hard reality

I wrote this October 2015. Never published it. Probably because I thought it was too negative. Well- the truth is never too much in my opinion. So here it is. 

I am in a deep mood, one of great contemplation and long term planning.  This mood usually leads to writing and alas here I am.  Jeremy got a promotion awhile ago, most people say, "great", "congrats", blah blah blah.  And inside I am screaming, "what?!" will this ever end.  After a long talk with my man this week, we determined it's not going to.  This ride he is on, this achievement and success, it's him, a part of him and removing him from it very difficult.  Don't get me wrong, we are blessed.  It is wonderful in all sorts of superficial ways.  What isn't is -I miss him.  Dearly.  Our family misses his jovial nature, his big hugs, sparkling smile, we miss him.  He used to travel 3-4 days a week when Graham was 2 and Audrey 1, it was brutal.  So hard to be alone all.day.long. and all.night.long.  I joined mommy groups and made connections in my reality and honestly we flourished in our new routine.  This recent reality isn't like that.  It's remding me what I lost.  A career.  An identity outside of being "mom".  And for well, the next 15 years it's on me.  My shoulders.  Jeremy listens and empathizes and says I am amazing and he is so lucky.  Everything you want to hear.  But, inside I am crumbling at the thought of this is my life.  Nothing outside of this.  I had so many aspirations.  So much drive and energy to accomplish things.  I think it struck me most when Graham saw a woman on the presidential debates and said, "women can't be president!"  And I said, "why?"  And he said, "Because they need to clean and take care of kids."  Wow.  Stunned.  I sat there thinking, that is how my kids know me, that is what they think of me, that is what they think of women.  Anyone who knows me knows that is the furthest thing from who I am.  I am so much more than that.  But, here I sat with my big eyed boy with all the truth serum of childhood in him and realized, that is what I am teaching him about women.  I know this all sounds obnoxiously priveledged and over dramatic and well, in some ways it is, but really life is interesting.  It seems we have visions no different than being a pro-baseball player when we are kids of what our lives will look like and how they actually come to fruition.  It's never really what we picture.  I get that.  I just didn't ever picture this either. 

being a mama

Disclaimer: I wrote this on May 12 2013 and never published it- no idea why- but here it is...yes always unedited and real. 

I remember back to when I laid looking up at my canopy on my little twin bed covered in glow in the dark stars and dreamt of it.  The moment I'd be a mama.  I was going to have Victoria Elizabeth and she was going to have long hair that I brushed every night while we talked.  I remember so vividly feeling that all I wanted in all of the world was to be a mom.  I had other dreams, to be a waitress, a lawyer, a teacher, own a business, help people.  But, honestly, being a mama, it was everything.  When I was a child I dreamt of being a grown-up.  It's all I wanted.  To be older, Jeremy I still laugh at the fact that I lied about my age all the time, not the way you think, I would say I was older, like let's say I was 22 and it was October, I'd say, I am almost 23, Ummm, yeah my birthday is in September!  I just wanted age, who knows why, maybe I felt like wisdom was a given at a certain age, that is definitely not the case!  I think one of the main reasons is I couldn't wait to be a mom.  I went the route of a career, went to graduate school, did all the over-achieving things one does to achieve goals in life.  I went down that path with every intention of being a working woman for many years.  I would bargain to say the majority of people in my life would have bet on it.  But, still, I could never think of a more important job in the world than raising babies.  Children for the future. 

Often times couples have many problems when they marry after they have children for many, they never thought about what the other would be like as a parent.  I can't say this.  One of the main reasons I broke up with a guy I dated prior to Jeremy was my concern for his fathering abilities.  I was 20.  Never too early!  And out of all that Jeremy lacked when we first dated as far as my checklist was concerned, he made up for in the way of being an amazing father to be.  How did I know?  Well, he was caring, deeply caring of others' feelings.  He was silly, funny, and didn't care who watched.  He worried little about others' judgments and more about the people he loved.  He loved his mama and family and knew how much they did for him.  Yep, that's about it.  I knew he was going to rock this dad thing and that right there tipped the scales.  It was the first major decision in being a mom. 

Being a mom is scary.  Like super scary- I mean- the whole they may die in my care at any moment and then they may grow up and hate me.  It doesn't seem to get easier, despite that intense desire I have.  According to others that have blazed this trail before me, it gets tougher and even scarier.  Because eventually, you won't have a say anymore in where they go or what they do.  Is that possible?  Do they know who their mom is????

I gave my parents a run for their money.  I pushed and prodded throughout my life.  I questioned every decision they made, begged for every rule to be broken, and some I just straight-up broke.  My mom and I don't have a fairytale relationship.  It's not what I dreamt of for us.  I am sure it's not what she dreamt of either.  And yet here we are- living a life that neither of us planned.  I have learned to find beauty in the unplanned portions of our lives.  And for all the choices my mom made that I lobbied against or cursed her for.  One thing you can't deny is I always wanted to be a mommy and something led me to that place.  When I shout to my kids, "no more electronics!" Jeremy looks at me like I just turned off the VHS player.  I am reminded of my mom.  When I say, "come on you guys no more sugar, you need to pick something healthy!"  I see her cooking up a storm.  When I tell creative, outlandish stories, like one this morning of a mom that turned into a kitty, don't ask, I am reminded of the world she gave me that was well beyond the tangibles of today.  That's the thing about being a mom, our actions, emotions, and I may not agree with the way my mom raised me in every way, but one thing I know for sure is she did her best.  We all do our best.  And I want nothing more than for our children to know that our dreams have come true and we really are doing our best to help theirs come true too. 

the end

Its raining and I sit here in my new apartment.  I know, an apartment? What? Well, as you know in life things aren't always as they seem.  Jeremy and I have been crumbling for 3 years now.  I am sure the patterns of abuse, verbal, emotional by both of us, started laying their roots many years before that.  However, now those roots are a full grown tree that seems to be sucking the oxygen out of everything around it.  I have no idea how we got here.  Actually I have a pretty good idea, quiet a few of them.  We both came from broken homes, where our hearts were shattered, thru divorce, parents that weren't present and loss.  Lots of people have numerous things like this happen to them, but for us, it was the normal in our lives more than the exception.  The pain from that past manifested in behaviors that both of us couldn't manage.  I would cry, whine, scream about pretty much anything and had unrealistic expectations.  He on the other hand would take his out with drinking, doing anything to escape his pain and ultimately when I took all of those things away due to my needs and requirements for him to be better- his anger would surface and almost all of it at me.

