Before the pool was even full...

Someone had to stand in the way of the water. It should be fun keeping this guy out of the pool all summer long! Paige has been in three times, and is having a blast - she is getting so much great exercise for her legs!

Advice to myself...

I stole this idea from Dave. He read an article in a magazine where celebrities wrote a letter from their "adult me" to their "teenage me."

I thought this was a great idea - I'm always writing letters to my children, and just the other day, Dakotah and I were discussing this...how sometimes I write her a letter and give it to her, and sometimes I just tuck it away. I told her it made me feel good to know that when I am dead and gone, and she is going through all of my "stuff" that she will find pieces of her life and words of wisdom from her Mom in places she least expected it. In fact, I would like to add the words, "whisper words of wisdom" to the edge of my tattoo - because I think that's one of my most important jobs as a Mom.

So, here is my letter to 15-year old me, on my birthday!

Dear Betsy,

Today, you are 15. Later tonight, your friends will throw you a surprise birthday party in Kathy's basement. It will be one of the first sort of girl-boy parties you have, and you will remember this party for years to come.

You're just beginning to grow up, and although it may seem slow to come to you now, adulthood is just around the corner. I wish I could offer you the wisdom of the years in the way that a 15-year-old could understand. Enjoy your high school years with vigor - laugh often, study hard, and avoid high school drama.

In a couple of years, you will be voted most likely to succeed in your graduating class, along with most sensitive and, ironically, best couple. Just to let you know, that best couple thing isn't really going to work out, as your long time high school boyfriend is actually gay. He's gonna figure that one out in a few years, and you are going to have to take the ribbing of people who tell you that you 'scared him gay.' But, not to worry, there will be a few other suitors along the path over the next few years.

You should really listen to the advice of some of your teachers, especially your English teacher, Mr. Gigi, who tells you over and over again that you are a writer - that its natural and easy and fluid in you. Don't be so worried that its not a real job - give it your all, and maybe it will be. Believe him when he tells you words are powerful, and that you have the power...

Oh, and take advice from your business teacher too - even though you are learning to type on a manual typewriter, and can fling that carriage halfway across the room faster than most, this talent will soon be obsolete. You won't even believe what its eventually replaced with. Still, she has some good advice - sit up straight, put your feet flat on the floor, no chewing gum and DON'T LOOK AT THE KEYS.

And as long as we're listening to advice from teachers, keeping one body space between you and the next person is always a good idea too. ;)

That permed hair of yours - you're going to wonder what the hell you were thinking someday. Same goes for that blue eyeshadow, the turned up collar on your shirt, and the three piercings in each ear. You're probably still going to love the smell of Love's Baby Soft and Jovan Musk though.

And I'm pretty sure that you'll re-discover clogs in the form of Birkinstocks at some point in your life.

Don't believe it when people tell you that you can't change the world. Its nonsense, and uttered only by people who don't realize the power of one person, of paying it forward, and of remembering to be grateful.

Some things you might consider NOT doing in the next few years - getting into bars underage on the arm of your brother-in-law, mooning a policeman at a town hall dance, showing up at a Halloween party dressed as Woodstock from Peanuts, only to realize its more of a drag queen kind of party, popping out of a birthday cake, winning a "party naked" t-shirt, harrassing the Chuck E Cheese mouse...

And if you decide not to take my advice and still do those things, be glad that this thing called "Facebook" has not yet been invented.

Be prepared for lots of surprises in your life. At 15, you cannot even imagine what the next 30 years will bring you - the friends you will make, the friends you will lose, the jobs you will have, the journeys you will take. Relish them all, and realize they are all forming a part of who you are and who you become. Shake off the bad stuff, and fall to your knees and thank God for the good stuff.

I know you love school - spend your life being a student. Absorb the world like a sponge, learning life's lessons in places that you least expect to find them. Remember, everyone has a story, and those stories are what make us human. Share yours and take great interest in others.

When you are voted Most Sensitive, it will be because you are an emotional person...something you will debate over and over again whether that is a good thing or not. Don't mistake being sensitive for not being strong. You are going to surprise yourself and everyone who knows you with your strength in the years to come. You are going to learn to appreciate that you love deeply, cry often, and laugh even more. You will understand and be grateful and you will not want to change that.

You will be blessed. Many, many times over. You will look back on your life often and be so surprised at the journey. But, you will not wish it away; you will celebrate it.

Its gonna be a great life - see ya in 30 years.

Betsy

I'm Still Alive!

Wow, I just realized its been nearly a month since my last blog post. I'm pretty low on the hierarchy scale for the computer lately, as Dakotah works to finish up her year end projects for school, and Wayne is busy scheduling for Little League Baseball for the summer.

Its that crazy, fun time of the year where its busy and fun, but almost too busy to be any fun, lol.

The girls have just a few weeks of school left. Dakotah will be halfway through high school in just three weeks. She has had a few meetings at school to try and pick her courses for the next two years, with the "what do you want to be when you grow up" thought behind it.

She really isn't sure, and is really a bit stressed about it, so afraid she will make a wrong choice, or that life will somehow throw her a curve ball that she can't anticipate, and that she will wish she had taken another path.

Of course, life is a journey, not just a path, and no matter what she decides now, she will encounter lots of surprises in the years that follow. Heck, I'm 45 and still probably cannot answer that "what do you want to be when you grow up" question.

Maybe, I'm just not sure I'm all that grown up yet. :)

I want to give her great wings to fly, and want her to know that the world is hers for the grabbing, but I do it all with a big lump in my throat, knowing how fast she has grown up before my very eyes.

