...but it is just so hard! Of course I don't want you to be a baby anymore, and it makes me proud to watch you grow and develop, figure out who YOU are.
My mommy smarts hint at possible reasons that letting you grow up is hard.
Deep down I am probably just trying to protect you. Or maybe me? Your development is a little crazy, all over the map. Meaning, you haven't necessarily followed the typical trajectory, which is fine. It makes you unique and interesting! We have waited long, long months for you to achieve milestones, and we have celebrated all of your success! I cried the first time I saw you stand yourself up in the middle of the room.
This summer was challenging. You have the energy of a 2 year old, but until a few weeks ago you could not walk. You were limited, and it's hard to take a crawling/climbing 2 year old to the park. You wanted to play with your peers, but you were constantly being trampled. The children's museum is tough too. But we've made do, you and I. We have kept plenty busy, and you have become a walker. I couldn't be more proud of you. That was a tough milestone for me to watch you s..l...o...w...l...y achieve. As your momma, I got my hopes up time and time again. Your "delays" showed more clearly to those around you. And I just wanted you to be able to play and act like a 2 year old. We are finally getting there!! This intense need to physically protect you because I am not worried about your tiny fingers being trampled has ceased. Now I am just on the lookout for busted lips from falling.
Subconsciously maybe I am holding on to your baby stage. You are full on toddler now. I love it. I do. It is so much fun; it's pure exhaustion as well. I am ready for another baby; I am ready for you to be a big sister. We always said that you needed to be more independent before we could start the baby talk. I think you're there. It's hard though. I know lots of other moms have felt this way. I know I won't have to split my love. I know my love will just grow, but what about our alone time? How will that make you feel? And me? I know you will be an amazing big sister when that time comes.
Today was definitely one of those days when I am seeing just how grown up you are getting.
Today you....
sang parts of the chorus to Justin Bieber's "Baby"
identified 13 body parts when mom and dad asked.
requested to watch "Signing Times" and "Tasha (Backyardigans)"
walked from the front door to the garage.
took trash to the garbage can in the kitchen.
asked me to call grandma, and then located the phone to dial after I said we'd call later.
told me to "go" and "bye bye" at naptime and then put yourself to sleep, all by yourself!
brought me a diaper to change you.
picked to eat broccoli at dinner.
thanked our waitress when she brought our food at dinner.
picked out your outfit after much "hmmmmm..."ing (kinda annoying, but truly so cute!)
took of your shoes that were too small and said something that sounded like "I don't like these shoes."
laughed so hard that you tilted your head back, showing all your teeth, and slapped your leg.
picked out your new pillowcase for your new daycare.
told Ashley yes (signing) when you pointed to a pig and she said "pig."
helped push the cart at Target.
picked up and set down your cup at dinner without spilling it.
needed a night light (Momma realized you are scared of the dark).
asked me "What's that?" when I plugged in and turned on the night light.
took out your pacifier and blew me a kiss as you were putting yourself to sleep.
I could go on with so many more examples. Every day you are an amazing kid. I'm so lucky to have you in my life ladybug!
Friday, July 22, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Daycare dramas...
So I found my “birth story” on my flash drive. It needs some work; all you anxious readers will have to just wait a bit longer. When I started it initially, I was hoping to write a book some day. Maybe someday I will, but I got sidetracked. Being a working mom in grad school will do that to you. I set it aside because I had powerpoints to make and research articles to write. Last year one of my classes required us to write a “Defining Moments” paper. Naturally, that was Emery. I tweaked my birth story, took out the details, summed it up and analyzed why becoming a mom was a defining moment in my life. In my opinion it’s a strong piece of writing, but I’m trying to decide if I want to “publish” as is, or if I want to combine the two pieces of work to create one HUGE pieces of work. There are certainly advantages to both choices, as is always the case! If I combine them I may have to publish them in separate pieces, just so as not to overwhelm any readers. Combined they currently reach 9,000 words. That’s a lot, in case you were wondering!