I was vulnerable to him and his love.  I wanted and needed it, so I took it, saw him as broken like me, empathized and thought of him as a young boy, I just couldn't except that this man in front of me, that  loved and adored me, that worked years to earn my love would do anything but love me back.  But he did.  He eventually tried so hard for over a decade to please me, meet any and all of my expectations, a pattern he began as a middle child.  He was the peace maker, the one that was more stable than the rest, not that that was saying much.  He was always trying to be a people pleaser when we met, say and do the right thing to avoid conflict and gain peace.  I didn't know that was hiding a dark, deep boy that wanted to be seen and heard and eventually when his own father disowned him decided he was done.  Done being the yes man.  Done being the man that did what everyone wanted and said what everyone needed.  I was shocked.  I wasn't used to it, didn't know what to think, was very bothered.  Couple that with his new career and my new undertaking of a stay-at-home mom; and it wasn't good.

He traveled, worked day in and day out, trying to win my approval, the only person he really ever devoted his life too.  He is not one to connect, be vulnerable, tell you a deep secret, but with me, he did.  Always.  We both knew that.  I needed to grow and not depend on him, as he was gone so much and I was struggling greatly with my new role and lack of ego filling opportunities.  I branched out, made amazing connections with strong, fun women, mom's.  Meanwhile, he was diving more into work.  We had beautiful children.  Once Nolan came we were stunned, but we did well, we worked thru down syndrome and seizures and everything else life threw our direction.  We have always been a force.  Strong, intelligent and charismatic as a couple.  Then EJ came.

This is when this post goes from truth to brutal honesty.  Some may judge this and I guess I don't blame you, how can I? I judge leaves on a tree!  But, really, having a second child with special needs, it just broke us to a level that now I see is irreparable.  I wish I could say we are a couple that withstood the 75% of couples that get divorced with children with special needs.  We are not.  I often wonder, I know it's not healthy, but true, would we be here if EJ weren't?  It hurts my heart physically to type that.  If you know me, you know my love for each of my children is endless and all consuming.  It's not something I can separate from me as a person.  But, still, I wonder.  Then I stop and think, does it matter? It won't change the reality.  The reality is we are broken and we aren't getting fixed.  Our hearts and the pain of this divorce and the impact on our family will never be solved.

As a type A problem solver and solution lover, I am devastated.  For the loss of my marriage, my family, my dreams, and for the simple, plain fact. I failed.  I couldn't fix this.  I tried my damnedest.  I have no regrets.  I needed to know that when I made this decision and moved forward with the divorce,  I needed to know that 3 years ago, I spoke with my best friend and my aunt about my marriage and that I wanted out.  My aunt said, please wait 3 years Grace, from this day, it was May 1, 2013.  I worked, I whined, I bitched, I moaned, I poured my soul and heart into my marriage and I poured venom and anger into it as well.  I wasn't perfect.  But I waited and tried.  That's all I could do.  With every step, every decision, we got further apart.  I could see it crumbling, begged for therapy with him, begged him to quit his job and be with us more, tried everything I knew how, and in the end, it didn't work.  We didn't work.  Fuck.  It sucks.  Nothing eloquent or amazing to say about that.  It's not all him.  It's not all me.  We both made monumental relationship errors.  We both think we are right 99% of the time.  It's not a recipe for a copacetic marriage.  We both are stubborn, opinionated, and strong.  We both haven't seen or shown the best in each other in years.

Lately I have been wrapping my brain around how this could possibly ever end up as a positive.  Or at least one positive thing to come out of it, will I be happy ever again?  Will the damage I cause my children forever haunt their lives and ruin any amount of love and energy I have put into them?

Every. Single. Person. we have told is stunned.  We hear often, "but you guys are the BEST couple!"  and many more compliments.  I mean, the woman who cleans my house literally cried, saying we were great together.  It was shocking to our families.  Honestly, it's shocking to us.  Apparently we are good actors?  Or we are that amazing, but just not quite amazing enough?  I am not sure.  I know that I needed to write all of this.  To tell the truth.  Not the nitty gritty details, but the fact that a couple can have money, beautiful children, supportive families and be crumbling and struggling every single day.  Life isn't a fairytale.  It's hard work, that sometimes doesn't end with a reward, a ribbon, a smile.  Sometimes it ends in tears and heartache.  That's where this is today.

I wrote this 8 months ago....I decided today was the day to publish it, I was going to make it prettier, put a little make up on it and then said, screw that, this is my life....a lot has changed in the last 8 months, but our divorce is final and we are moving on separately and I just need to rip this bandaid off.

ice cream

I have always been a bath person.  I am sure it started as a young girl, my dad, yes, rather odd, was a bath taker and my mom would chat with him, solving world problems I assume while he took his bath.  So, in turn, I somehow am also a bath taker.  Some people., my husband among them calls this practice, human soup.  He obviously hasn't had the experience of a Lush fizzy ball and I have no desire to share it with him, I'd rather it be a mystery and leave me alone in silence for a solid 15 minutes.  Every time I take a bath I go through the same process, I mean, every. single. time.  I can see my first pregnant belly emerging from the water and watch my heart beat pulse the bubbles.  I see Jeremy's and I's first house in St. Paul, a vintage charmer, and well, only had a bathtub, and a "shower" in the basement with a work light clipped on so you could see, and yes, Jeremy would use that to avoid, human soup.  I loved that house, the first thing we "owned" together, making our memories, and we got pregnant in that house and moved out of it 3 weeks prior to giving birth to Graham.  So I have many human soup memories there, as I had a lot more time to simmer back then.  I remember getting so sick from morning sickness, so ridiculously named, as it was 7pm and puking in that wonderful vintage bathtub and leaving my husband to clean up, hmmm, maybe there is in fact a reason he refers to it as human soup.  Anyway, I can remember rubbing that belly, dreaming of a boy or girl, hair dark or light, thick or thin, my eyes or Jeremy's, likes sports or academics, those dreams were alive between my baby and I in that luke warm water, oh yes, I knew not to take "hot" baths when preggo.

 

I graduated to a big, beautiful master bath tub, one that engulfed my large belly and made me feel a lot less large, which at 9 months preggo was much appreciated.  I sat there rubbing and dreaming away.  I also took a bath with every single labor in that bathtub, our 2nd home.  It didn't matter if it was 4 am or midnight, I was clean and had makeup on ready for the hospital in between telling Jeremy to shut the F"": UP!  Just keeping it real. 

So, as with all the babies, I remember each one and our time in that bath, our alone time, both when I had just had them and brought them home and we would bathe together and also when they were in my big round belly.  The dreams, the images, the endless possibilities.  I remember so clearly thinking of Nolan, his name, and hearing it over and over, Nolan Robbins.  Pitching for the MN Twins Nolan Robbins.  Convinced he was our athlete.  Our risk taker.  I also remember painstakingly the day I found out he had down syndrome 72 hours prior to his delivery and rubbing that same belly and thinking horrible, terrible, dreadful thoughts about what he would look like, sound like, be like.  It breaks my heart now to know those thoughts ever entered my mind.  Brings tears to my eyes, now not because I am sad I had that experience, but because I am sad that I wasn't more educated and knew better.  I was wasting tears over something that in fact was one of the greatest gifts of my life. 

