Wednesday, October 31, 2012

A doll and a skunk

Confession:
I'm not a big fan of holidays now that I have little kids. Because whatever big effort I put in is appreciated only by me. They're all like "oh hey, another day!" and then they destroy the house behind my back while I spend hours on a detailed craft the size of my hand that will later get chewed on and then thrown into the bathtub.

And despite my best efforts, I couldn't manage to pull together matching outfits for the kiddos. Nope. 

I did manage to dress them up in their VERY non-coordinating for music class this morning (we might have had a bit of fun with Addison's costume before leaving)
little Miss Addison HATED her hat and wig...here's her pose saying "YUP, just another day to rock out at music class"
 Raggedy Ann knows how to SHAKE it.
 And oh boy this looks like trouble:
 Carter had the cutest costume in the world (from Grandma) that turned out to be nearly impossible to capture the cuteness in a photo.
 I tried.
When it comes to holidays, I like to dress the kids in seasonal wear;
eat extra sweets;
 and have extra moments of silliness;
but I am not super-mom-exploding-each-holiday-into-a-huge-ordeal. I am just a stay at home mom making it through another day. No, we're not going trick or treating (it's TOO COLD for Addison who has a slight cough), no I didn't throw a costume party (my house is TOO MESSY), and no I'm not handing out candy tonight (no one EVER comes to my house because it's too far off the road). 

Just a normal day around here. (It's a possibility that I might be related somehow to the Grinch)

(Oh what? The story? I would apologize, but telling stories is one of my FAVORITE things to do...did we not cover that already?) (-:

This is the last day of Down syndrome awareness month. I have blogged every single day of this month- sometimes about Down syndrome; sometimes about just life in general. If you missed any of the posts, check out the right hand sidebar and feel free to do some reading. (-:

Meanwhile? I might take a few days off to let my word supply replenish. NOT to lie to you again like yesterday's post. I promise. I only lie once a year (does no one remember last year's post?)

I want to thank you for being so awesome. For reading, commenting, sharing, and just generally being spectacular. This has been a good month- because of you. So thank you. I'll be back soon...just not tomorrow! (-:

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

The night I will never forget

Last night we were on hurricane watch. We expected high winds, a lot of rain, perhaps a loss of power. But what actually happened last night....well, I don't think I'll ever forget it.

It all started at 1:30am. I know what time it was because I sleep with my phone on my night stand. And as soon as I hear one of my children start to stir, I grab my phone and check my email while I wait for them to settle back in (how did the pioneer women do this WITHOUT EMAIL ON THEIR PHONE?)

At 1:30am, Carter started to make some noise, so I was awake and piddling around on my phone. When his slight whining began to escalate into a frantic I'm-going-to-wake-up-Addison cry, I reluctantly pushed aside my heavy comforter and shivered when the cold night air hit me.

Moving as quickly as possible, but in a half-asleep sort of way, I stumbled over a stuffed animal that Addison left perched against my dresser. I breathed a short sigh of thankfulness that it wasn't a Lego embedded in the small of my foot (like last time).

Carter started crying even harder.

I walked swiftly down the hallway toward the kitchen shaking from the cold and wishing that I had grabbed a sweatshirt on my way by my closet. The wind outside sounded like it was starting to pick up, and for a minute I felt like it was calling my name "Deanna. Deeeeeeaaaaannnnaaa"

Ridiculous nature of my imagination firmly pushed aside, I continued on my errand to find a bottle of milk for my apparently starving son.

As I passed through the Living Room, a light from traffic shone right into the front of my house, and out of the corner of my eye I saw something moving on our front deck. A shadow? I couldn't really tell, and the light faded quickly so I kept moving. It was probably whatever animal ate trash off of the back deck whenever I forgot it out there. Or perhaps the wind blew in something from the street.

Stumbling at long last into the kitchen, I grabbed a clean bottle, put a little milk in it but then filled it up the rest of the way with water, feeling guilty that my fourteen month old was still requiring an occasional night feeding.

