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I don’t deal with my own emotions well. I have never been a person who tells people I am mad at them. That I need help. I am a little more open when it comes to feelings of love or caring. But even these I have to practice. The flip side to this coin is that I am very good at lightening the mood. I can sense the tension in a room and find a way to make people laugh.
My poison of choice is self-deprecating humor. I am very good at it. Countless doctors, specialists, coworkers, and parents have told me that they appreciate my ability to laugh and lighten the mood.
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This doesn’t mean that I am fine. In fact, for those who know me best, the more I make you laugh, the worse I feel. My own anxiety is probably higher. I am drowning in my problems. Ultimately, I may feel almost completely and utterly hopeless. The action of making other people laugh helps avoid the tricky questions I hate answering. How are you doing is my most dreaded. If other people are laughing because of you, they assume you are fine.
Make them laugh
I made lots of people laugh when we first had Roses. My go-to joke was that God knew what He was doing when He made me Roses’ mom. Because I am so loud, she can hear me fine.
I am loud, always have been. I know how to project my voice clearly. People never tell me to speak up. This served me well on my high school speech team, and as a teacher. Speaking loudly also has served me well as a parent of DHH kids. But the joke hid the other question I was asking myself. Why me, why did God give me this burden?
Selfishly I could only think about how much more work my daughter was than other children. Oh, your kid had a blowout before you left and that’s why you’re late? My kid yanked out her hearing aid and tossed it in the snow. I had to search, gloveless because it is easier to feel things that way. Trying to find a tiny piece of equipment she needs to pretend she is normal. That’s why I’m late.
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I kept these frustrations hidden. I wanted my daughter’s early memories to be that her hearing loss was no big deal, and hey, look at how cool your new earmolds are.
This made my sense of humor even more necessary.
Curiosity can be funny
The cashier might say it was a great idea that I put earplugs in my daughter’s ears. That way the noise at Target didn’t bother her. I would laugh and say, oh those are her hearing aids. Now that you say that, it is a really great idea for my next visit!
What are those things in your baby’s ears? I would answer in my best big bad wolf impression. Why, those are her hearing aids, the better to hear you with.
Your daughter has such cute earrings! Thanks, they’re actually hearing aids. I am glad to hear you think they are cute.
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Okay, sometimes I was less funny than others. Later I might giggle about the questions with my husband and close friends. A great way to deflect the pain I felt every time someone noticed my daughter was different.
Hearing aids aren’t a four-letter word
My favorite was when my daughter was in preschool. We were waiting to drop off our kids and another mother leaned over and whispered to me. I didn’t know your daughter wore hearing aids. I whispered back. I know her hair covers them normally. They’re so great she can even hear us whispering.
Personally, I think people try too hard to avoid talking about the elephant in the room. My kids wear hearing aids. We raised them to think of them like glasses. Their dad, grandpa, aunts, and uncles all wear glasses and no one asks about them. People can’t see well without glasses if they need them. Roses and Dino can’t hear well without hearing aids. It is that simple. They aren’t weird. They are a tool that helps with a disability that is often unseen at first glance.
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Kids are open
I love when children ask me questions. They don’t sugarcoat it. They just ask what is in my kids’ ears. I always answered them with honesty. I didn’t need to hide behind my humor. They are hearing aids so my kids can hear just like you. When Dino was born, Roses took it upon herself to start answering the questions. When people asked, grownup or kid alike, she answered just like we had shown her. With kindness and a straightforward explanation.
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Kids think hearing aids are cool. Dino loves showing off his new earmolds. When Roses was younger, she got to pick someone every day at school to help her check her hearing aids. Not necessary, but the other kids thought it was so cool.
Just a piece of the picture
Sometimes we allow our young children to believe that their differences are too big. Even if we think this is true, I don’t think it is helpful. I believe that our children will never be able to rise above their disability unless we show them how. A disability is a piece of the puzzle, not the whole picture. The piece might seem large, but it alone won’t tell us what we see.
We taught our kids that they need hearing aids. They shouldn’t be ashamed. It isn’t a big deal. Now that Roses is getting older, we are starting to have some of the tougher conversations. About the choices, we made in her treatment as a child. She wishes we had learned sign language. She also says sometimes it does really stink to be different. We remind her that everybody has something. Having built a foundation on humor and support she knows that even though sometimes she really hates her hearing loss, she is going to be okay. And when she doesn’t feel okay, we are here to help her laugh and remember the humor.
