My kids call him Helmet Head. It’s cute, really. He’s almost 10 months old and the helmet is a shade of sky that accurately represents a spirit just as serene. He wears it well, doesn’t mind, forgives the awkward attempts to take it off or put it on, and returns smiles for smiles, and smiles for stares.
We almost didn’t do it.
There is something right and good about not fixing every flaw on a body-an important piece of self love that grows up in a child and has everything to do with what we tell them. This was the conversation we had about the shape of our son’s head, about the position of his ears.
It’s called positional plageocephaly, which is the flattening of the head from being in the same position consistently. It happens for many reasons, and those need to be addressed before making a corrective decision. It’s true with most problems, you know? There’s the root, and there’s the show.
As mothers we delve down near the root and begin there, beneath the surface, allowing growth to be unhindered by bulky interventions.
It felt like an important decision. As usual, my fears surfaced, exhilarated to be let out of their dark lair. Would it crush his spirit? Will people think I’m vain? Does it even work? In the end it came down to that thing that makes a mother willing to do just about anything for the health and happiness of her kids-it’s what was best for him.
I think.
And that’s what I do, only what I think is best. My decisions are a showing of my best efforts of love and conscientious parenting. The helmet is such a small thing in a world this big, but marks a season of my life that threatened to trap me with fear. The helmet is nothing, harmless, but it’s the unknown that leaves a mark. For me, the string of appointments, tests, tilted heads that led us to this piece of plastic elevated the decision in my heart.
It’s blue like a clear day, and that is what we make of it most days. It seems to be helping, so says the lady with the crazy cranial contraption. The helmet, as an unexpected perk, has drawn the most non-sensical comments, suppositions, and inquiries, which happily affirm my decision for the humor alone.
He’s noticed a lot in the blue helmet, and something about that feels right. He’s quiet, reserving smiles for when he is seen, but often overlooked in a crowded, noisy house.
I don’t know if you have a talent for picking names for your kids, or if they just grow into their names.
What a perfect name for a sunny little boy.
Don’t you find that Parenthood is so much about making difficult decisions? You are such a good mother, and I enjoy reading about you and your kids.
Skye is so precious, adorable and loved.
Beautiful – just like he is!