I walked back to the Living Room, faced out toward the front of the house, and looked back out onto the deck. I stood still for a minute holding the bottle and contemplating my guilt. Carter was quiet for a second (of course he WOULD be going back to sleep now), and I think I fell asleep on my feel for just a minute. Either that or I just gave into the shivering and started the slow process of freezing to death.

Another set of headlights chose that moment to flash into my house, and the brightness snapped me back to attention, but then I quickly wish it hadn't. The wind continued to howl, and I heard the rain pick up pace, but I was no longer paying attention to the weather.

My hand holding the bottle went numb, so it fell to the ground. The full bottle burst and slowly began seeping onto the floor underfoot. My mouth gaped with shock. Every nerve in my body snapped to attention, and my last vestige of sleepiness disappeared. I wanted to run, but I couldn't even move.

Facing the front door with the large oval window that I picked out a few years ago, I saw something that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

A face in the window. Staring back at me.

It was quickly dark again, and I started to run away from the living room towards our room. Carter must have heard me because he started screaming again. Harder. Longer. With more urgency. Was someone- in his room? The wind increased dramatically with a wail sufficient enough to be Carter's duet partner.

"Aaron" I hissed, flinging myself into our bedroom, stumbling over the same stuffed animal that I forgot to move the first time around.

"AARON. GET YOUR GUN." I started shaking him, but he lay still; comatose; drooling onto my pillow.

In true "nighttime parenting" fashion, he would not be roused. I fumbled for his gun case, wishing that I had taken him up on one of those dates at the shooting range so that I would know what to do with this black piece of plastic.

"WAKE UP." I elbowed him (with the arm NOT holding the gun) "Where are your bullets?"

He mumbled something about the irrigation system going bad, and then he rolled over. Carter's screams shot up another octave while an ominous roll of thunder joined the chorus. There was no time.

I held the gun at an arm's length in front of me like I saw on that new Charlie's Angel's show that they canceled after only a few awesome episodes and walked back down the hallway toward the living room.

I was trembling. My heart was racing. I tried to hold my breath so that man couldn't hear me coming back, but when my foot caught on an errant block, kicking it the length of the hallway with toddler-loud elegance, I knew that sneaking around was futile.

Finally back in the dark living room, I reached over with one arm and turned on the one lamp that didn't have a burnt out bulb (curses for forgetting to go to the hardware store and buy light bulbs), and slowly I turned back toward the window.

A stern face framed by silver hair was still staring through the window. Rain was dripping from his his forehead onto his nose, but he didn't lift a hand to wipe it away.

"I'VE GOT A GUN!" I yelled, trying to sound convincing that I had bullets too.

His thin lips pressed into small smirk and then quickly returned to a tightened glare, matching the squinting of his black eyes. Other than that quick motion he didn't move. He just stood there. A bolt of lightening lit up the nightscape behind him, showing me what I already knew. No one was out there to help me.

"What do you want?" I asked, feeling the milk from the spilled bottle start to trickle down by my bare feet and feeling fear that Carter was suddenly quiet again. "Deeeeeeaaaaannnnnaaaaa" the wind howled.

I saw him raise one hand and grab the doorknob. I breathed a sigh of relief that at least the door was locked. I know for a fact that I checked this doorknob ten times before going to bed (it's kind of an obsession) just a few hours ago.

But now I saw it easily turning, and the door swung open until the only thing between us was open space. Well, that and the gun that didn't have any bullets that I was still holding an arms length in front of me.

My phone. Where's my phone? I need to call 911. But in true pioneer woman fashion, I no longer had a cell phone. I had no idea where I left it during my stumble to the kitchen.

He just stood there in the doorway, his smirk returning. A smell of rotten eggs combined with sewer rot combined with body odor wafted toward me.

"AARON!" I screamed. No response. I silently cursed my nighttime terrors habit because no doubt Aaron assumed that this was just another nightmare.

The intruder stepped up into the house in slow motion, and I noticed for the first time how tall he was. Easily over six foot, he was solid and looked to be built of solid muscle. I wished that I had been taking Karate instead of Zumba these past few months.

I waved the gun at him as if I was going to vaporize him with the motion. It had no effect whatsoever.

He took a step toward me, putting his hand in his pocket. Just then I heard a tiny pitter patter of feet in the hallway. NO.

