Evie.  Especially my husband.

I can’t stand the thought that someone would think, for a moment, that her disabilities have any negative influence on her propensity to be happy and whole.

I can’t even articulate the extent to which this penetrates my soul.

I don’t allow myself these thoughts.  And selfishly, I don’t allow the people close to Evelyn to express them in my presence without going to the moon and back to discredit their feelings–out loud and in my head.

I tell them, I tell myself, that they have a problem.  A big one.  How could anyone not recognize that Evelyn’s life is beautiful every moment of every day?

I was sitting here thinking about how I could convince Scott to think like I think.  He doesn’t call me the prosecutor for nothing.  And I started thinking about how I must win this argument.  Every single time.  I am relentless.

I’ve convinced myself that my way is the right way to feel.  And that no moment of doubt is acceptable for anyone else.  Not ever.  Evie is happy and that is all that counts.  End of story.  Scott’s flawed thinking that Evie will feel frustrated sometimes because she cannot speak like most of the population must be anihalated.

Somehow, I started thinking that maybe I am the one that has the problem.  You see, I almost never let negative thoughts creep into my head when it comes to Evie’s disabilities.  At first I told myself that it is because I am so evolved that I simply don’t have them.  But I couldn’t sell it to myself.

I wonder where my thoughts go?  The ones that I don’t let myself have.  I guess I bury them way deep down in the pit of my stomach and they only threaten to rise up when someone else gives them words.  Maybe somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I have told myself that it would be unfair to Evie to ever express a moment of doubt that she is, indeed, the happiest person on the planet.  That her disabilities do not matter.  Not in the least.

So maybe when I fight so hard against Scott’s fears, I am really fighting against my own.

And maybe, just maybe, there are times when I am doing Evie a disservice by not allowing myself to think the hard thoughts.

Maybe I’ve built this super defense mechanism that is damaging the people that I care about.  Damging myself.

Don’t get me wrong.  For the most part, I am super duper right when it comes to keeping everything in perspective.  To  thinking positively.  And really, not allowing anyone to entertain doubts and negative thoughts for too long.

But maybe, just once in a while, I should allow people–allow myself a moment to be human.  A moment to acknowledge Evie’s unique challenges without treating it like an attack on her happiness and going into warrior mode.

While there are some thoughts that need to be quashed without hesitation, there are others that should be considered in effort to enhance Evie’s happiness.  And while I might not be able to speak them, maybe I need to learn to make room for others to do so.  And maybe I need to give them the occasional space to roll around in my consciousness and feel their weightiness before I shove them into the underbelly of my mind.

Maybe.

But maybe not.