While I was trying to make a decision about how or what to write, I was cleaning out my email inbox. Such a daunting task. I tend to keep a lot of emails that are of importance. Eventually roadrunner tells me that I’m operating at 77% capacity and I’m left to dwindle the list again. I came across several daycare emails, and I thought “This is perfect focus for tonight.”
Daycare has been an issue—from the beginning. Let me be clear. I love my job, and I’m good at it. I promise. I never wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. Then I met my daughter. Most days being away from her doesn’t overwhelm me. I know how lucky I am; I get holiday and summer breaks. I can be home fairly early most afternoons. Every once in a while, that guilt creeps up. This past August Emery started at a daycare center part time. We felt good about the arrangement. She’d be there two days a week, and she’d be home the other three. She would get the social time with her peers, and they could model age-appropriate toddler type behaviors. We wouldn’t be throwing her to the wolves, metaphorically of course, in regards to her immune system. The first week was so rough. Poor baby cried all day for the first two weeks. I felt awful; I doubted our decision. It hurt me to see her so uncomfortable and sad. But the girls working in her room were sweet. They wanted to learn about Emery and Down syndrome and how it affects her development.
Unexpectedly they were all let go. I was more than a bit surprised because Emery had come to love the place and the teachers. The director gave me her reasoning for the dramatic change in staff; it seemed legit, and I felt like she and I had a good working/professional relationship. But issues started to tiptoe into our days there. I had concerns, and while I addressed them nothing seemed to change. Emery seemed to earn an incident report or more every day she was there. Somehow the only non-walker in the room was scratching and pulling hair several times a day. I pointed out to the head teacher and director that I didn’t understand where this behavior was coming from all of a sudden. Lots of blah, blah, blah from them. I really tried to work things out, but my resentment toward the teachers in her room continued to build. It was such petty nonsense—“She scratched a teacher’s nose today.” Give me a break! Stop carrying her so much, maybe that’s A) why her walking progress has stopped and B) she’s trying to tell you to put her down, since she doesn’t have the words to do so. It was ridiculous stuff like that. We battled about it for months. It never really changed. I was irate the day they informed me that Em had more incident reports than some kids and fewer than others. Really? She was only there 16 hours a week; you mean to tell me that in 16 hours she was that much worse than other 1 year olds (at the time) who spent 40+ hours a week there. Whatever. That’s about when the reports stopped. Maybe I made my point? Two months later I was told by the director that the head teacher was reporting other families were complaining about Emery’s bullying. Meanwhile, I had watched other children knock Em over on purpose and then run away with her toy. No teachers seemed to notice. We were reaching our breaking point.
In March I popped into daycare to find an understaffed room with one teacher changing a diaper behind a half wall. Emery and two other kids were in the room. While the teacher could see, she could literally do nothing because of diaperless child and the half wall in her way. As I approached the classroom I watched, what felt like in slow motion, as Emery reached up and yanked a little girl’s hair. It was hard, and she cried. I don’t blame her. I picked up my pace to intervene, only to watch the teacher yank Emery up from the floor by her tiny little arms and yell in her face. You should have seen the look of shock when she realized I was standing right there. Immediately her tone and word choice changed. My heart sank. I was watching my biggest worry come true. You put your trust in strangers, and you just hope your babes are safe. How could I ever feel like Emery was being treated appropriately and with respect there again? I was sick to my stomach. I demanded to speak to the director, who was on a medical leave. I was so disappointed with that conversation. I understand she was in a tough spot as an employee, but I was disheartened at what she had to say to me and how she said it. She promised a meeting with her, Em’s therapists, and the classroom teachers. Five weeks later, she was still on leave, I had heard nothing from her. We pulled Emery from their care. It was tough; I wanted to believe in them. And I didn’t want to pull Em from some place she loved, but clearly they had no desire to work with me. I had become one of “those” parents; I’ve seen it before. You say the right things to her face, but when she’s not around it’s not pretty. I was not okay with them being unwilling to hear what I had to say as her mother and the expert on Ds. I did not need their excuses, so I cut my ties.