I turned and saw Carter in his green and brown sleeper, toddling towards me with a smile on his face. "Ma-ma" he said. How did he get out of his crib? Was someone else already in the house?

"No, Carter. STOP." But he ignored me, just like he ignored me the other 100 times that day.

"Go get your Daddy." I hissed.

"Da-da" He obediently said, but he kept running toward me. His beautiful face was smiling and his arms were held out for me to scoop him up like I always do. I wondered if this was the last time I would get to see that smile.

I glanced back at the white haired man and saw something shiny glint at his side. Did he- did he have a knife?

He was closer now. A few more steps and I could almost reach out and touch him. The smell of rotteness was overwhelming. I fought against extreme nausea and dizziness.

"Please. Please don't hurt my baby" I must have said, but I'm not sure how because my jaw was clenched shut from fear.

"Ma-ma" Carter chirped. "Deeeeeeeaaaaannnnnaaa" the wind was now whispering. I heard Addison randomly shout "SIGNING TIME" in her sleep. Curses that she got the sleep-talking gene from me. But still no sound from Aaron.

The next ten seconds stretched into a lifetime. I remembered all of the bad that I had ever done, and I wished that I had cherished the good with more fervency.

Carter reached me, noticed the stranger, and decided that this new guy looked more promising than Mommy. The wind started whipping rain into the house just as Carter ran towards him with a smile.

"NO Carter. NO!" I screamed, but my screams only made him run faster.

The unwelcome visitor smiled at Carter, a slow smile of pure evil. I had a Criminals Minds thought that perhaps he collected eyes and was pleased with Carter's gorgeous blue ones.

I forced my frozen legs to move toward Carter. To throw myself in front of him so that my little boy could somehow get away. But just then, the stranger picked Carter up and turned away from me.

WHAT WAS HE DOING TO MY BABY????

I saw another glint of silver, and I knew the worst as about to happen. Forcing myself to MOVE TOWARD THEM FASTER, I saw a handful of shiny objects fall to the floor. With one smooth motion from the man, Carter was now on the floor gathering them. I looked closer and saw miniature Three Musketeers bars.

Just as my son was about to eat the poison candy and those smelly hands of steel were about to reach around my throat, I closed my eyes and whispered

"Happy Halloween"


Monday, October 29, 2012

A necklace and a book

Our last giveaway honoring Down syndrome awareness month includes two items that are very closely related to Down syndrome. And we have two sponsors, and therefore- two giveaway items! (Read, I was supposed to do one last week and one this week but I got a bit off of schedule)

Without further ado, the giveaway items...
The first one is this beautiful necklace from Ollie Faith designs. This is the official necklace of IDSC for life that I have been secretly (or not so secretly) coveting ever since I first saw it. t21 stands for Trisomy 21 (Down syndrome), the yellow and blue beads are the "official" colors of Down syndrome, and of course the life stands for LIFE. You can also get another square added with a child's name on it (like ADDISON) personalizing it a little bit more. 
Note: the added square with the child's name on it is not part of the giveaway, but you're welcome to purchase that yourself.

Even if you don't have a loved one with Down syndrome, I think this would still make an awesome piece of jewelry. When anyone asks you what it stands for, you can start with "Well, this necklace is an artsy way to say that children with Down syndrome deserve LIFE"....and if you end up talking about a little girl named Addison from a certain blog...well then my work here is complete.
The second giveaway item (sponsored by S&D Landscapes) is a book that someone sent to me right after I received Addison's prenatal diagnosis. I'll admit it sat unread most of my pregnancy because I was too busy crying and feeling sorry for myself to do any reading. But in that last month of pregnancy, I finally cracked it open and found great comfort in the stories shared here. 

Gifts is truly an incredible book- sharing a variety of stories from families handling the same news very different ways.
And the third item isn't a giveaway item, but I just wanted to announce that my ebook Dreams Change will be free Tuesday and Wednesday, the last two days of Down syndrome awareness month. This ebook was my way of summarizing my journey from those days in pregnancy when I felt so sorry for the "burden" I had been stuck with to the joyful life that I have now with my beautiful little girl. This ebook is a very personal one- full of pain and very honest emotions, and it is not a memoir...just a record from a very difficult time. When I read it now, I can barely believe the things that I thought and said. But I'm glad that I recorded it all because maybe someone is looking at how happy I am with Addison now thinking that I couldn't possibly understand what she's going through with a new diagnosis. Believe me. I was there once too. 

