Before We Ever Leave the House

Today is Father’s Day, and it is the first one we are celebrating with Kevin as Gracie’s dad.

Gracie is four months old now, and already she is starting to lift her head and push her little arms like she wants to get somewhere. She is not crawling yet, but the intent is there. Soon, she will be moving around in new ways as she grows and develops, and Kevin and I both know what that means. Another phase is coming.

We will need to adapt our home for her new movements, and I am sure Kevin and I will be asking ourselves the same question we have asked through every new stage:

How do we handle this next phase?

If you have not already read Kevin’s post, “The Grief Nobody Names,” I encourage you to read it first. He talks about something important in that post, that being a father is about more than doing the physical things.

That post is his.

This one is mine.

And what I want to talk about today is what I do, what I notice, and what has to happen before our family ever gets out the door.

A Note Before I Go Any Further

Before I get into the logistics, I want to say something upfront, because I have said versions of this before and I think it still matters here.

The gender roles in our marriage look different from most. Kevin and I both know that. When I talk about the physical things I do in our daily life, the lifting, the loading, the planning, and the routines, I do not share those things for attention. I do not share them for praise or pity. I am not asking for a badge of honor.

A lot of what I do is typical mom stuff, and I know that. I am just sharing these things because they are part of our life and part of how our family operates. As Kevin and I continue putting ourselves out there more through The Unstoppable Parent, we want people to see our life more clearly. And part of that means being honest about what our everyday routines actually look like.

When Kevin and I married, I knew I was committing to a lifestyle that would require me to do more of the physical lifting. I knew that going in, and I was fine with that. I felt then, and I still feel now, that what I have gained from being in this relationship with Kevin is far greater than what is physically required of me.

That has always been true for me.

So when I talk about what it takes to get our family out the door, I am not saying it to make people feel sorry for me. I am saying it because this is our life, and this is how we make it work.

The Morning Before the Morning

A lot has to happen before we are ready to leave the house.

We are not usually an early-out-the-door family, and we have learned to be okay with that. Kevin and I both work hard throughout the week, so by the time the weekend comes, we are tired. Usually, our errand days happen on the weekends, and we try to give ourselves a slower morning before we leave.

We are lucky if we get out the door before 11 AM.

We usually sleep in until around six or seven, and then I help Kevin with stretching before he gets out of bed. That is the first part of the day. Before breakfast, before getting ready, before anything else, we take that time.

After that, I make breakfast and clean up the kitchen. I help us both get dressed. I help Kevin with his socks, braces, and shoes, and then I assist him with getting into his wheelchair.

That was already our routine before Gracie.

Now, as a new mother, I am learning how to juggle Gracie’s needs with the routine we already had for getting out of the house. It has required us to be flexible and adapt to her needs as they come up.

We do our best to be ready on time, but often our departure time changes because her needs change. The goal is usually to leave right after she has a fresh diaper and has been fed. If we can leave right after she eats, it helps later because I may not need to pull over as many times to change her or feed her while we are out.

But in reality, we can plan all we want, and it is still mostly an estimate.

She may get hungry earlier than expected. She may need to be held. She may need a diaper change right when we thought we were ready. That is just part of having a baby. We have had to learn to be flexible with the actual time we leave the house.

In those first couple of weeks after Gracie came home from the hospital, Kevin and I were constantly checking in with each other. Not just about the logistics, but about how we were doing with our own needs too.

What is working?

What is not working?

How do we adjust?

We were figuring it out through trial and error, like most new parents do. But our baseline was already more involved than most. What we found was that it usually took one to two of Gracie’s full waking windows before all three of us were ready at the same time. That often put us closer to 1 PM.

Eventually, we stopped fighting that timeline. We started working with it.

The System Behind the Calm

Like most mothers, and fathers too, I am learning to always have a bag ready with extra supplies. But for our family, that system extends beyond the diaper bag. It includes everything in the van that I may need for Kevin too.

Being organized is key for us.

It gives me confidence to know that what I have packed will be there when I need it. Those little things help make our outings easier and more manageable. Having them ready gives me peace of mind, so I can mentally handle the physical things that need to happen throughout the day.

Our van is packed in a way that helps our outings go more smoothly. The stroller stays in the back. The diaper bag stays in the van, fully stocked with diapers and formula. Kevin’s wheelchair tie-downs are on the floor, ready to lock his chair into place. Any loose items in the van need to be secured and out of the way so I can park, get to the back, and reach what I need without having to move a bunch of things around.

Everything has a place.

And everything needs to stay in its place.