Looking back, I am sad Emery doesn’t spend two days a week with her peers, but it couldn’t have been any more right for us to leave! She has been healthy since her last day there. They were germy looking kids, and I know kids can be germy, but these kids always looked sick! Since she was finally healthy her development started to grow again. She added more ASL vocabulary; she says more words. And she’s walking, well, toddling around everywhere!
Emery’s been at home since the end of April, thanks to Auntie Ashley for all that she’s sacrificed. I am thankful for my summer break with my lovebug, and I’m even more thankful for my sister’s sacrifices to help provide care for Emery. I started looking for daycare in March, planning to start in August. Holy moly! What a headache! We needed fulltime care, and daycare centers in can be pretty pricey.
We found one daycare center that we liked and that was in our budget, and I was excited initially. Granted I had to hunt the director down because she did not return our initial phone call. I chalked it up to losing the message or being busy with end of the year stuff. No big deal; I called back. We got things squared away and scheduled a tour. They seemed a bit timid about taking on Emery’s disabilities, but I assured them she was not all that different from other kids. She was just reaching her developmental milestones at a slower pace, meaning that she’d still be on a sippy cup instead of an open cup, and that we were not even discussing potty training yet. I was told she could not move to the next room (3 year olds) until she was totally accident free. I nodded and agreed, all while laughing inside. It didn’t matter to me; truthfully, I just needed care for August through May. She will probably be going to preschool through the school district the following fall, and what did I care if she stayed with the 2 year olds for three months past her third birthday.
They had two openings, and we were third on the waitlist. One family had been on the waitlist for almost nine months, and the director did not expect them to still need care. She explained that she would call with either a yes or a no the first week in June. During the second week of June I called because I had not heard from her, do you think she has returned my call? That answer is a no. Here’s the kicker—they have another open spot in that room again to start in a few weeks. Logically speaking, say the two ahead of us accepted both spots, that means we are now first in line. Have I heard from the director? Of course not. I’m not the paranoid type, but I’m pretty certain my beautiful daughter is being discriminated against. I cannot prove it because they can always make some ridiculous excuse, of course. Just say no! Just say from the beginning you don’t think this would be a good fit. I have so much more respect for that. Blowing me off just makes me mad.
Do you think that’s the only time daycare has blown me off this summer???? We turned to in-home daycare in hopes of eliminating drama and exposure to excessive germs (5-7 kids, rather than 10+). I was in contact with four women, phone and email, who all said they had openings and wanted to meet, go over contracts, answer questions, etc. Two stopped returning emails after the initial conversation when I tried to set up a face-to-face interview. One never returned my phone call, or my email to verify she received my voicemail. The fourth lady was plain crazy!
She had an excellent website, and our first phone conversation was 40 minutes. We chatted about daycare, Emery, and her life. It was nice. She said she wanted to meet us if we thought she might be a good fit. She picked the day and time. She said more than once that she was sure she wanted to care for Em, if we’d have her. Hubby, Em, and I showed up at her place on designated day and time. As we approach the house her carport was full of junk. It was a total mess. I told Nick I was having reservations now; he calmed me. She frantically appeared at the door claiming her daughter was ill and she needed to take her to an urgent care clinic immediately. She apologized profusely for not calling in advance, but she stated she had been preoccupied with caring for her daughter. Of course we wished her well and left after she asked that I call back in a few days. In the meantime, her website disappeared. Like vanished!! No google searches were locating that bad boy. So I called three days later, but this time I called from my home phone instead of my cell phone. Not for any particular reason, but maybe subconsciously? She seemed surprised when I said who it was. She was friendly and apologetic. I asked about her website, and she said she had been doing some work to it, and would finish up that night and republish it. She selected the next date and time for another meeting. We went to her house again; this time I told Nick I had a bad feeling about it all. Her car was in the driveway with the windows down. Her door was cracked and we could hear people inside. We knocked and rang the doorbell for 15 minutes, no answer. I called her number and it was mysteriously out of order. We left, angry and annoyed. The website never reappeared, still hasn’t to this day. I told Nick it felt like a scam, except she didn’t get anything from us. Not last names, not deposit checks, zilch. It was so strange.