I went to the Taylor Swift concert with Audrey about a month ago and it was one of the best nights of my life.  Our girl and I just singing and cuddling and embracing the moment in every way.  It was perfection.  I told her kissing her goodnight that it was the top 5 moment of my life and she said what were the 1st 4, and I answered the births of all of our babies.  I realize now I forgot our wedding day, which in all honesty was awesome, so I do feel bad for forgetting, but either way, it came out that way.  And truth be told, with the stress that came knowing Nolan would have down syndrome and Ej's dramatic birth, I still hold those 4 days as my top.  I became a mama, 4 times.  It's magical becoming a mama.  No matter what chromosomes or deformities, or perfect nose and eyes, it really is magic and a miracle.  I treasure each and every one. 

October is Down Syndrome Awareness month and I feel that it is my duty to educate anyone I can, even if it's one person in Germany, to say, our son, Nolan, is here and worth every minute.  He is a human, a person, he laughs, he cries, he has demands and opinions, he isn't a creature, a monster, something to fear. 

Tonight Jeremy and I left Audrey and Graham at home and took EJ and Nolan to dinner at one of our favorite Mexican restaurant's in St. Paul.  When we were out, we hugged them, tickled them, colored with them, fed them, laughed with them, and simply adored our time with our boys.  I said to Jeremy at one point, "we are out with our two that have special needs, not our typical kids." Jeremy said,  "I don't notice things like that anymore."  I hadn't either really, but for a moment.  I was enamored with our boys.  I was in love with their smiling faces, coos and signing for more chips.  I am so proud of how far Nolan has come in his language skills and the absence of screaming at dinner.  We talked briefly how every stage of parenthood has the pros and cons.  I just love our boys.  Our little boys, their blond curly hair, the smiles that radiate from sun up till sun down.  Their hugs and kisses that fill your heart with joy and most of all, just them.  I am not embarrassed of them, quite the opposite.  I can't wait to show them off, to proudly walk with them, telling the world different is better than good, it's amazing.  It's what makes people exceptional.  Talk to anyone you know about their life and the ones you admire most will talk about their struggles and the work they did to overcome them.  It's life, our growth comes from digging deep, trying our best.

Tonight Nolan ate his meal, chips and salsa, flautas and refried beans and then when the waiter came to ask if there was anything else we needed, Nolan touched his arm ever so gently and said, "ice ceam please".  Yup, that is all we needed. 

comparisons

The day started amazing.  Kids were all in great moods ready to head for the 2nd week of school.  Nolan still as excited as last week with his big backpack on, a grin and waiting for the bus, another day at his "practice" Kindergarten, we are doing two years of K, since he is so young.  EJ slept late and woke up happy as can be, a rarity for him.  It is gorgeous and 70 degrees outside. EJ's big day, starting preschool officially.  I took the adorable front stair photo and he was all grins.

 



 I smooched him up and down and appreciated our moment together alone, since all the others had already left on their bus.  Grabbed his lovie just in case he needed an extra snuggle, put it in his backpack with his name proudly monogrammed.  We put on his AFO's (braces for his feet); he can't stand them because I don't really ever make him wear them, I figure he will walk in his own time.

We park and arrive 5 mins prior to class beginning, I am greeted by the Special Ed Director, who took over the program about 2 years ago and has done an exceptional job and is a joy to be around.  I told her such and we chatted about the great changes in the program since Nolan started there.  This will be a mixed class, typical children and 3 children with special needs, EJ being one of them.  We walked by all of the students waiting anxiously with their parents and got to go in a bit earlier to see the space and chat with EJ's amazing teacher, she seriously couldn't be more kind.  I had no feelings of sadness or envy walking by all of the typical 3 year olds.  I had no experience of wondering what this day would feel like..."if only."  I am pleased to say I was at complete peace.  There he sat, so adorable and smiling to everyone, brave and happy, not clingy or grunting to be picked up, which he typically does.  It was far better than I could have imagined.

 

As I filled out one last form, a little girl sat right next to him and her mom backed up to get a picture of her at her spot.  I noticed she may have Down Syndrome and thought, well won't that be great for EJ, a friend with similar abilities, some children are much more involved and some much more advanced in these classes.  I remember the doctor telling us the day after we found out EJ had Trisomy 9 Mosaciscm,  that Nolan would be more advanced than EJ, he would need more help.  I couldn't swallow that then.  Couldn't imagine anyone needing even MORE help than Nolan at the time.  Now, well, it's become our life.  And in all honesty, I felt like EJ has been doing really well.  He follows simple instructions, go get a bowl, grab a book and he knows what he likes and doesn't.  He can't walk, but he cruises and scoots everywhere.  He can't talk, but knows some signs.  We were progressing fine.  So, I smiled and saw her name, asked her mama if she had DS and informed her that our son Nolan did as well, EJ's brother.  She was kind and up came the little girl, walking confidently over to us, after hanging up her own backpack and giving everyone high fives, including me.  Someone asked her name and she spoke it clearly and enthusiastically.  My heart sank and began beating at top speed.  I was flush and felt like throwing up.  I glanced over at the boy I just moments ago was admiring and found myself staring at all the things he couldn't do.  He was still sitting on the bench looking around, only now all I saw was that he couldn't get down.  Couldn't speak to ask for help or say mama even.  Instead of seeing my sweet, content boy, I saw a boy that wasn't capable.

 

I looked everywhere for an emergency exit, knowing my mommy meltdown was coming.  I confidently and completely faked the rest of the next 5 minutes.  As I heard the little girl's mom explain to her that if she needs to go potty to say potty, which she clearly said, "potty."  Wow, potty training too? So she is more advanced than Nolan too.  Wow, I have really failed my boys.  I have really dropped the ball. All that was running through my head was the following: "What have you been doing Grace? What was more important than helping your boys develop? How could you have been so selfish with your time?  And here you were feeling on top of the world, how dumb."



I got to my car and was stunned, totally unprepared to have those feelings railroad me and so strongly.  My moms of kids with special needs will know, this is it, these moments that just take your breath away and you never know when they are going to happen.  It's awful.  I started crying and called Jeremy who was on a plane with the door closing, so I simply blurted out that I have ruined our kids lives and suck as a mom and I have to go anyway and hung up.  Which I am sure he totally appreciated.  Moments later, my phone beeped.  Jeremy sent a text simply and perfectly stating, "Love- e and nol aren't that little girl.  Just like G wouldn't like or play baseball until he was ready, please don't beat yourself up.  They will develop as much as they can when they are ready."

It soothed my guilt and blame for a moment and still it kept churning in my head, what if my theory of kids developing when they want regardless of tons of therapy is wrong and I held Nolan and EJ back from developing skills that will help them for the rest of their life.  If I had just done more.  I sent a text to one of EJ's first therapists- we have developed a friendship and I so appreciate her.  She immediately called and I burst into tears, explaining what happened.  I said to her what I believe to be true, that having kids with special needs is different because we are taught we can change the outcome of their lives based on therapies, basically our efforts.  She explained her own life and children's sports for instance when she thought she could've done more, hired another private coach, advanced her children in areas they loved because the other parents were doing it and she didn't want them to fall behind and lose the chance to do what they loved.  That her friends would tell her that she should have in fact done more.  It is all so messed up isn't it?  We got off the phone and I felt so much better, realizing this is just life.  It's not OUR life that is isolated with these issues anymore than anyone else.  It's just different.

