Tea Time and Screen Time

When I visit my sister and her family in Eastern Washington, my nephews and I tend to take advantage of a mutually beneficial arrangement.  The weather there is often far too hot for my delicate sensibilities, while my nephews are the victims of good parenting and are only allowed restricted quantities of screen time for playing video games.  Ergo, we spend extra time playing video games together.  While Loa gets to escape from the oppressive heat into the air conditioning, because I am "watching" them play video games as a source of entertainment, my nephews score extra playtime.

"And also tea; that is a very important part."

While visiting last summer we were getting settled in my nephew's bedroom for the second day in a row of our antics, when their mom started quizzing them on the appropriate response if I need anything.  In case you were wondering, the answer is stop playing right away and go get a grown-up.  Hence, she went through various scenarios of things I might need, asking what each of them would do.  When she got to Porter, the youngest, he interrupted, piping up with, "and also tea; that is a very important part."  Naturally he charmed us both with his very candid addendum.  He had enjoyed being able to give me tea throughout the visit, as I kept it in an enclosed travel mug, rather than my standard open giant teacup.

Porter's earnest inclusion of my drink of choice in the list of things the boys needed to be responsible for, in order for us to be able to hide away inside while the rest of the adults melted in the desert heat, made it very obvious just how well my little nephews know me.  They undoubtably enjoy the extra screen time, but they also appreciate the opportunity to spend time with me alone in their space, which does not happen in Western Washington where I am unable to access their upstairs bedrooms.  In the end it comes back to how my nephews are so much more accustomed to my altered condition than I am, even after all these years.  Given that I have been paralyzed since prior to their births, they see it and accept it as something that just is.  That does not mean that they do not wish that reality could be different than what it is, it simply means that they regard caring for me as something that is as natural as breathing.

Porter proudly offering me tea.

One might think that it would be easy to take on a sense of guilt over the fact that my very young nephews are forced into the role of caregivers.  The way that my spinal cord injury has shaped them into particularly caring and compassionate people is one of the things that makes it hard to regret the outcome of my accident.  They are far more in tune with the needs of those around them than most children their age, perhaps even more so than many adults.  They have been praised by teachers for their compassion, kindness, and empathy towards their fellow classmates.  I know that this is mostly a result of the amazing parenting they have, for my sister is one of the most compassionate people I know, but I do believe their exposure to my situation has given them a different perspective and has helped shape them into particularly kind souls.