With these circumstances it’s hard not to feel like Emery’s extra chromosome has brought out the crazy in people. Do they think they are letting me down easy by just ignoring me? That is worse! If you are unwilling to experience something new, or understand that disabilities don’t always mean major changes, then I don’t want you watching my kid anyway. Ignoring my calls, emails, and knocks is letting yourself off the hook easy. You might think that you are trying to spare my feelings, but really, you just don’t have the courage to look me in the eye and tell me that you are discriminating against my daughter. It is easier to have respect for an individual who states up front their concerns, worries, and fears. These can be addressed. How about a trial basis? Being close-minded to my daughter, to our family—well that is something YOU have to live with!
While I was trying to make a decision about how or what to write, I was cleaning out my email inbox. Such a daunting task. I tend to keep a lot of emails that are of importance. Eventually roadrunner tells me that I’m operating at 77% capacity and I’m left to dwindle the list again. I came across several daycare emails, and I thought “This is perfect focus for tonight.”
Daycare has been an issue—from the beginning. Let me be clear. I love my job, and I’m good at it. I promise. I never wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. Then I met my daughter. Most days being away from her doesn’t overwhelm me. I know how lucky I am; I get holiday and summer breaks. I can be home fairly early most afternoons. Every once in a while, that guilt creeps up. This past August Emery started at a daycare center part time. We felt good about the arrangement. She’d be there two days a week, and she’d be home the other three. She would get the social time with her peers, and they could model age-appropriate toddler type behaviors. We wouldn’t be throwing her to the wolves, metaphorically of course, in regards to her immune system. The first week was so rough. Poor baby cried all day for the first two weeks. I felt awful; I doubted our decision. It hurt me to see her so uncomfortable and sad. But the girls working in her room were sweet. They wanted to learn about Emery and Down syndrome and how it affects her development.
Unexpectedly they were all let go. I was more than a bit surprised because Emery had come to love the place and the teachers. The director gave me her reasoning for the dramatic change in staff; it seemed legit, and I felt like she and I had a good working/professional relationship. But issues started to tiptoe into our days there. I had concerns, and while I addressed them nothing seemed to change. Emery seemed to earn an incident report or more every day she was there. Somehow the only non-walker in the room was scratching and pulling hair several times a day. I pointed out to the head teacher and director that I didn’t understand where this behavior was coming from all of a sudden. Lots of blah, blah, blah from them. I really tried to work things out, but my resentment toward the teachers in her room continued to build. It was such petty nonsense—“She scratched a teacher’s nose today.” Give me a break! Stop carrying her so much, maybe that’s A) why her walking progress has stopped and B) she’s trying to tell you to put her down, since she doesn’t have the words to do so. It was ridiculous stuff like that. We battled about it for months. It never really changed. I was irate the day they informed me that Em had more incident reports than some kids and fewer than others. Really? She was only there 16 hours a week; you mean to tell me that in 16 hours she was that much worse than other 1 year olds (at the time) who spent 40+ hours a week there. Whatever. That’s about when the reports stopped. Maybe I made my point? Two months later I was told by the director that the head teacher was reporting other families were complaining about Emery’s bullying. Meanwhile, I had watched other children knock Em over on purpose and then run away with her toy. No teachers seemed to notice. We were reaching our breaking point.