It also struck me two of my favorite quotes both came into play today.  "Comparison is the thief of joy." and   "Perception is reality."  So I bucked up and realized how lucky we are in all we do have, and all of our children may do things or not do things throughout their lives that we will surely wish were different, but in the end, it's not about us.  It's not about measuring accomplishments, it's not about potty training the fastest, speaking the most words, being the best baseball player or an amazing student.  Life is about connections; and EJ is great at that!  I am happy to report he had an amazing first day, no need for his lovie, played happily with the kids around him and smiled at everyone. Just another bump on the roller coaster. 

I will leave you with what has been making me smile, ear to ear, since it happened, our annual end of summer birthday celebration for Nolan and EJ.

brush your teeth

I've been contemplating this post for 14 days.  October is Down Syndrome Awareness month and as such many bloggers are writing beautiful stories about their lives and sharing their love for their babes with an extra chromosome that has enlightened their life and well I sat here thinking, REALLY?  I need to advocate on why this guy deserves to be here?

 It seems so odd, so redundant.  Like, "Hey, brush your teeth if you want to keep 'em!"  But, that is our reality isn't it?  Wow.  It stuns me to think that was me.  I had a 72-hour window of knowing I was about to give birth to a little baby with down syndrome.  All that swirled in my head was awful, horrible, tragic, life changing images.  Nothing positive.  Literally nothing.  It's disturbing really, because it isn't reality.  And that is where I like to dwell, in truth.  The truth is-he is a beautiful, happy, silly, sometimes a naughty little boy.  I didn't know that.  Our society wants to take anything worth working for, anything that is less than perfect, anything that will be a tad more difficult and say, "whoa- who wants that?!".  So, I didn't.  I wanted to run away.  I wanted out.  I can see how so many mamas make that choice.  I don't judge it, I completely understand it.  We are programmed with everything in our lives: to find better and do better for ourselves.  If your marriage doesn't make you happy- get a new one.  If you don't like your job- quit-life's too short.

But, in reality, life's treasures are earned and worked for and sometimes suffering is a part of that.  It wasn't difficult to fall in love with Nolan, that was the easiest part of this journey.  And I thought it would be difficult for others to do the same, and well, that was totally not true either; everyone I encounter loves Nolan.  Not because he has down syndrome.   Because he is Nolan.  He radiates love and acceptance.  He makes people smile, all people.  All of the time.  Our kids are shy, both Jeremy and I were shy as a kid and well not so much anymore, but Graham and Audrey definitely.  If you know our family, you are so happy when one of our children greets you with open arms, because it probably took 4 years of knowing them to do so. But, not Nolan, he runs and gives kisses and hugs freely.  He fills everyone's love tank daily. 

 As I sat in the hospital bed with his new little baby scent and soft baby skin; it was perfect.  It was all that I dreamt of.  It was the world that I didn't want to take him into.  I remember hiding him in my baby carrier, hoping no one noticed.  Happy if anyone told me that he "didn't look like 'it'".  Now I cringe at those thoughts.  Can't imagine being ashamed of my sweet boy- but I wasn't- the world is.  The world sees him as less than, and therefor we all do; that isn't right.  Forget fair, forget politically correct; it isn't right.  He deserves your respect and love and attention like any of our children. 

Graham said to me this morning, the first time ever, just randomly brought it up, "If Nolan were regular (insert cringe here) would he like and be able to play Lego's?"  First of all, we talked about what 'regular' meant and then I said, "yes, he would be able to and probably like Lego's."  He then followed it up with, "I just wish one of the babies were 'regular'. So, I could play Lego's with them."  I cringed again, but understood his point.  The conversation quickly moved along, but it was swirling in my head today.  This is what I talked with him about tonight.  That we don't know how we are going to get along with our brothers or sisters.  That I barely talk to my sister and we are different people.  Doesn't mean she is bad or I am bad, just different.  It is a gift when we truly enjoy the same things and play the same games with each other regardless of our abilities, and it's true. 

 There will be many more conversations, I am sure, about what is different or annoying about having brothers with disabilities.  But, we would do this anyway, with any brothers.  We all love and loathe numerous things about all kinds of people; their intellect has very little to do with it. 

 I can't say that I get the whole magical unicorns and rainbows of down syndrome.  I wouldn't preach it like that; to me, it's a tough job raising kids.  It takes all of your heart and soul to try day in and day out to be the best you know how.  Whether or not they have an extra 21st or 9th chromosome doesn't really matter.  Kids still make you smile and make you melt and scream and shout. 

I thought and imagined that our family would be "different". That our friends wouldn't want to be with us anymore, because our kids weren't like theirs.  I know it sounds ridiculous to our friends, because it is ridiculous.  I wish I could take a mama with the news of any baby with struggles or differences and show her our life.  Our wonderful, beautiful life.  It's not because it's easy.   It's not because we are amazing.  It's a choice.  Happiness and love are choices and actions.  We live.  All of us.  All of the time.  We have fun and welcome all people into our home.  And if you were invited you'd see, we are a family, complicated, messy and so full of love (and stiff drinks!).  This life is all I dreamt it to be, the only missing piece is the rest of the world.  So, dreaming big and starting small with all of you. 

 So, yeah, brush your teeth if you want to keep them and love people for who they are and what they offer this world.  We are all just trying our best. 

lucky

Tonight, sitting in the candle lit darkness of our screen porch, surrounded by silence and sounds of nature; I thought it, something I never thought I would think again.  "I can't believe I am this lucky."  I didn't want to write this, didn't want to say it out loud to the universe.   Because, really, it seems like bragging or annoying in some way.  But, it's true.  I kissed 4 beautiful, perfectly, imperfect children to sleep tonight.  I sent a text to my traveling man with a heart as we kissed goodnight from afar.  And as I sat in the stillness the peace of right now rushed over me.  I really do have all that I have ever wanted right here, right now.  You spend your life forming images and dreams of what your life may look like.  I can't say that mine looks the way I imagined or dreamt of, in fact it is so much better.  It is rich, deep and full of life.  This past weekend I had a girls night with some of my favorite people and it reminded me what this journey is about.  A give and a take between friends, connecting through pain and tears, also through shannanigans and laughter.  It was perfectly imperfect.  We all were that night.  Each with our own stories of pain and triumph.  Gifts that we bring the world and our families each day.  I admire each of them in so many different ways.  So lucky I am to know them and call them friends. 

