"But I can't."

I am the type of mother that tends to do too much for her children. I admit it. Bob will definitely agree with that statement too as he is always chiding me for just how much I do for them. And sometimes I get to the point where I have had it up to there, and I am not going to do so much for them anymore! But then I calm down and realize that as much as I do for them they do for me in return. I know that they appreciate what I do for them, and when I ask them to help me with something I don't ever hear complaints (unless it is coming from Elizabeth, but that is a whole different story).

Now, I don't know about you, but as much as I like doing things for my children I also want to make sure that they can do these things for themselves. Because someday they are all going to be out on their own and I want them to be able to fend for themselves. In doing all that I do for my children I don't do it to cripple them when they become adults. I do it so that they can look back and appreciate how much their mother (and father) did for them and in return offer their own families the same dedication and hard work that I (we) have given/shown them. On the mornings that I don't feel like making breakfast I know that I can ask my children to please make pancakes for the family. And they will do so making them from scratch - just as I do for them.

So this morning after breakfast was eaten by all of the children but Sarah she asked me to make her some breakfast. I was in the middle of doing something else and told her that this morning she was going to need to make her own breakfast. Then she said three words that made me stop dead with what I was doing.

"But I can't."

In my head I was thinking, "Oh, hell no. You did NOT just say that." Thankfully, my reply was somewhat kinder. I told Sarah that she absolutely could make herself breakfast. She whined and said that she could not because she cannot see what she was doing. My reply this time was not as sweet. I told her sternly that she absolutely can make herself breakfast. That there is absolutely no reason that she cannot do that and I better not hear those words come out of her mouth again.

Maybe that wasn't the best response. I am sure if I had a rewind button I would have responded a bit differently, but here is the thing - I don't want Sarah (or any of my children) to think that they "can't" do something. Because Sarah has shown me time and time again that anyone can do anything if they truly want to. It would be easy for Sarah (and the other kids too by picking up on her example) to just make "But I can't" her life motto. After all, isn't she just the poor blind girl? Poor Sarah...

The only unfortunate thing for Sarah (and Andy, Josh, Elizabeth) is that she (and they) was/were born into the wrong family because in this family "I can't" doesn't exist. It is heard by Bob and myself as a foreign language that we do not understand.  "I can't" gets an 'oh, no you didn't' type response or maybe an 'over my dead body' one. Those words always stop me in my tracks because my kids can do anything.  I am especially sensitive when Sarah says those words because those words are the easy way out for her. Those words would absolutely work for her time and time again because people would feel pity for her, but they  wouldn't help her to make a life they would just allow her to exist and those are two completely different concepts. I will not allow her to pity herself or take the easy way out.

Sarah doesn't get a free pass in this life anymore than the rest of us do. She knows that, but I know that she will also test her boundaries to see just how much she can get away with because she's a kid. And she will get the same response from me EVERY. DAMN. TIME.

"OH. YES. YOU. CAN."

And she did. She made herself a bagel with cream cheese and cut up some strawberries for herself. I was right beside her the whole time helping to guide her and to teach her, but not once did I reach in and do it for her. She made a mess and it took a while to do, but she did it. Because she can do anything. It may take her a bit longer or the path may not be as straight as it is for a sighted person, but she will get there none-the-less.

"But I can't."  As if.