In March I popped into daycare to find an understaffed room with one teacher changing a diaper behind a half wall. Emery and two other kids were in the room. While the teacher could see, she could literally do nothing because of diaperless child and the half wall in her way. As I approached the classroom I watched, what felt like in slow motion, as Emery reached up and yanked a little girl’s hair. It was hard, and she cried. I don’t blame her. I picked up my pace to intervene, only to watch the teacher yank Emery up from the floor by her tiny little arms and yell in her face. You should have seen the look of shock when she realized I was standing right there. Immediately her tone and word choice changed. My heart sank. I was watching my biggest worry come true. You put your trust in strangers, and you just hope your babes are safe. How could I ever feel like Emery was being treated appropriately and with respect there again? I was sick to my stomach. I demanded to speak to the director, who was on a medical leave. I was so disappointed with that conversation. I understand she was in a tough spot as an employee, but I was disheartened at what she had to say to me and how she said it. She promised a meeting with her, Em’s therapists, and the classroom teachers. Five weeks later, she was still on leave, I had heard nothing from her. We pulled Emery from their care. It was tough; I wanted to believe in them. And I didn’t want to pull Em from some place she loved, but clearly they had no desire to work with me. I had become one of “those” parents; I’ve seen it before. You say the right things to her face, but when she’s not around it’s not pretty. I was not okay with them being unwilling to hear what I had to say as her mother and the expert on Ds. I did not need their excuses, so I cut my ties.
Looking back, I am sad Emery doesn’t spend two days a week with her peers, but it couldn’t have been any more right for us to leave! She has been healthy since her last day there. They were germy looking kids, and I know kids can be germy, but these kids always looked sick! Since she was finally healthy her development started to grow again. She added more ASL vocabulary; she says more words. And she’s walking, well, toddling around everywhere!
Emery’s been at home since the end of April, thanks to Auntie Ashley for all that she’s sacrificed. I am thankful for my summer break with my lovebug, and I’m even more thankful for my sister’s sacrifices to help provide care for Emery. I started looking for daycare in March, planning to start in August. Holy moly! What a headache! We needed fulltime care, and daycare centers in can be pretty pricey.
We found one daycare center that we liked and that was in our budget, and I was excited initially. Granted I had to hunt the director down because she did not return our initial phone call. I chalked it up to losing the message or being busy with end of the year stuff. No big deal; I called back. We got things squared away and scheduled a tour. They seemed a bit timid about taking on Emery’s disabilities, but I assured them she was not all that different from other kids. She was just reaching her developmental milestones at a slower pace, meaning that she’d still be on a sippy cup instead of an open cup, and that we were not even discussing potty training yet. I was told she could not move to the next room (3 year olds) until she was totally accident free. I nodded and agreed, all while laughing inside. It didn’t matter to me; truthfully, I just needed care for August through May. She will probably be going to preschool through the school district the following fall, and what did I care if she stayed with the 2 year olds for three months past her third birthday.
They had two openings, and we were third on the waitlist. One family had been on the waitlist for almost nine months, and the director did not expect them to still need care. She explained that she would call with either a yes or a no the first week in June. During the second week of June I called because I had not heard from her, do you think she has returned my call? That answer is a no. Here’s the kicker—they have another open spot in that room again to start in a few weeks. Logically speaking, say the two ahead of us accepted both spots, that means we are now first in line. Have I heard from the director? Of course not. I’m not the paranoid type, but I’m pretty certain my beautiful daughter is being discriminated against. I cannot prove it because they can always make some ridiculous excuse, of course. Just say no! Just say from the beginning you don’t think this would be a good fit. I have so much more respect for that. Blowing me off just makes me mad.
Do you think that’s the only time daycare has blown me off this summer???? We turned to in-home daycare in hopes of eliminating drama and exposure to excessive germs (5-7 kids, rather than 10+). I was in contact with four women, phone and email, who all said they had openings and wanted to meet, go over contracts, answer questions, etc. Two stopped returning emails after the initial conversation when I tried to set up a face-to-face interview. One never returned my phone call, or my email to verify she received my voicemail. The fourth lady was plain crazy!