I sit and miss my husband, truly my heart aches thinking of him gone, even for a couple of days.  After 15 years.  He is my rock.  He knows every side of me, the nitty gritty.  We don't sugar coat things and we bicker like teenagers.  But, we also love like teenagers, after 15 years. It's a connection, undeniable.  It can't be spelled out, our story too rich in details to ever be simplified in a few paragraphs.  It's what I love about us.  Our journey wasn't and isn't easy, bumps all over our road map.  And still we are together.  So lucky. 

I took Graham to dinner tonight, just him and I.  It was so glorious, talking to him about life and table manners at a fancy restaurant.  Watching him thank the waitress and say he should change from his t-shirt if we were going to a grown-up place.  He is growing up.  We laughed and walked on the river and he said things like, "next time we should just sit down by the water and have a picnic and watch the water....Nolan would love it, let's bring Nolan."  I said to him, do you ever wish Nolan was different?  That he could talk to you and do more?  He said, "NO of course NOT!  I love Nolan just the way he is, he will talk to me one day and even if I don't like legos when he finally does, I will play them with him and it'll be fun."  He's a winner this kid.  He melts my heart.

I arrived home to our soon to be 7 year old and she was playing with her brothers.  Carefully choosing toys that each one would like all while turning a blank book that we got into a Curious George story written and illustrated by her for Nolan for his soon to be 4th birthday.  Imagine that?  She has a birthday 6 days away and thinking of his.  Lucky.  Very lucky.  In her story that is almost finished, George gets to eat ice cream and look at fish, all the things Nolan loves to do.

I went to take Nolan up to bed and said say good night Nolan and Audrey came screaming over, "NOOOO!"  I had a slight heart palpation and then she said,  "I need to hug him goodnight!"  He jumped out of my arms and they hugged tightly, their little hands tapping each others backs.  She blew him kisses up the staircase and he blew them back.  Perfect isn't it?

It's just the same with our little bouncing boy EJ, so many kisses and hugs all day, every day.  He is lavished in love.  What was I so worried about?  What was so scary?  Life? Love?  I am so lucky.  I am that girl that has everything I always wanted.  Funny how on a random Monday that can happen.  Perspective is a beautiful thing.  Let's hope I keep that going past 10 am tomorrow, HA- didn't say I appreciate it all- in between the screaming, fighting and general chaos around here. But, it feels good to know I can feel lucky.  I am.

normal

I can remember being as little as 5 and what it felt like to be in a room of extreme feelings and total silence.  Palpable loss and grief, but yet no words.  After my brother died, our life was often lived appearing to be "normal."  I am not sure what it should have looked like.  I guess one would picture everything black, bleak and lots of crying.  But, in fact, that wasn't so.  Life was life.  My sister and I bickered and exchanged deals between the vents in our rooms after arguing; debating who would admit they were wrong and apologize to appease our parents and relinquish the punishment of "go to your rooms!".  We ate dinner and often complained about my mom's latest health food creation.  I often stared at a weathered board on the wall in our kitchen that started with the words..."give us this day...".  I never knew what exactly that meant, yet another underlying theme in a silently chaotic environment.  Silent chaos, seems like an oxymoron, but often fits perfectly.  Sometimes life is so painful and tragedy so deep, there aren't any words. 

There is something about the phrase, "I don't know how you do it" that gets me everytime I hear it.  It never quite sits right with me.  How do any of us do anything after a sudden loss, tradgedy or unexpected event in our lives?  There is no handbook.  The fact of the matter is, from a very young age I knew loss.  I knew pain.  I knew tradgedy.  I knew that it doesn't look any different then "normal."  In fact, in most families, in some way or another,  it is normal.  

I have been struggling lately with silent chaos.  I am not a religious person.  However, spiritual yes, I do believe that we all have a purpouse and life gifts and it is our responsiblity to find them and use them for the betterment in the world.  I do belive that all of us have lessons to learn and our daily behaviors increase or decrease those lessons.  I don't know why, how or where I learned or believe these things, I just do.  Can't really explain it.  Something in me, always.  I think one of my lessons involves letting others in, being vulnerable, truly developing relationships that lean on each other, not just letting someone lean on me.  It doesn't sound difficult, but for some reason, it's nearly impossible for me.  I find myself a mess when someone does something for me and I can't immediately repay the favor.  So, I have been practicing.  But, this is where the tricky part comes in.  How do you tell people what you are really going through?  Do you send out a mass email?  Call each person and deliver the news over hour long conversations, "hi, my son is having yet another surgery, what are you having for dinner?"  It's tough.  I don't like to be a downer, a buzz kill, a drama queen.  I want to be normal.

I want so badly to not talk about the difficult part of our lives, that radiates most of my thoughts.  I don't want to focus on all that we could have, when we have so much to be grateful for.  I want to point out the great things the kids are doing, not focus on the never ending tantrums and surgeries.  But, I also want to be real.  I also want to be honest.  And honestly, this shit isn't easy.  I immediately follow it up in my own head with, "come on Grace, it's not that bad."  It's not.  It could be infinitely worse.  That is true.  But, it could be easier and better.  That is true too.  So, I guess I am learning.  How to admit something is bad or difficult without losing my "normal" title.  Ha.  So funny what we hold so tightly to.

My sweet friend dropped off a book today, Zach Sobiech's mom wrote, "Fly a little Higher", I have been reading it since.  Well, between, giving a baby a bath in one hand, book in the other.  Tears streaming down my face.  Nods of familiarity pulsing through my blood.  Audrey asking if I had seen the "Chicken Little" book while I was reading about their finding out about Zach having cancer.  They had found out and Laura diligently called every friend and family member, one by one, cancer, cancer, cancer flowing from her tounge.  I thought, that is what I can't do anymore.   I can't keep making the call.  She then so beautifully illustrated how they all sat down that same awful day and ate dinner and chatted about life in one way or another and well, life went on.  And it does.  It always does.  The sun still rises and sets.  Breakfast still gets made.  Babies still need baths.  You still need to eat.

I feel always that thing when you walk by someone and you don't know their life.   You don't know if they just heard the words cancer.  They look normal.  You don't know if that car cutting you off just found out their son died.  None of us really know the silent chaos that may be happening right at this very moment. 

An update on EJ.  He had a brain and spinal MRI and then surgery for undecended testes, it was over 5 hours and it seemed like eternity.  At the same time, it was easy.  My extrordinary aunt (who is in the throws of getting her masters full time, working and doing her practicum) insisted on helping and bringing me to the hosptial at 530 AM with EJ, so Jeremy could get the kids off and meet me there later.  I insisted she not do this and she insisted she did.  I am so glad she did.  It was nice.  Nice to let someone in.  She had a tougher time than I expected.  Somethings, like hospital admissions and procedures you become somewhat numb to at this point.  It was bizzare almost to see it through a "newcomers" eyes.  It was a great distractoin once surgery began as we just chatted about all world topics, as we typically do and soon enough hours had passed and Jeremy was there.

