Crazy was cursed with bad genes, to be totally accurate, my bad genes. Without going into great detail, I am the carrier of a genetic condition I didn’t know existed until my son was two years old.
Being the terribly attentive parent that I am, it didn’t occur to me for a solid 2.5 years, or 30 months, or roughly 900 days give or take the crappy math I am doing in my head of knowing my son to realise he didn’t sweat. And even then, it was Hubby who pointed it out.
Regardless of how we came to know about it, it’s a challenge to keep him cool, especially as we live on the French Riviera.
Last summer, my family generously bought us cooling vests for him, two brands, two styles, two different concepts. He hated both of them. Hubby and I did our shopping around, and found yet another model that came highly recommended by others in his situation. Surprise, he hated it too.
I tried to make it cool and sewed a superman patch on it. That fooled him for roughly one afternoon. I understand where he is coming from, it sucks being different. It sucks being the only kid in shorts in March, and it sucks not being allowed to wear cool running shoes like his friends while he is stuck with lamo sandles. And for him, it super sucks to have to wear this weird looking vest that make all his friends ask questions. Unfortunately, the nice vests, the ones with some kind of style, the ones that look almost like normal clothing, yeah those ones are in adult sizes only.
He complains, refuses, pouts and generally does whatever he can to not wear his vest. Until today.
I arrived to pick him up from pre-school and found him lying on the tiled floor. This may seem odd to other parents, but to me it is the first and foremost sign that he is hot and desperately trying to cool himself down.
I will avoid expressing the thoughts I was having towards his slightly incompetent care givers, but let’s just say I was less than impressed.
When I got to him and told him it was time to go home I went against every motherly instinct I have and didn’t hug him because I didn’t want to add more heat to his system. He smiled with all the energy he had left and asked if he could wear his vest.
It broke my heart into all sorts of little pieces, but made me so grateful that he is starting to accept the little hurdles life is throwing at him. I gave him his vest and by the time we got to the car, he was his normal, happy, crazy self again. So superman and I went and played in the park.