So there you have it. There will be TWO winners to this giveaway. The first randomly drawn winner will win the necklace. The second randomly drawn winner will win the book. And anyone can download a free copy of my ebook Dreams Change in the next two days.

Thank you for celebrating Down syndrome awareness month with me! Two more days left and this blog challenge is complete!

Now...ENTER the giveaway. (-:
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, October 28, 2012

from Carter

Hello all,

Carter here. I heard Mommy say something about being tired of talking on the blog every day and how she was happy about it soon being November when some sort of blog challenge is done?

Anyhoo, being the loving son that I am, I climbed up onto the Dining Room table, located Mommy's computer, and enjoyed a tall glass of apple cider while deciding to talk to you today so she could get a break. (I only spilled half the glass on her computer's keyboard. SUCCESS!)

Last night I was supposed to spend the night at Papa and Grandma's house, but I couldn't BELIEVE that my parents expected me to actually fall asleep somewhere other than my crib. The nerve. So of course I kept forcing up vomit at random intervals until Grandma had no clean sheets left and Mommy and Daddy HAD to pick me up and take me home.

There's a solution to every problem.
 Speaking of problems, Mommy seems to have some sort of issue with my superior climbing skills. Yesterday, I scaled both couches, the bookcase in the living room, the Dishwasher, Addison's dresser, Daddy's Ditch Witch (see above), the steps leading up to the bathtub, and a stack of tools that Daddy so thoughtfully left in the living room. And then, instead of telling me what a good climbing job I was doing, Mommy said that dirty little "n" word- NO. Can you  believe it?
 This was me after I was falsely accused of eating some blue chalk. Sometimes chalk just disappears.  How does she not already know this?
 Sometimes I feel like the world is out to get me. See above where I'm sweeping up the Living Room? It's OBVIOUS that I was helping clean up the mess. Right? Sure the broom doubles as a sword and Addison didn't seem to care for it swatting her in the face, but that was no reason to say that two letter N word again. NOT A GOOD REASON.
I thought Daddy was listening to my side of the story, until Addison had to charm him with a hug. That Addison. Why did I have to get such a charming sister? I'm NEVER going to win these arguments.
 I like to play. A lot. Throwing myself into a good playing situation is my thing. I heard Mommy say something about me "playing rough" and keeping track of time according to my "play time" injuries.

I don't know what she's talking about. I think it's pretty obvious that I'm a dare-devil  brave teenager in a toddler's body. I'm just waiting for my tiny frame (and coordination) to catch up with my mad skills.

This was a successful frame pull down:
This was a trip into the fireplace during Addison's Speech Therapy:
 And this was when I had an intimate encounter with the sidewalk at the Buddy Walk.
Badges of honor, really.
OK, I gotta go. Time to go force some fake tears so that Mommy will think that Addison stole my chocolate cookie again so that I can get another one. This face ought to do:
Yup.Works every time.

until next time,
Carter

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Chapter 38


This is an excerpt from No Guarantees

CHAPTER 38
Lila
“Do you ever regret your abortion?”

I stared into Tonya’s dark eyes as I sought answers. We had been friends for long enough so I could usually read emotion and sometimes even thoughts through the window of her expressive eyes. We hadn’t covered this particular subject in such a context before because I had been afraid of offending her- hurting her more than she had already been hurt. I didn’t want to cause her pain, and we weren’t surrounded by the support of the playgroup, but today my need-to-know trumped all else. Her eyes, darker even than usual, weren’t giving anything away.

At first I thought she wasn’t going to answer me, and I opened my mouth to take it back. I thought that she was a close enough friend that we could talk about this honestly, but navigating new waters always runs the risk of rejection.

One lone tear slowly made passage down her carefully made up cheek. Because she ducked her head before answering, I almost missed her whispered response.

“Every day.”