The results of the MRI were what we were anxiously waiting for.  We would have to wait through Easter weekend, which I wasn't happy about, but did provide some relief knowing it wasn't urgent.  The neurosurgeon who calls herself Debbie when she calls, which really makes me love her even more; explained in detail numerous findings from the MRI.  I won't bore you with all of them here.  Basically, his ventricles are still enlarged and extra fluid remains on his brain, but not shunt as of now.  His spine is displaying scoliosis and will need intervention, unsure of how much because of his tethered spinal cord and if we correct that, how much will that help.  So, yes, that leads me to his tethered spinal cord that will need untethering, or in laymen terms, cut.  Last week Jeremy was in CA for major meetings he couldn't change and well I was here with 4 kids and 3 appointments at the hospital with EJ.  Jeremy's mom is literally a saint and took off of work and took Nolan to help- which it did immensely.  I saw the films in person and we discussed some further bladder/kidney testing he would need prior to the surgery and set everything up.  So, now we are here.  His surgery scheduled for May 23.  We will be there for 5 days, which in reality could be a lot worse.  But, ick.  I hate the hospital.  Who likes it?  It seems that shockingly the recovery isn't that bad, it's more the procedure and risk of complications when opening up the spinal column, but I have total faith in his doctors and staff and am confident all will be well.  I just hate it.   I hate seeing my baby with tubes, crying, helpless.  I hate depending on others and feeling needy.  I hate leaving my kids and missing another holiday weekend in the hospital.  I hate appointments and arranging schedules for bad crap.  I hate worrying about it, thinking about it, I hate it.

So, wow that's a lot of deep talk for a Thursday,  but there it is, the good, bad and ugly.  That is how we do it.

Roller Coaster vs Merry Go Round

Hi.  It's been awhile.  I am sparing you excuses and digging right in.

I am sure many of my friends reading this will be rolling their eyes with, "Oh Grace back on the Roller Coaster vs Merry Go Round conversation again."  I have been rather obsessed with it lately.

Basically it goes like this.  What's better a life of contentment, peace, and sameness aka Merry Go Round? Or a life of dramatic highs and lows, aka the roller coaster.  I categorize people, well not normally to their face, but in my head as one or the other.  The calm, rational ones usually in the Merry Go Round department and ones more like me, in the roller coaster category.  I am known to have a mood swing or two, just sayin.  In general I have longed and wished to be a Merry Go Round person, it just isn't happening.  No matter how hard I try to keep my mouth shut for any number of minutes, an hour seemingly impossible, I blurt out something, often times completely inappropriate things, leading to crashes in various relationships.  Now, it's not all bad, because with roller coasters, there is always a thrill, a high, an enviable rush and the passion in my marriage is such.  The bonds in my close relationships unbreakable.  The love felt by and for my children, literally a force of nature.  It's that intensity that makes me, me.  So why do I question it?  Why do I analyze it's value and importance to death?  Because that's what I do with a freaking commercial on TV; of course I do it with this!  In all seriousness, my over analytical nature is often times a nagging problem for restless nights and questions that frequently don't have answers. But, still it's interesting.

Will our children grow up and say, "Seriously calm down and stop bickering!"?  Probably.  For where there is true passion and love, there is also fire and ice.  We aren't your average lovey, dovey couple.  We can go to bat for our opposite view points for hours, both stubborn and unwilling to relent.  Jeremy will succumb more than I, no doubt, but don't let those blue eyes fool you, he has equal intensity.  That's not to say that we are without our romantic, loving, soft, side either.  His words and warm embrace can heal my wounds and overflow my heart.  My support and admiration mean the world to him.  We are each others go to person, and we also go after each other.  I wish we didn't, I wish we were less intense.  And I wonder what a house is like with a "traditional" Merry Go Round way of functioning.  Do they have dance parties at 5 on a Tuesday?  Probably not.  Do they tell fart jokes with their 7 year old? I am guessing that's inappropriate after age 18.  So as much as our biting tongues lash out, our hearts engage and fill with every ounce of laughter.  Is that so bad?

Still, is it more valuable to have parents that are in control.  Smile and hug you, are predictable in schedule and emotions.  Are at peace in general with their relationships and generally don't challenge their life circumstances or complain about their environments.  Even as I write that, I feel tense, thinking, "OMG I am SO not that person!!!!!!!"  As Jeremy would say, "There is this color in the world that you should learn, it's called grey."  I realize that Merry Go Rounds do sometimes break and you can get dizzy on them.  But for the most part, how bad can it be, it's a Merry Go Round.  It seems the real danger in life, the risks are on that roller coaster and that is where I get worried.  Before you go freaking out, I am not talking about major things like abuse of any kind, I am talking about yelling and losing it when you have to ask your kids 14 times to brush their teeth or put on their shoes.  Merry Go Rounds don't do that.  They speak in sing song and keep their composure at all times, or at least 95% of the time, much higher than my generously self-given 75%.  

I think the toughest part about being a parent is the constant questioning as to if you are doing it "right".  I don't think there is an answer.  I am sure Graham will never forget when I was blaring Kesha's Timber in the minivan as I pulled up to school to drop them off and he was shouting, "Mom stop it! This is so embarrassing!!!"  I smiled and turned it down just as the button pushed to open the door and spare his 2nd grade boyhood from complete horror.  But my heart jumped, clearing the top of the 1,783 hill that it has climbed.  The slight rush of fun and humor and love that filled the mini; it's in those moments it all makes sense.  I am crazy, this ride is exhilarating.  There is no other way to do this for me, in this life.  I think my focus needs to shift from, is this right?  To, this is our life.   It's a ride, enjoy it either way. 

connections

I think as parents we all have a theme so to say.  Something that perhaps was lacking in our childhood, or something we really loved about it.  Either way it is an overwhelming force that drives our parenting skills.  I have seen it with friends- where they spend hours of time and energy on athletics and coaching, watching, participating, encouraging their child to do well.  Others are the same way with music; art; and of course academics.  I thought mine would be the latter.  Academics was encouraged in our house growing up; more than anything else; you were expected to do well and try your best.  It wasn't shoved down our throats or anything, but it was known.  I thought I would follow along with exposing my children to a variety of interests and activities but in the end, academia would take center stage.  Then life hits.  Two children with special needs will take a genius IQ right out of you.  (Not that I have one!)  But, really it makes you re-think what is success?  What is it that I want for my kids?  Most people will blurt out thoughtlessly: happy and healthy.  Well of course.  But, really, what does that mean, happiness. 

I think I finally have my theme figured out.  It all comes down to connections.  At the end of the day, a life filled with education and world travel- alone- means little.  A life filled with riches and material items are fruitless and empty without someone to share it with.  A life filled with peace and tranquility is simply boring without any social interaction.  At the end of the day, that is the most important thing.  How to be a good friend and maintain healthy, happy relationships.

