So clearly I remember the words spoken in a hospital room far from home. She may dress herself, someday. I was twenty-two years old. Alone but for that student doctor and a child so fresh from within me. I had never really known anyone with Down syndrome, so when I asked the question it was… Continue reading Someday
Category: friends don’t count chromosomes
Two ways to live
When still we were learning the ropes of Down syndrome we joined a support group–Up with Downs. Mostly we benefited from seeing with our own eyes children with Down syndrome who could walk and talk and read and write. Mostly we were encouraged by first-hand accounts of the unspeakable joy that comes hand in hand… Continue reading Two ways to live
Whispers in the dark
I have this phrase I’ve been saying to the kids for years: I worked so hard to grow you! The unsaid followup–of course–carrying with it more meaning than what is actually spoken. That is, since I worked so hard to grow you, the least you could do in return is this one teensy weensy thing.… Continue reading Whispers in the dark
On kind words
The bus pulls right up to the house and honks. I watch through the glass as she struggles to get her backpack in place and then she pulls the lever to open the doors–the bus driver lets her do it. She trudges up the driveway with heavy steps, tired from the effort of her full… Continue reading On kind words
Ever more
There was this one curve in the road, at least a quarter-mile long. The speed limit was lower on that length of the road, square yellow signs with arrows guiding you around. It was November and my baby girl was taped, tubed and bundled in the hospital I left behind. It was cold but bright. … Continue reading Ever more
nuances of you
On your shelf there is a stack of pajamas a foot high. You are free to choose whichever suits you. Despite the variety available, you always choose the mint green and pink plaid pants with the ruffled cuffs and the Life is Good, Schnoodles Make it Better shirt. First thing you do each morning is… Continue reading nuances of you
the circle
Last Wednesday the kids and I sat around the dinner table (Jeff was on business travel) sharing stories from our respective days. Because it was Wednesday I knew that the highlight of Cassidy’s day would be her circle of friends gathering. It’s a lunchtime get-together with a handful of girls. They all meet in the… Continue reading the circle
She Doesn’t Know
I was driving. My four-year-old, Jayce, was buckled into his booster behind me. “Mommy,” he said. “Why doesn’t Cassie know how to tie? I tie stuff all the time.” He does. Lengths of “rope” (scarves) are among his most valuable treasures. Should you ever find yourself in my house you’d better beware; you could happen… Continue reading She Doesn’t Know
Team Cass
Among the gifts in our life? Team Cass. Team Cass is comprised of Miss Amy (her parapro), Miss Garrison (her teacher), and Mrs. Rudd (the Incusion Specialist). I love them each. Every single one. Tonight we had Team Cass over for a bbq. We sat around the table and talked (too much, in my opinion)… Continue reading Team Cass
Llama Llama, Lick Your Mama
Are you a reader who appreciates me “being real”? I only ask because I’m about to be really real. And if you’re not a reader who appreciates that side of me you best avert your eyes. Fair warning. My topic of choice? Cassidy. My third child. The wild one. Also known as the burping, farting… Continue reading Llama Llama, Lick Your Mama
Every Rose
I couldn’t get her out the door fast enough this morning. It was one of those no I don’t wanna you’re stupid I don’t love you mornings. One of those mornings when an ugly seed plants itself in her belly. And so abruptly it blooms – sprouting angry, hateful words. They grow from the pit… Continue reading Every Rose
Both Hands
When she first came along–on a Thanksgiving morning ten years ago–I loved her with the whole of my heart. With my eyes. With my mind. With both hands. With one hand I held her close, and with the other, my fingers lightly brushed her forehead, her almond eyes, her bitty nose. When the doctor came… Continue reading Both Hands