Seeming to gain confidence after a minute, she grabbed both of my hands, looked through me to I don’t know what and said it again.

“I regret it every day. When I make my morning smoothie, I wonder if that baby would have someday liked protein-enhanced smoothies as much as I do. When I go to get Charlotte up after a long night of sleep, I wonder if that baby would have smiled at me as sweetly as Charlotte does to be up and playing. When I dress Charlotte in her cute little clothes, I wonder if that other little girl would have loved pretty things as much as Charlotte and I do.  When I watch Charlotte play with her toys with such happiness and glee, I wonder if that other baby would have been just as happy to play with toys. Every day I think about what maybe that baby would be like now. I google pictures of children with Down syndrome, and I lean in close to those almond shaped eyes and see life and joy. I wonder if I could have had some of that joy in my life, but I missed my chance. I regret eliminating it simply because of a defect and because I was scared. I wanted a baby more than anything. I just didn’t want one with a diagnosis. But now, every day I agonizingly wonder- what she would have been like, what she would be doing, could I have loved her?”

“Do you- do you think you could have?” I asked, desperately needing to hear her answer.

“At first I was convinced that it would be impossible, but the more time separates me from the grief, I think maybe yes. I drown in guilt because I didn’t even giving that baby a chance. I love Charlotte despite her deepest flaws because she’s mine- and she’s so much like me. I wonder if the other baby would have been like me at all?”

She paused, took a deliberate sip of her coffee, and appeared to be holding something back. When we tried poker for entertainment one playgroup not so long ago, Tonya gave away every hand with the tilt of her eyebrow and the “I have a secret” smirk of her lips. Today was no exception.

Like so many other times, we were sitting on pristine furniture, holding large cups of coffee, and speaking fervently to each other about our concerns and the current chapter of our life drama. But unlike so many other times, I felt like a different person than the one that used to sit and argue about vacations and which bag really fit all the baby essentials in it and whether or not that haircut was a good look for Jennifer Aniston.

I looked down at the mug that my hands were wrapped around. When we first sat down with our coffee, steam was slowly rising from the cup. The slight wisps disappeared into room air shortly after leaving the confines of the pottery-like mug, and I wondered for the first time of my coffee-drinking career where exactly they went. Is that what it looks like when happiness departs from your life? You barely see the tiny trails of white mist and then it all disappears before you can really even try? Before long, you’re standing there holding a cup of stone cold coffee wondering what happened to the warm brew that you were counting on soothing your raw throat. Is happiness that fleeting? Was the coffee sending the steam into room air, or was the room air stealing the steam from the coffee? And in life does happiness leave you or is it stolen from you?

“Lila”

Startled, I tore my eyes away from my cup of coffee. I almost forgot that Tonya was still here.

“This is going to sound strange. Please don’t hate me, but I need to say it.”

My head bobbed in a tight nod of its own accord. I was afraid what my friend might confess. Is she going to say how sorry she feels for me? Is her next sentence going to refer to herself as “lucky” because she had a way out? Bracing myself, I felt as I did when people say “No offense but…” clearly meaning offense. Her next words surprised me.

“I think you will love him. I wish every day that I could go back and change my decision, but you’re getting a chance to make it right in a sense. I know you’re going to think this is weird especially after I told how I just couldn’t do it, but I think it’s all going to be ok.”

I looked back down at the coffee. The almost-cold coffee with all of its steam clearly stolen by the room air and thought about how easy it was for her to say that. That’s one of those statements that very easily rolls off the tongue even when there’s no experience or proof to make it believable. But before I could form that into a response, she finished her thought.

Friday, October 26, 2012

Framed

I know I often paint my life as one diaper change to the next while buried under mismatched toys and therapy appointments. There is truth to that, yes. But every once in a while, I like to put on something that is NOT pajamas, wear jewelry that ISN'T broken, bake something that is fabulous, or do a small project around my house to make it more homey.

Because it makes me happy. And as a mom with two toddlers, deliberately taking time for happiness is a good thing.

Last week's project?
Filling up the space on my Dining Room wall (yes, that is a purple wall on the far end. I like to live on the wild side):
 I wanted to line it with canvas prints of the kids, but it was too expensive to buy that many prints. Any sort of artwork I could find that I liked was way out of the budget as well. 