I can't say I am a master at this, it takes effort.  Thinking and doing things that don't necessarily come naturally to me.  I am opinionated and blurt many things out without thinking.  I speak in generalizations and harsh tones often.  I am high maintenance and like to eat and go to certain places.  I mean- don't you want to be friends with me?  That's it.  That's my point.  I have had to learn how to compromise, how to extend myself past my own crap to get to the best part of a friendship.  It ain't easy.  And still I am learning, I am sure I will forever.  And so, that's what I have been talking to my kids about.  That is what our focus is here at home.  Have you been kind?  Is that a nice thing to say?  Would you want a friend like you?  Who did you play with at school today?  Did you share?  Did you let other people make choices and help them feel important?

Graham came home last year off the bus and this was our conversation.

G: Patrick hates me.
M: Graham we don't say that word.
G:  I know, but he does.
M: Why would you say that.
G: Because he doesn't want to sit with me on the bus unless no one else is around.
M: (heart breaking) Well that is his choice.  What is your choice?
G:  To keep trying to sit with him.
M: Well do you want a friend that only likes you when no one else is around? 
G:  No
M:  Do you think Patrick is trying to be mean or simply wants to play and sit with someone else? So what could you do?
G:  Sit with Luke; that's what I have been doing; but I want to sit with Patrick
M: So you only like Luke when Patrick won't sit with you?
G:  Yeah
M:  How do you think that makes Luke feel?

It's tough this friendship business.  We have all been there, people we click with more naturally that we would rather be with or sit with on the bus.  What is the right thing.  To just sit with someone if no one else is around?  To sit with someone you don't really like all that much, but at least they always like you?  Really though, it happens in adulthood.  I have found what I have learned is it's about liking and loving the people you are with in that moment.  Appreciating them for who they are right there.  I can't tell you how many times I have been sat next to someone in a large group and I sigh internally and think "oh great".  But, lately I have been learning what feels good to me isn't having the best conversation- it's finding a common ground and interest with that person anyway.  It doesn't always work out, but it works better, if I am not thinking about what fun I could be having down on the other end of the table.  It's different.  But it's still fun.  I want them to learn to cherish all of their friendships and connections.  That all the effort in life shouldn't go to just pleasing yourself or money or success or hockey.  But, in fact one thing you will never look back and regret is forming a relationship and connection to someone else. 

I don't know how to teach that in everyday ways.  I don't know how to ingrain that into their brains.  I only can show them through my efforts, that being vulnerable is worth it.  That taking a chance and talking to someone you don't think is "cool" sometimes turns out to be- way cool.  Sometimes it doesn't.  Sometimes people reject you.  They look at you like a freak and don't want to take the time to know you.  Sometimes people simply don't click and get along and that's fine too.  It doesn't make them bad or mean.  It also doesn't make you bad or mean.  It just simply means it's time to move forward to a new relationship. 

All I know is never in my life have I felt more supported and enveloped in love and friends have everything to do with it.  It is pretty spectacular to know that they love me for me.  Not for only parts of me.  Not that they can't get irritated with me.  Not that we don't see things differently sometimes.  Not that we aren't worlds apart in some arenas of life.  But, still we connect.  We find interests, common bonds, emotions and connect.  I love the diversity of my friends.  I am proud that I have some with chickens and goats; some living in high rises; some with 5 kids; some with none; some married; some divorced; republicans; democrats; atheists; Catholics.  You name it- they stretch a long divide.  I love them and am so grateful they stretch to reach me too.  They say you are the 5 people you spend the most time with.  It's important this friendship business.

lessons

I realize I have been a totally awful blogger lately, I mean once a month is so lame.  Building a house and summer with 4 kids take most of my time- my relaxation in form of really crap TV or going out with friends fills the rest.  Mostly if I am blogging rarely it's a good thing, meaning life is flowing and going well.  I have a million topics always swirling in my head wanting a place to purge them and well that is what finds me here tonight.

 For the most part, we cruise along in life- days turn into weeks, we create memories, laugh and celebrate the life we were given.  It isn't easy our life, but funny enough, Jeremy and I generally don't talk or dwell very much on what we or our children could have had.  We spend most of our time dwelling on what is.  And what that is is pretty dang awesome.  Yet, there are times when we are jolted back to reality.  In those times, I always find the most learning I have to do is right there waiting.

We recently went to Jeremy's brothers wedding and Graham and Audrey were both in it, along with Jeremy.  So, what was I going to do with two babies, because despite the fact that Nolan is almost 3, he is a baby in so many ways.  I hate that feeling.  The feeling of helplessness.  That if I had typical kids, even one of them that didn't need to be carried or could be "controlled" by predictable ways, like suckers, tv, something; we could have brought them.  It races through my head especially during major events like this.  Even more so- maybe Nolan would have been in the wedding- well since two other 3 year olds were and of course they did beautifully.  I can't tell you that doesn't eat me up inside.  Bring tears to my eyes.  I can't tell you I don't want to scream- "why is this so damn hard!".  Because I do all of those things.  The moments flow through as quickly as the tears dry up.  We spent a wonderful weekend soaking up every minute with our amazing "big kids".  We tell ourselves this time is good for us and them, to have our attention and be able to do family things without major stress that babies bring.  We tell ourselves, just pretend we have twins that are a year old- we would leave them right?  It's OK to leave half your clan behind right?  The guilt is a strong hold on my heart. 

There are moments I catch my breath as if I am betraying them by not including them.  I tell myself it's because of their abilities not because of their disability.  It's weird though, like you are phony, pretending to be a family when half of you is gone.  Like you are hiding something- I can't explain it.  Impossible really.  I was taking a zillion photos, occupying my time with children duties and chatting up a storm, normal behavior.  Along with some cocktails of course.  I was trying to get pics of relatives and families together and someone asked to take ours and we both stopped and looked at each other and said, "nope, that's ok."  There is something that stirs deep within when we see a photo of Graham and Audrey and us and no babies in it.  As if we left half of us out.  Why would we want that photo?  It isn't our family.  I know, totally crazy, just our thing.  Then after I took this photo of Jeremy's parents and the grandkids- it was perfection, I imagninged putting it on canvas for them in their living room, and it dawned on me, I forgot the other two, just like that I vanished them and guilt hit again.


Our life isn't just perfect photos and parties.  It isn't a gorgeous house and new shoes.  It isn't flawless hair and smiling children.  It is complicated and messy.  Just like yours I assume.  You realize that the more you get to know people.  Everyone's life is messy.  It's all they know.  This is all we know.  So now that I told you the nitty gritty of dirty, let me let you in on the miracle of roots that come from that soil. 

