The big purple ball I used to exercise Addison deflated. I dunked it in the pool in search of holes but couldn’t get it to stay under water. I brought it to the tire expert guy down the street. He got it inflated, but the air only lasted a week. I received a new nozzle, which also failed. I originally brought the over-sized thing down from the States when I was pregnant in hopes of birthing on it or at least stretching my back. I did neither of those things since non-stop contractions made my pregnancy a “sit down only” affair and the thought of going anywhere near a ball as I suffered through labor would have made me hurt anyone in shouting or kicking distance.

When I bought the purple ball in a Pilotes kit at 4 months pregnant, little did I know it would become such an important exercise tool for my son who would have Down Syndrome. The nannies and I gave it our best effort to use the squishy thing, but Addison kind of sunk into it. Plus he protested a lot.

I passed an exercise store in a strip mall called Plaza itzcatzu and saw huge, inflated balls inside. The kind man in the store was fluent in English. Addison tried out the tread mill and flirted with the entire sale staff by blowing them kisses while I decided on my purchase. As I continued to talk, I told this man how sometimes I get judged because my son doesn’t walk alone yet. Most of the time I pay “no-never-mind” but there are moments I have a harder time shaking it off.

My nephew didn’t walk until he was three and one-half. There was nothing wrong with him, he told me.

It was just something nice to hear. A bonus that came with the big red ball. The ball barely fit in my two-door car. Once in the living room it looked right at home beneath the shadow of our mother earth lamp looming in the distance. One can never have enough orbs floating around.