We look forward to new phases in her life with great anticipation, and a tiny bit of bittersweet "seize the moment" flavour.

She is such a great kid, and so far, fingers crossed, these teen years have been no more trying than a constant quest to keep her room clean...a quest I simply cannot seem to succeed at, no matter how much I nag at her to do it.

Paige is doing wonderfully - she is not walking on her own yet, but she loves being outside, and begs to go for a walk at least 10 times a day. She loves being outside, even if it means in a stroller for right now.

We are installing a pool for the summer, and I'm so happy for that - both girls love the water, and it will be so good for Paige's physical strength. I'm going to want to sneak way from work many afternoons, I'm sure!

Life is strolling along at a very normal pace for all of us now, and I'm not going to complain about that at all!

What a lovely night

My friend, Camille's, daughter had her Confirmation on Monday night. I don't know if you can tell, but if you look closely at her left hand, she has her fingers crossed - she is either making a wish, or telling a lie, rofl.

I was so honoured and happy to be her sponsor. It was such a magical night - Emma was so sweet, and so adorable, and so affectionate all night long. Every time she looked at me, my heart melted.

As I said to Camille, it was as if the Bishop were tying our heart strings together as he Confirmed her. I felt so bonded to her, and tied to her soul in an incredible way. Every few minutes, she would just gently pat my hand, or kiss me so softly. We were both just adoring one another.

I know we all go through times early on when we feel like everyone is looking at our children because they have Down syndrome. We worry that people are staring at us or making judgments about us.

That feeling eventually goes away, and I can't even remember the last time I worried, or even thought about anyone noticing Paige had T21.

But Monday night, well....I really felt like all eyes were on us. There were probably 50 children with parents and sponsors at the Cathedral, and I felt like every single parent and sponsor was looking at Emma and me - with envy and jealousy that *I* got the privilege of standing beside her, putting my hand on her shoulder, and praying for her. I felt like every set of eyes in the room was looking at us, wishing they could be us, as we snuggled and hugged through the service.

My heart nearly burst when Emma was standing on the kneeler in front of me, and reached around and took my hand to put it on the pew in front of her, so I was protecting her on both sides, and then, as if it weren't just right, she took both my hands and wrapped them around her waist. I could have fainted from pure joy at that moment.

As I whispered to her over and over again at the end of the ceremony "Thank God for you, Em, thank God for you."

Baby Michael

Today, Paige had a dentist appointment at CHEO. The clinics at CHEO are lined up and down a long corridor on one wing of the hospital. There aren't too many of those clinics that we haven't visited at one time or another - audiology, neurology, opthamology, general surgery, etc.

The dentist's office shares the same waiting room as the neurology department. While we were waiting for Paige to go in and have her teeth cleaned, we were people watching as we often do. Paige love, love, loves to people watch, and is content to sit and do it for a very long time. She loves being in a mall where she can see many people come and go.

For me, I am a dreamer, I guess, and I believe that everyone has a story to tell. When I people watch with Paige, I try to imagine the story that I would be told if I were brave enough to ask - imagine the beautiful, maybe heart-wrenching stories I could learn from an old lady out buying lottery tickets, or a little girl happily buying her first pair of school shoes.

So, it was with this kind of absent minded dreaminess that Paige and I saw baby Michael. Now, I have no idea if that was his name, but I think he kind of looked like a Michael. He was about 3 or 4 months old, dressed in a navy blue and tan plaid shirt with little khaki pants on and a sprig of white blonde hair on the top of his head.

Baby Michael and his parents were coming out of the neurology department, and both mom and dad were visibly upset. Dad was nearly gasping for air, as tears streamed down his face, and he struggled to hold it together. He was clinging to his son for dear life. Mom was red-faced, and tear stained, with that deer-in-the-headlights look that is never good.

They were escorted across the hall, to the surgery clinic. Once they were left alone for a minute, Mom folded into Dad's arms and they rocked back and forth and just hung on to one another, rubbing baby Michael's back as they did.

Within a minute, they were again whisked away into an office.

I so wanted to shoot them magic words bubbles - and I'm not even sure what those words would be. All in a moment's time, I wanted to tell them that it was o.k., that they were in good hands, that they were strong, that the love they had for their baby would make them nearly limitless in what they could endure for him. Maybe I wanted to say, "I know, I know" or "I understand."

But, of course, I don't know much of anything, other than they had just received devastating news of some sort.

I pray that the desperation that I witnessed was fear - fear before acceptance of something that could perhaps be fixed, something that would allow them to love and cherish their dear boy for years and years to come.

I pray that the days ahead for them are good ones, that the life lessons that are about to be thrust upon whether they asked for them or not, are good ones.

Most of all, we prayed for baby Michael tonight...a sweet little boy who's story or name we will never really know.

But, I'm sure when Paige and I said our prayers, Our Good Lord knew exactly who we meant.

Why do I do the things I do?

After bragging last week that I haven't had a cold in five years - what happens?? Yep - I get a cold - a bad one - one worthy of an every five years experience. *cough, cough, sniff* (oh, don't forget *cough, cough, cough, cough, leak pee*)

More Easter fun...

Here is my latest attempt at home-made Easter eggs - truffle-like and filled with chocolate, vanilla, nuts or coconut inspired by Bakerella - yummy, but a little goes a long way - we still have too many left!

These are still in the rough stages, still drying, so there's lots of drippy's on the edges.

Thanks to Dakotah and my friend Julie for their groovy decorating skills!