So I went to Goodwill and picked up the oldest, most tacky frames I could find ($1.99 each except for the big one was $2.99. If you had time to shop around or go to garage sales, I'm sure that price could easily be beat)
 I raided my "households" closet and found these wreaths that I purchased on Target's clearance years ago but never quite found a spot for them:
And I bought a can of spray paint for $3.97.

I threw away the glass part of the frames, washed down each frame once, and set everything up on a cardboard box in the garage.

For the next week, every time I felt like it (had five minutes to spare), I went out to the garage and sprayed another coat of spray paint. (I may or may not have accidentally highlighted my hair off-white during one of these outings)

After they dried for a few days (ok fine, I forgot about them for a while), I then hung them on the empty wall in a artsy-crooked way so that I could get away with being a terrible picture-hanger.
 They looked a little empty, so I went back to my "households" closet and found little glass plates each connected to a ribbon that never looked right anywhere else (but once again- purchased on clearance for pennies years ago) Yes, I know I didn't hang all of them equally. Didn't you hear me just say that I'm a terrible picture-framer?
 The off-white doesn't line up perfectly with the off-white of the crown molding, but I honestly just don't care. My wall was decorated for $16.91, and it took very little of my time. Win/win. 

I think this same look could be achieved hundreds of different ways. Moral of the story? Take everything out to the garage, spray paint it your favorite color, and hang it on the wall. Oh wait...

Every time I look at that wall now I feel happy. 

Because it looks pretty.

And because the kids can't get to it.

In my line of work- that's what we call a successful project.




Thursday, October 25, 2012

More Alike Than Different

I saw this video this morning:
(watch it! It's only a few minutes long)

In one word: LOVE

Addison doesn't yet have the speech skills to express herself this same way (she will someday!). But I think if she could, she would want you to know that she's more alike other little girls than different.....because...

She collaborates with her brother to find hidden chocolates and then pretends that she didn't:
She loves dressing up in "pretties" and enjoys a new pair of shoes as much as the next girl:
She spends a lot of time chasing her brother:
She wants to DO IT HERSELF (especially if it involves chocolate)
 Sharing cookies and milk with Daddy is the highlight of her day:
 She hates getting her blood drawn:
She loves to be silly:
 She wants to play along in music class:
She spends most of her "free time" mothering her dolls:
She hates to share her toys:
and for a million other reasons- little reasons- big reasons,
this little girl is more alike than different.

I look forward to the day that she can tell you that herself.

Jessica (jdt1583) you won the Nest Ring giveaway! Email me at dsmith0806@gmail.com

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

an awesome day and a guest post

Yesterday came to a close right on schedule. The kids were fed, bathed, dressed in their cozy winter sleepers, and placed in their respective cribs.

I picked up their toys and the bath time laundry, started dinner, and then collapsed on the couch.

I thought about how Addison rocked gymnastics class that morning. I thought about taking Addison to get her labwork done and how brave she was. I remembered the look on her face and the "mmmmm" that she did with every bite of the hot fudge sundae that I took her to get for being such a brave girl facing that big needle. I replayed our conversation about everything and nothing over that hot fudge sundae and smiled at her understanding and the joy in her eyes.

And not to be forgotten I thought about how I was told when picking up Carter from the sitter after the lab appointment that he obeyed "NO" in regards to the stairs that he previously thought were his destiny to climb (PROGRESS!). I thought about his shy smile and how he earnestly said my name. I remembered how he clung to me the rest of the day because he didn't get as much time with me as he usually does.

I was overcome by the fuzzy, feel-good, motherhood-rocks emotion. Happily, I sank into that for just a minute, wondering what I had been complaining about. This was such an awesome day.

In that exact moment (I  kid you not), I heard Carter turn into a volcano of vomit in his crib.

One step forward....ten steps back I guess. But that's okay because motherhood is hard AND amazing. For Down syndrome awareness month, I'm writing all about it today over at Life as Mom.

And if this is your first time visiting EANFE, I've been posting every day this month in honor of Down syndrome. I would absolutely love it if you would check out some of those posts.