She had an excellent website, and our first phone conversation was 40 minutes. We chatted about daycare, Emery, and her life. It was nice. She said she wanted to meet us if we thought she might be a good fit. She picked the day and time. She said more than once that she was sure she wanted to care for Em, if we’d have her. Hubby, Em, and I showed up at her place on designated day and time. As we approach the house her carport was full of junk. It was a total mess. I told Nick I was having reservations now; he calmed me. She frantically appeared at the door claiming her daughter was ill and she needed to take her to an urgent care clinic immediately. She apologized profusely for not calling in advance, but she stated she had been preoccupied with caring for her daughter. Of course we wished her well and left after she asked that I call back in a few days. In the meantime, her website disappeared. Like vanished!! No google searches were locating that bad boy. So I called three days later, but this time I called from my home phone instead of my cell phone. Not for any particular reason, but maybe subconsciously? She seemed surprised when I said who it was. She was friendly and apologetic. I asked about her website, and she said she had been doing some work to it, and would finish up that night and republish it. She selected the next date and time for another meeting. We went to her house again; this time I told Nick I had a bad feeling about it all. Her car was in the driveway with the windows down. Her door was cracked and we could hear people inside. We knocked and rang the doorbell for 15 minutes, no answer. I called her number and it was mysteriously out of order. We left, angry and annoyed. The website never reappeared, still hasn’t to this day. I told Nick it felt like a scam, except she didn’t get anything from us. Not last names, not deposit checks, zilch. It was so strange.
With these circumstances it’s hard not to feel like Emery’s extra chromosome has brought out the crazy in people. Do they think they are letting me down easy by just ignoring me? That is worse! If you are unwilling to experience something new, or understand that disabilities don’t always mean major changes, then I don’t want you watching my kid anyway. Ignoring my calls, emails, and knocks is letting yourself off the hook easy. You might think that you are trying to spare my feelings, but really, you just don’t have the courage to look me in the eye and tell me that you are discriminating against my daughter. It is easier to have respect for an individual who states up front their concerns, worries, and fears. These can be addressed. How about a trial basis? Being close-minded to my daughter, to our family—well that is something YOU have to live with!
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Movie day!
Summer break is coming to a close. I'm more than a little sad about it. I love being at home with my girl. She seems to thrive here. Daycare was a good place for her to play with her peers, but in the end, it wasn't a good situation last year. I have never seen so many constantly green, snotty noses on toddlers. Besides being sick all fall and winter (from August to April to be exact), I can't be certain Em was treated appropriately there. Being sick really took its toll on my poor girl. She spent so much energy trying to fight off her constant infections that her development really slowed. When you spend 8 months coughing, on antibiotics, and taking 5 daily breathing treatments, how can you learn to walk?
Since she's been home she's been healthy. Not one single cough, ear infection, cold. NADA!! It's been much needed. Needless to say her development has picked back up, which is awesome. So to celebrate we took her to see Rio today. How stinkin cute!! The movie was adorable too. Oh she laughed! And she danced! And when the birds fell she screamed "Oh no!!" She covered her eyes; she smacked her leg while giggling. She asked for more popcorn...using speech!!!!
I love my job, but I love my girl more! Going back to work is going to be so hard! I am grateful for every second I get with her--even on days that I cannot wait til naptime!
Since she's been home she's been healthy. Not one single cough, ear infection, cold. NADA!! It's been much needed. Needless to say her development has picked back up, which is awesome. So to celebrate we took her to see Rio today. How stinkin cute!! The movie was adorable too. Oh she laughed! And she danced! And when the birds fell she screamed "Oh no!!" She covered her eyes; she smacked her leg while giggling. She asked for more popcorn...using speech!!!!
I love my job, but I love my girl more! Going back to work is going to be so hard! I am grateful for every second I get with her--even on days that I cannot wait til naptime!
Monday, July 18, 2011
Do I start at the beginning?
