Taking A Break From MS With Cocomelon
My daughter recently became the Godmother of an adorable 1-year-old. Suddenly, I was reintroduced to the world of sippy cups, diapers, busy fingers, wandering little feet - and introduced to the newest wave that the babies love to watch, including Netflix's Cocomelon.
Popular in my household for my children were good ole' Sesame Street, Barney, Doug and Lambchop then several years later, Syd The Science Kid, Word World, Little Einstein, Cailou, and Handy Manny. The lighthearted shows may span the years, but what they have in common are the ease of the world in them and in the lives of their young audiences.
They all feature cute little everyday adventures, toe-tapping little songs, fun ways to learn the basics, and exploring simple things of the world, their world.
Intrigued by the uncomplicated lives
As I watched the little one happily watching an episode of Cocomelon whilst holding his little cup, dancing and spouting his baby talk to the television, I couldn't help but reflect on the uncomplicated lives of the characters who happily entertained him from beyond the television screen.
They're able to be oblivious to a world dealing with personal challenges, societal issues, and worldly woes, such as respectively, managing chronic illnesses, crime, political controversy, and the effects of a pandemic.
Comparing to my life with MS
Living with multiple sclerosis has made me so much more reflective. I often see things in life that I liken to my current journey - even kid shows. That's why living the life that the characters 'live' in those little shows - singing their cute little songs, playing their little fun games, skipping and holding hands until the next episode - makes me think of how complex my life is in stark contrast.
You'd like an example? Because of MS, I need to carefully position my own foot that I can't really feel in order to stand up safely. Let's not forget the very specific planning and preparation involved in going to a simple doctor's visit. The spontaneity of my life is minimal to none. And carefree, whimsical actions and activities? Forget it. I need to consider and pay very close attention to every move in my daily life both literally and figuratively.
A happy alternate reality
I'd be happy to shed my own assistive devices to be a friend to a big, purple dinosaur and lovingly sing 'I love you, you love me…' while dancing about the playground. I think a day or two of downing hoards of cookies with the Cookie Monster would be more fun than dealing with spastic legs.
Instead of wondering about what unpredictability from MS is lingering, I'd rather be hanging with Sid and his gang finding the answer to why bananas get brown spots. Fixing little things with Handy Manny and his talking tools, Turner the screwdriver, and Dusty the saw, would be an awesome distraction from exacerbations, flares, and pain. And, alas, daily 'partying' to nursery rhythms with the little fella, JJ and his pals would be much less strenuous than living with the limitations MS rains upon me.
Finding joy in what I do have
Alas, the alternate reality I've created for myself does not exist. I'm thinking I'll continue to enjoy what I do get to experience in life. This includes time spent with family and friends, reading, writing, music, and outings with my children and my fur-baby. They are areas that bring me peace and happiness and reprieves in their own right. Especially in the midst of living with MS and other adversities.
From time to time, I can still live vicariously, through this dear little one and we enjoy singing along to episodes of Cocomelon.
How do you feel before getting an MRI done?