Even the way we park the van is part of the system. We back it into the garage so the ramp faces the door to the house. That makes getting in and out of the home easier and reduces some of the physical work on my part.

All of these little things may seem insignificant to someone else, but they are part of the system that helps me feel confident as the caregiver and driver in our family.

Our accessible van has made a big difference in our life. It allows me to pull over whenever Gracie needs a diaper change, needs to be fed, or just needs to be held. On a normal errand day, which usually lasts about three to four hours, we may stop one or two times just for her.

It has been a great adventure having our van.

It is not just Kevin’s accessibility vehicle anymore. It is part of Gracie’s life too. It holds his wheelchair, her car seat, the stroller, the diaper bag, and everything else we need to make our family outings possible.

The story of how we got our van is one I will save for another time, because that deserves its own post. But I am very grateful for it.

The Order of Everyone

When we are ready to get into the van, I have an order for doing things. It is not random. It is mainly for safety and to make sure Gracie is attended with hands-on support at all times when we are in public.

When we leave the house, Gracie is always the last one to get in.

When we arrive somewhere and unload, she is also the last one to get out, so that as soon as her carrier is locked into the stroller, I never leave her side.

When we return to the van, she is always the first one to get back in.

I think through these things in advance so the logistics can work in our favor. It helps keep us safe, and it helps me not get flustered or overwhelmed in the moment.

So when we leave the house, I first help Kevin transition into his wheelchair. Then I go out to the garage, open the ramp to the van, and prop open the door from the house to the garage. I assist in pushing Kevin in his wheelchair up the ramp and into the van.

With our system in place, that part usually takes less than a minute.

Then I come back inside, take Gracie from her carrier, buckle her into her car seat, carry her to the garage, walk her up the ramp, and lock her into the back bench.

Since Gracie arrived, Kevin has been sitting with her on the back bench. That gives me peace of mind, knowing he is there with her while I drive. I think about that sometimes when I am pulling out of the driveway. Today is his first Father’s Day, and that image matters to me: Kevin in the back of our van with our daughter, sitting beside her while I take us where we need to go.

It may not be what fatherhood looks like in the movies.

But it is what fatherhood looks like in our family.

And I love that.

After Gracie is settled, I help Kevin as needed, then I lock his wheelchair to the floor with the tie-downs. Then I get into the driver’s seat, close the ramp, open the garage door, and we are on our way.

Reading the Day as It Happens

Once we are out, I am still paying attention.

There are things I have learned to watch for with Kevin’s wheelchair. I check whether his SmartDrive is turned on, because it helps his wheelchair move with less effort. I check whether his wheels need air. If they do, we get the portable electric pump from the bag attached under his chair and air up the tires.

That little device is very convenient. There have been a few times where we found an empty aisle in a store and used it there. It only takes about two to five minutes, but it is much better to handle it right away than to let it become a problem later in the trip.

I also look for pathways that are easier for Kevin to access. I notice routes we should avoid. I look for more streamlined ways to move through a store or parking lot so things are easier on all of us.

Finding van-accessible parking can be its own adventure. We need those spaces because of the ramp. We cannot just park in a standard space and still have room to safely get Kevin in and out.

Sometimes we are lucky and find a spot right away. Other times, especially on busy shopping days, I may have to drive around two or three times waiting for one to open up. We have learned that sometimes it is better to wait than to park far away in the back of the lot.

Drivers do not always expect to see a wheelchair user at the back of a parking lot. They may not see us clearly. That makes me uneasy, and it does not feel safe. Especially now that we have Gracie with us.

I would rather wait for the right spot than put my family in a situation that does not feel safe.

I tend to watch our surroundings a lot. I assess the environment and try to figure out the safest and easiest way to navigate it. I developed that skill earlier in my life, before Kevin, from experiences that taught me to pay attention to the safety of others. In some ways, what I do now for our family is a skill I already had, redirected toward the people I love most.

We have also learned to think more practically about timing.

As most families know, there are many little things to get done over the weekend. Home projects, grocery shopping, errands, supplies for the next week. But when it comes to shopping, we have to be realistic about how many places we can actually go.

Sometimes going to two or three stores feels like we went on an all-weekend shopping spree to the outlet mall, like I used to do when I was a teenager.

Throughout the day, I often look over at Kevin and ask, “How are we doing?”

We have been together long enough that he knows what I mean.

I am asking how he is feeling. I am asking about his pain level. I am asking how his legs are doing. I am asking how Gracie is doing. Does she look tired? Is she ready to be done? Can we make it to the next store we planned on going to, or should we call it and go home to rest?

Those are the realities we have to be honest with each other about.