12 days prior to leaving I found myself with no one to take the babies (long story), so I scrambled, calling relatives, babysitters, trying to mold together times that someone could watch two babies alone at our home while we were in another state!  It's not like I could just find a sitter on craigslist!
 I knew our friends would help, but they have their own children and busy summer plans.  And truth be told it's literally impossible for me to ASK!  So I leaned on family, it is NOT easy for me, in fact prior to these babies, I wouldn't have done it. Prior to these babies- short of being in a coma- I rarely ask for help.  It's a really, really bad trait.  To act as if you never need anyone or anything.  Because I say "act" intentionally.  We all NEED someone and something...sometimes.  So, this acting gig of mine was up.  I actually 100 percent couldn't do it without help.  And there I was in a vulnerable state yet again.  Cursing for having to ask and be vulnerable, wanting to retreat and forget a wedding was even happening.  It's ridiculous isn't it?  I mean I love when I can help someone, it literally fills me, so to rob others of that and to not let them love me back, well that's just stupid. And so, my amazing cousin, who seriously loves our babies and children better than me- and is only 23- came and slept alone in the Abe Lincoln house and rocked them, played with them, sent me videos and pics.  My Aunt Deb joined in the giving and spent the next night and enjoyed some baby time for herself.  And my Aunt Ruth and our babysitter filled in the rest.  They sent me texts of the giggles and praised me on how sweet and well they did.  They shared with me the amount of energy and patience it takes and how impressed they were I did it every day.  They celebrated their accomplishments first hand watching how they have grown.  They embraced their sweet arms and kissed their cheeks and learned some sign language in the process.  Ultimately, we all grew a little closer.  I trusted them with my most valued treasures and they gave me the greatest gift, love and trust that they could care for them.  They were generous with their time amidst their busy lives filled with their demands and on short notice came through and showed up for us.  I can't thank them enough. 

The lesson isn't lost on me that I wouldn't have done this without Down Syndrome and Trisomy 9.  I simply wouldn't have been in that vulnerable of a place that needed people to help.  I wouldn't have known the feeling one gets when those around you rally for you and your family.  To receive that cements in me the willingness to give as much as I can.  On the surface, we may look like our life is perfect and heck almost easy, but it isn't.  We need people, and we are so happy they need us too.  The lessons kept on coming...

When we arrived to the hotel- Jeremy's biological dad is literally in the room next to us, who we haven't seen or spoken with in years despite our best efforts to be loving and kind, we don't meet him with anger or resentment.  Our hearts are healed in so many ways.  We don't have room for baggage of hate and anger.  We have peace.  I was so proud of Jeremy in his speech at the reception for acknowledging his parents and their participation in the wedding and naming Jim and his wife.  He didn't have to do that.  But, always, always he rises to the occasion and does the right thing.  Not sure without our path that would have been as easy as it was for him or us.  Have no idea how they felt or what they thought, but that's just it, it doesn't matter anymore.  We are at peace with us.  Our choices, our path.   

 Every moment I turned and saw beauty, a bride glowing, her step-daughter grinning ear to ear; my beautiful girl ready to walk down that aisle. 

 Little girl shoes and feet, I could hardly take them!  They were so cute.  Their smiles, their hair, their dresses, their spirits. 

 And we danced, for hours, at this point, I put the camera away, no pics, sorry.  You will just have to imagine Graham and Audrey going strong for three hours and Jeremy and I taking turns to keep up.  We smiled at each other more than once wishing Nolan was there, he would have loved the music and dancing, loved it.  It was a glorious weekend of celebration and love and life lessons learned.

baby steps

Wow, it's been an exciting time around here.  We moved and are all settled in to the "Abe" house.  It's been fun and exciting to change it up a bit and explore a little ole town just south of the river town we call home.  We have spent days walking to the local bakery eating delicious pastries.  Spent mornings eating yummy breakfast in the grass on picnic tables at the local cafe.  Had play dates at parks around town, so far three and also the local watering hole that includes an awesome bowling alley.  It's been a blast, having fires with friends at night, walking to the river and hanging with family.  No complaints, ok ants and random leaks not so fun, but all fixed, thanks to our awesome landlord, aka my uncle! 

So many gaps to fill you in on, EJ turned one and no big Robbins party happened.  It was by choice.  About a week prior I had a total emotional breakdown.  The really, really ugly cry kind and everything in life hit me hard.  I hate those days.  I love them because friends get bonded closer, this girl lovingly and gently got me through.  Her man mixed up some cocktails and yummy bites to eat and there we sat in a suburban yard while I wept, screamed, pondered and freaked.  We discussed life's deep topics and ways to resolve hurt.  We muddled through history of pains and origins of bad habits.  The life we are leading now compared with the life we pictured back then.  It's what real friendships are made of.  The interweaving of thoughts and ideas, support and love.  Those kind of connections don't happen overnight.  They slowly meld from a haggard mom story to a complaining about husband rant to drinks late into a Thursday night to a couples event on a Saturday in Minneapolis.  Then one late, lazy Sunday afternoon, a phone call from a total meltdown where you ponder the bridge your crossing and it looking like a rather good option of escape from your doomsday.  And she is there, your friend that you have carefully cared for and listened to and shared with for years.  Yep, those connections, those moments, they can't happen without all the dirty, nasty, reality of your innards exposed outwardly.  Without a wonderful word- vulnerability. 

Our world is scary sometimes, for all of us.  I have been learning a valuable lesson as of late.  It involves baby steps.  I seem to want to sprint and rather fly to my next destination, glossing over all that lies in between.  Lately I have realized the marrow, the heart, the everything of life, is in fact that in between.  It was so perfectly illustrated on July 3, this year.  Shortly after my life breakdown, for when it is dark, there is always light.  I had decided not to celebrate EJ's 1st birthday in a grand fashion.  Hard for me to admit that, as it seems rather awful.  But, nonetheless it is honest.  I just couldn't bring myself to prop him up to a cake that he wouldn't eat and watch his head tilt as I propped him up in a sitting contraption.  I remember too freshly Nolan's 1st birthday and a similar scene and it broke my heart to repeat it.  So, I bought some cupcakes and scooped some ice cream, I dug out a single random candle and the kids and Jeremy and I sang and we blew out the candle and voila, happy birthday EJ.  It was short and sweet and surprisingly the kids didn't seem to notice the lack of grandiosity.  Perhaps it was because the opening act superseded the main event.  Moments prior to our gathering to sing, Nolan decided it was time to take steps himself.  After 2 years and 10 months our lil Nol's decided to take 4 wobbly, glorious, perfect steps to daddy.  Over and over he signed more with giggles and cheers from his most supportive fans- Graham and Audrey.  It was a moment let me tell you.  It was a moment in life that you stop and realize it's all here, all right here that the goodness is found.  If you take baby steps.  Enjoy the baby steps.  Recognize baby steps are how everything in life are formed.  Marathons are run step by step.  Houses are built nail by nail.  Relationships are constructed a laugh and cry at a time. 

I have been pushing and rushing for a long time, still do find myself in the whirlwind of crazy, running out the door to well...what? an appointment, an event, a reservation, no need to rush.  Step by step, moment by moment, slow it down.  All the good in our lives is now.  This crazy time with two rather needy babies and two more fun, but rather demanding children.  These are the moments that I have been rushing to all of my life and now it's time to enjoy the baby steps that are building the ones in the future.