I have a birth story written, well most of one at least. Birth stories seem to be where a lot of us start; it's trendy. You know what else is trendy? Blogging. And blogging for a cause.
I haven't decided where I want this blog to go yet. I haven't decided how private or public I want to make this. Do I want to post it on facebook for all my friends and family to see? I'm certainly not fearful of judgment. Maybe I'm afraid nobody cares what I have to say or write? That is a good possibility. What I do know is that I have loved writing since I was a child. Writing helps me process my array of emotions on any given day. The process of expelling words to "paper" is cathartic to me, always has been.
I don't know where my posts will take me. I don't know if I'll write daily. Will I write about my life? Yep. Will I write about my sassy daughter? You can count on it. Will I write about Down syndrome? Absolutely. What I do know is that for the last 19 months I have been in school nearly full time on top of working full time and being a wife and mommy! Classes are done and graduation is days away. My hubby says "you've got nervous energy," but I like to think that I spent the last two years writing educationally. It's time to write for me.
So, let's discuss the elephant in the room. Quite possibly, for some of you, it's why you are here. My amazing daughter who happens to be the light of my life also has Trisomy21 (Down syndrome). She is 2, full of sass, and all things girl! You should see her carry her purses around! Here's the deal. I did not pick this life. I did not ask for my daughter to have a disability, but she does. And I do not love her because of her disability, nor do I love her despite her disability. I love her because she's mine. I will most definitely share our life for any readers I accumulate along the way. I will advocate for her and for others with Down syndrome with a fierceness you might not expect from me. There are so many avenues to discuss and share. I by no means want to shove Down syndrome down your throats, but there will be many days it will be the topic I choose. It is a major aspect of our lives, but that is because Emery is the most important accomplishment I've ever achieved. One day, when there are more babes running around this house, maybe I'll have other things to discuss--sibling rivalry, insurmountable piles of laundry, etc.
For right now, my hope is that you read and maybe learn, that inaccuracies are corrected, that questions get answered, and that you enjoy "The Adventures of Ladybug Girl" and her momma!
I haven't decided where I want this blog to go yet. I haven't decided how private or public I want to make this. Do I want to post it on facebook for all my friends and family to see? I'm certainly not fearful of judgment. Maybe I'm afraid nobody cares what I have to say or write? That is a good possibility. What I do know is that I have loved writing since I was a child. Writing helps me process my array of emotions on any given day. The process of expelling words to "paper" is cathartic to me, always has been.
I don't know where my posts will take me. I don't know if I'll write daily. Will I write about my life? Yep. Will I write about my sassy daughter? You can count on it. Will I write about Down syndrome? Absolutely. What I do know is that for the last 19 months I have been in school nearly full time on top of working full time and being a wife and mommy! Classes are done and graduation is days away. My hubby says "you've got nervous energy," but I like to think that I spent the last two years writing educationally. It's time to write for me.
So, let's discuss the elephant in the room. Quite possibly, for some of you, it's why you are here. My amazing daughter who happens to be the light of my life also has Trisomy21 (Down syndrome). She is 2, full of sass, and all things girl! You should see her carry her purses around! Here's the deal. I did not pick this life. I did not ask for my daughter to have a disability, but she does. And I do not love her because of her disability, nor do I love her despite her disability. I love her because she's mine. I will most definitely share our life for any readers I accumulate along the way. I will advocate for her and for others with Down syndrome with a fierceness you might not expect from me. There are so many avenues to discuss and share. I by no means want to shove Down syndrome down your throats, but there will be many days it will be the topic I choose. It is a major aspect of our lives, but that is because Emery is the most important accomplishment I've ever achieved. One day, when there are more babes running around this house, maybe I'll have other things to discuss--sibling rivalry, insurmountable piles of laundry, etc.
For right now, my hope is that you read and maybe learn, that inaccuracies are corrected, that questions get answered, and that you enjoy "The Adventures of Ladybug Girl" and her momma!
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