We have also learned that on busier shopping days, it may be better for us to arrange some errands on weekdays when we can. That helps us avoid crowds, feel less rushed, and actually enjoy the shopping experience a little more.

What Feels Normal to Me

I guess a lot of this feels normal to me because I have been doing it for so long.

I do not say that conceitedly or arrogantly. I know I am not perfect at it. I know I need to keep taking care of myself physically so I can maintain what our lifestyle requires. That is something I am honest with myself about.

But I think it also feels normal because I have had to mentally prepare myself for this life. To physically do what our lifestyle requires, I have to be mentally and psychologically ready to handle it too.

I have had experiences earlier in my life that helped prepare my mind to do physically hard things. That foundation has helped me here.

I am sure others may look at what our family does and think it is not normal. They may say they could never do it. And that is okay. I understand that response.

But this is my life.

I feel like I handle it decently, and I love my life.

I am not doing these things despite Kevin. I am doing them for our life, which includes Kevin and Gracie and everything we have built together.

Where Tired Does Not Have to Become Resentful

Where it gets tiring without becoming resentful is in remembering to be grateful for the little things that help us do what we do.

The little successes remind me that we are doing it. We are making it happen by doing the best we can and leaving the rest for God to work out. And God has come through every time.

Especially over the last six years, as we have worked toward more independence, became homeowners, and now have a child, I can look back and see that we have always had what we needed within us to keep moving forward. We have worked for what we wanted from life, and it means so much to me to see the moments and miracles that helped us get here.

I am grateful for our van and for what made it possible for us to get it. That vehicle has helped make our family lifestyle possible.

I am grateful for work-from-home opportunities that have given our family flexibility.

I am grateful for Kevin’s career and for the determination it has taken him to not only hold down a job, but to advance and promote himself through his career. He has had to build understanding relationships with employers. Some supervisors have been obstacles to his success. Others have been people he was able to educate about his disability needs and how they could support him.

Navigating the workforce as a person with a disability can feel daunting. It can feel like an uphill battle when supervisors do not understand. It takes emotional energy, self-advocacy, and determination to keep going.

I have watched Kevin do that.

I have watched him stand up for himself when it was exhausting. I have watched him keep going when some people did not understand him. And I am grateful for the supportive and understanding employers who have been in his corner, who saw him, cared about him, backed him up, and helped him grow.

Those relationships have helped Kevin, but they have also helped me feel supported in ways I needed too. I thank God for people in Kevin’s life who have genuinely cheered him on.

What helps keep resentment away is appreciating these kinds of things. To other people, they may not mean much. To us, they mean the world.

Kevin grew up being taught to truly appreciate the small things in life. I have learned that more deeply by living this life with him.

If I am honest, there have been a few moments when I have been tired and there was a temptation to feel resentful. But those moments have been few and far between. Usually when I have felt that way, it is because a lot had built up and I needed to stop and pay attention to my own needs.

I have had to learn to pause.

To rest.

To listen to what my body and mind are telling me before I keep going.

That helps me do what I do with the right attitude. In my opinion, that is an important life skill for all people, because negative feelings can creep in if we ignore them for too long. It is a matter of guarding the mind.

That has been a journey for me over these last ten years. I am much better now at realizing my needs and not looking past them. I have come a long way, but I am still not perfect at it.

I am a work in progress.

I think it is easy for anyone to feel entitled to more, or to feel like we need certain things before we can be happy. I try to be mindful of that. I try to live my life without feeling entitled or privileged to anything, because the truth is there is so much to be grateful for.

If we cannot be content with the small things, then what makes us ready for more blessings?

That is a question I ask myself often.

I have always been a minimalistic kind of person. Less is more. I think it is important to ask ourselves what it really takes to choose happiness. Do we really need everything we think we need to be happy? Can we be happy even when we do not get our own way?

Other people may look at our life and think we have less. But what matters most is how we feel about what we have.

And when I look at our life, I feel grateful.

I am grateful for the van in the garage. I am grateful for the tie-downs on the floor. I am grateful for the little pump under Kevin’s wheelchair. I am grateful for the slow mornings, the systems we have built, the work we have done, and the family we are raising.

Those small things are not small to me.

They are the proof that we are doing this.

They are the reminders that God has carried us through every phase so far.

And as Gracie grows, and as the next phase comes, I know we will keep asking the same question:

How do we handle this next phase?

And then, together, we will figure it out.

Read Kevin’s companion post:
Kevin shares his side of this season in The Grief Nobody Names: What It Costs to Love Your Child From a Wheelchair.

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