Like this one

or this one

or if you just want a snarky list about the "troubles" of motherhood, this one

Happy Wednesday, everyone! Wednesday mornings are a favorite around here because we get to go to MUSIC CLASS!!!! (-:

instagram: eanfe


Tuesday, October 23, 2012

drumROLL please

Addison made more progress in gymnastics class today. During warm up, she signed "butterfly" right BEFORE the "butterfly" part of the warm up. (She knew it was coming!)

And then during the first obstacle course, she...well, why would I tell you when you can watch it for yourself?
We celebrate all of the small accomplishments around here. 
But this was big. BIG. Bigger than big. BIG. Well, you get the point. Those of you who have been following our gymnastics saga- I hope this makes you smile. She has come a long way in the last two months, and it's so amazing to see something new start to click with her.

Proud of my little girl.

(and if you're brand new to this blog and don't have time to read the dozens of "gymnastics class saga" posts in order to understand the significance of this video, I would love it if you would read this post instead about teaching your children about disability.)

Monday, October 22, 2012

Terrible Twos

You know you've hit the "terrible twos" stage (times two) when...

1. All the surfaces in your house (windows, refrigerator, cabinets, walls) under three feet are liberally decorated with tiny hand smudges, and you just don't even care any more.

2. You look at your white couch covered in brown splotches and try to remember why you thought that white was a good idea. (yep. will be needing a new sofa! I can't even post a picture of this...waaaay too embarrassing)

3. You end a typical morning of play covered in blood from your rough-housing son's head wound with melted blue Popsicle covering every inch of the hardwood floors, and yet you just grab another cup of coffee and keep going.

4. You forget about the blood all over you until the UPS man stops by and compliments you on "your costume"

5. A "quick run" to the grocery store involves two hours of get-out-of-the-house prep time, fifteen minutes of carseat buckling (times four), a half hour's worth of muffin nibbling spread around the grocery store, and five minutes of blessed peace sitting in the driver's side slowly sipping a sweet tea that won't be spilled all over you.

6. When you get home and finish the one hour unload/trick-the-kids-back-into-the-house, you discover that you forgot to buy the one item that prompted your trip in the first place.

7. If the little ones refuse to nap, you begin to wonder if you can do this another day, and you start sending texts to your husband about a adding "vasectomy" to his Christmas list while writing blog posts about how much you miss your sanity.

8. You put up with the crunch crunch crunch underfoot from granola bars combined with goldfish crackers with a slight sprinkling of cheerios because it's a snack they can "fetch" themselves so sweeping it up during the day seems pointless.

9. Your husband comes home asking you to remove the painful "thing" entangled in his leg hair just below the knee. Upon closer examination, you discover a pre-moistened fruit snack that Addison so lovingly left for her Daddy on his side of the bed.

10. You remove that fruit snack as slowly as possible so that the "pain" of the terrible twos is shared just a bit more equally.

11. You fervently deny #10

12. You love to watch your children peacefully sleep. You think about what a blessing they are and how much you love them, but when they begin to stir because they can hear you breathing, you run cursing out of the room.

13. While writing a post like this one, you see two saws, a crowbar and a can of spray paint next to your computer because that's the only place curious hands can't reach them.

14. You post lots of adorable pictures because it helps you focus on the "cute" and not get lost in the "mess"
15. You have to stop writing now because you just discovered some yogurt smudged on a shift key with a suspiciously tiny fingerprint....so you have to use these last few minutes of naptime to go find a new hiding spot for the saws, crowbar, and spray paint.

16. You forget to publish this blog post until after the kids are awake and then
tewakjbe   =wpigfuwebfkjlabsfl.,.,.iuewrgfo iwreubfkj dlsbnagiuwe ghpiuewbf SAW! -A
1247362r549t367! !@#$#srevj$%^gdf& *&^$ -C




Sunday, October 21, 2012

The Twinsies

These pictures tell their own story, so I won't bore you with one of my own (plus I need a day off from WORDS).

These pictures also make my complaining about the insanity of motherhood seem absolutely ridiculous.

I love these two...the end: