tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-240082732024-03-17T03:46:11.917-04:00Bits of BetsyDancing with the feet is one thing, but dancing with the heart is yet another.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.comBlogger277125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-51375347275466394102011-03-21T15:53:00.000-04:002011-03-21T15:53:37.826-04:00Today is World Down Syndrome Day!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.worlddownsyndromeday.org/"><img border="0" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZkolzGEreatM_9zWXWKJcGnphLDB1Gk4Eaya6eyXbBTU8WoteQb_IPGk5rNPw-vmzLE91Oy5qKlJ64tM-cGOi7b2Q2UTfRlBTs_D3xWMPEm4z1ZZnlQx0Wgta21cTziC5tN1M6Q/s1600/wdsd.jpg" /></a></div>Today, March 21, marks the 7th anniversary of World Down Syndrome Day. Click on the picture above to learn about this very important day, and to see some of the celebrations all over the world. Today is a day to celebrate the strengths and diversity of people with Down syndrome. <br />
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I've written and re-written a post about 100 times today. I'm sure many of the people who read this blog can relate to my difficulties in writing on such an emotional day. Really, where do I begin? Do I write about the personal journey my family has had with Down syndrome; a journey that began nearly 14 years ago? Do I write about Paige herself, and the incredible young lady she has grown into? Do I write about the many, many other children and adults with Down syndrome that I have come to know, and how each one of them has offered me beautiful and unique insight into life? Do I write about the not-so-happy stories, of children in other countries, who are cast aside, left to die, or perhaps even worse, sent to institutions where they will live out their lives never having known the love of a real family? And, of course, with that, goes the staggering statistics of our own "civilized" world - where in North America, some estimations are that nearly 8 out of 10 women who find out their unborn child has Down syndrome will chose to end that child's life, rather than welcome it into the world?<br />
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But, today is a day of celebration. And celebrate we should. As you can imagine, those of us who have been welcomed into this world of Down syndrome, through the birth or adoption of a child, or the addition of a new family member, or a friend's baby, or even though our interactions with an adult with Down syndrome in our community - today, well, we celebrate; we offer good wishes to one another. We smile that knowing little smile that allows us to tell one another that we get it - we understand how it feels to have your heart open just a little wider - your joy-cup runneth over, and oh, how glorious that feels. <br />
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Today, I celebrate Paige, and her amazing life, and her amazing capacity to love, and find wonder in the world. I can't get enough of this child. My heart bursts open every single morning when she is still sleepy and full of hugs, and it fills with laughter when she points her finger at me, very seriously, and says my name, telling me so very much with that small gesture. <br />
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And through her, and my love for her, my eyes have been opened to a whole world of people with Down syndrome. Its like a force-field, a magnetic draw that pulls me in - where my best fantasies involve being able to spend all my days in a room full of children with Down syndrome - learning and growing, and shooting for the stars. Oh, how we would celebrate when one of those stars were caught! I imagine my world to be aligned just so, just right so I could visit Reese's Rainbow, and bring a few children home, to fill my rooms and my heart to overflowing with 21st chromosomes. <br />
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People with Down syndrome are as unique and diverse in their abilities and desires as people with the typical number of chromosomes are. Some will soar, and run, screaming into the world, "Here I am!! Watch me go!" And others will do it a little slower, a little more quietly, tentatively feeling their way into a world that is sometimes a little scary, a little too big.<br />
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Today is a day of celebration indeed. <br />
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I love someone with Down syndrome.<br />
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I love a lot of someone's with Down sydnrome. <br />
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Do you?Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-84325032700825516232011-02-25T16:00:00.000-05:002011-02-25T16:00:09.961-05:00I May Have Predicted My Own FutureSo with my last two posts, I entered into a sort of premonition/deja vu territory that I never felt the need to venture into. <br />
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I have waxed poetically that if I were indeed a Superhero, I would surely possess the power to make time stand still, to be able to freeze moments of my life, and hold on to them forever. And I have contemplated the fairness of the world; knowing that I stand very much on the upside of the fairness scale - that if the world were indeed fair, I would have to be knocked down a few pegs while others less fortunate than I would rise.<br />
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A few days after those two posts, I should have created yet another post, titled "Be Careful What You Wish For." Because my life sort of took that Superhero turn, and I slid a little on the "its not fair" scale.<br />
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On Superbowl Sunday, I was making cookies with Dakotah and had some sort of blip where I froze in time - dropped the cookie sheet I was holding, stopped talking, stopped laughing - literally just *stopped.* A few seconds later, after Dakotah had repeatedly spoken to me, asked me to pick up the cookies I had dropped, and then started getting mad at me for not acknowledging her, I started again. Just like that, as if someone had snapped their fingers, stopped me in time, allowed the rest of the world to continue, and then snapped me back into it.<br />
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Superhero powers indeed. <br />
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Several doctors appointments later, several tests later, lots of what ifs, and could bes, and maybes, and let's hope nots, it appears that I may have had a stroke that night. There is a 4mm section of dead brain tissue deep in my head that shows it. And lots of unanswered questions about what happened and why. Without the classic risks of high blood pressure and high cholesterol, I'm deemed relatively low risk for such an event. <br />
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With a bit of a colorful medical history of things that have happened in the last ten years, but have resolved themselves, or have been of such little consequence that we did not dig any furher into it, there are lots of possibilities of what may have caused this.<br />
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My reaction to all of this has intriqued me. First, I am strangely curious about how <em>nothing</em> it all was. Nothing in a sense that I couldn't have comprehended before this happened. I have no recall of that 15 or 20 seconds; it wasn't like I was asleep and felt myself wake up, I was very conscious that I had just stopped. I didn't hear anything, see anything, feel anything. There was just....nothing. Such a very strange feeling. I guess I would have expected dancing bunnies or a bright light or <em>something</em>. Instead, just an eery feeling that, for a few brief seconds, life went on without me. <br />
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And then, sitting in my dr's office, as he turned his computer monitor toward me, pointed at the screen with a pen, and said, "you've had a stroke." I wasn't scared or upset or anything. I was just...vulnerable, I guess.<br />
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Honestly, and it makes even me laugh to say this, it was like the first time in my life I've ever realized my own mortality. It was probably the first time in my entire life of lives that I truly realized that I am *not* actually a Superhero, lol - that I am human, and faulted, and defective, and will, someday, eventually die, just like every human before me, and after me. <br />
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I mean, how could that have never occured to me before?<br />
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In the wake of fearing something really sinister, there have been a few "not fair" moments racing around in my head. My children rely on me so much - and its been my greatest blessing to know that however faulted I am, they have always been able to count on me. It would be very rough on them to lose that. <br />
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And yet, I am fully aware that the true question is not "why me" but "why not me." My life is no more precious or valuable than any other. As much as I think about how devastated the world would be without me, lol, I know that it would go on....I even had a momentary glimpse of that in my very own kitchen.<br />
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As the drama of the events are beginning to ebb away now, and its looking like there is at least something fixable going on, I am again humbled. I am incredibly thankful that perhaps what happened that night was a warning sign to me, a signal that something does need to be fixed, and now, I am on the path to fixing it.<br />
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So, while I am currently rethinking my wish for superhero powers that would allow me to freeze time, I also remember how empowered I am as a person, again fueled on by the two true superheroes in my life - knowing that this is a blip I will get through, and one that will once again remind me to smell those roses while I still can....<br />
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Oh, and don't think I'm 100% human just yet - I'm still very much contemplating a hot pink cape flowing behind me as I conquer all these little challenges ahead of me. Really, how rockin' cool would that be?!<br />
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I only hesitate because of the look of sheer horror on my 17 year old daughter's face when I knit my own fingerless gloves, or took out my "Party Naked" sweatshirt that I won in a contest at a bar when I was not so much older than she is now...Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-76670215097938027462011-02-03T19:13:00.000-05:002011-02-03T19:13:29.595-05:00"It's NOT Fair!"Protests my oldest daughter when she is told she has to clean her room, put dirty clothes in the hamper, take care of the clean ones...before she can have the car for the night. <br />
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"Life's not fair," I answer back, not feeling particularly horrible for imposing such a terrible restriction upon her. <br />
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Hmmmm....that's quite a statement there, my girl. You are right - life is not fair. Not often. Maybe not even ever. And thank goodness for that. She thinks life isn't fair because, well, because she is 17. She thinks she has restrictions and rules and impositions, and that I, as the adult, do not. She can't wait to be all grown-up so she can do whatever she wants, whenever she wants. You know, like I do.<br />
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But, we only ever really utter the "life's not fair" credo when we aren't getting something that we want, or when life isn't going as we want. When life is awesome, we don't scream, "This isn't fair!" But maybe that's the time we should think about it the most.<br />
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I venture to guess nothing would humble us much more than comtemplating what true fairness would mean to us. Even keeping the concept of living the 100 Mile Life - where we buy only local food, and support local charities, and attend local festivals, and virtually self-contain our lives within that 100 mile radius - even then, the vast majority of us should be on our knees thanking the Good Lord for making life "not fair."<br />
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As I type this, someone we know is recovering from a devastating fire that took her entire house, every possession she and her 14-year-old son have - all their photographs, all their clothes, the simplest items - socks, a toothbrush, everything, gone. And a co-worker's infant grandson was taken to hospital this morning for an operation for pyloric stenosis. A "routine" operation by most accounts, but when its your tiny baby - and you just found out it was going to happen hours before, it feels anything by routine. So not fair.<br />
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And in that same hospital, no doubt there is a child who is struggling to live - perhaps one just diagnosed with cancer, or a condition that will end his or her life entirely too soon. A moment has happened, and a family's life is forever changed. Not fair, not fair, not fair.<br />
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A 70-car pile up in Montreal yesterday surely reminded many people of what is important to them, even as they deal with the hassle of repairing or replacing cars. No one died, and for that, it was a good day.<br />
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Within a 100 miles of us, a homeless person will walk into a shelter, desperate for a warm place to sleep, a warm plate of food, just as my 'not fair' girl has said, "yuck, we had that last night:" as I put the pot of homemade soup I made yesterday on the stove to heat for dinner. Not fair?<br />
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Within a hundred miles of us, perhaps tonight a marriage is ending, and with it begins a world of change for a husband, a wife, and their children. And although it maybe the best thing that ever happened to their family, tonight, among the sorrow, they will struggle to see it. And our family, for all its imperfections, and there are many, will be together tonight. Not fair?<br />
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And within a hundreds miles of us, maybe someone is planning a second honeymoon to Italy tonight - a trip my family cannot even fathom at the moment. Perhaps a teenager is getting a new car as a reward for a great report card. So not fair, says my teen. <br />
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Someone near us is surely falling in love, celebrating a "+" sign on a pregnancy test, going into labor, making their last mortgage payment. Not fair, thinks I, who's already seen most those milestones, but still remembers them with fondness and longing.<br />
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Somewhere near us, someone is laughing at funny email, smiling at the re-connection of an old friend on facebook. <br />
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Somewhere near us, something bad is happening to a really good person, and something good is happening to a not so good person. So not fair.<br />
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And all of this mixed-up jumbled-up world of fair and unfair; a world that makes perfect sense one moment and then absolutely no sense at the very next is just a part of this crazy thing we call a life.<br />
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May we remember to be thankful when something wonderful and incredible happens to us, and humble when something devastating happens - mostly, may we remember that this life of ours really isn't fair. And especially, may we be among the fortunate to get a taste of each dish - the bitter and the sweet.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-4354192342794943952011-02-02T12:51:00.000-05:002011-02-02T12:51:52.513-05:00FREEZE!If I could be a Superhero, I'd have a big tie-dyed cape, full of swirls of color and pattern - and I'd wear it over a bright pink leotard (hey, its a fantasy, I can imagine for a moment that a bright pink leotard on this body wouldn't send everyone screaming from the room, lol) - and my superhero power would be the ability to scream "FREEZE" at the top of my lungs, and make it so. Imagine being able to freeze moments of your life.<br />
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Because, when I think about my life, I picture a giant puzzle of those frozen moments, all parts and pieces of what make me, me. If someone were to ask me what my favorite trait about myself is, it would be just that - that I am consciously aware of "freeze" moments, while they are happening, and that makes my life feel joyful and content. <br />
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Right now, at this moment, I am living a freeze moment. Its snowing outside. A lot. I'm not a big lover of snow, I don't like to be cold, I hate driving in it, and save for a very few select moments of thinking its beautiful, I tend to shuttle in and out the door, avoiding it at every chance I get. <br />
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But, I'm home from work, my kids are home on a snow day - and this feels good and perfect and right. Dakotah is just waking up, all that hair piled on top of her head, wearing a too-big t-shirt inside out, still sleepy eyed, and mellow. <br />
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What a time in her life for her right now. Starting her last semester of high school, busy on student council; planning next week's school bake sale to benefit abused and neglected children, working on the Valentine's Day dance at school. <br />
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And yesterday, ordering her Prom dress - "the" dress that she has oogled over for nearly six months now. Its ordered for sure for sure, there are no take backs, no chance it will not be in. She is happy and excited we ordered it from NH - glad that no one in her school will have one like it. Its the dress she's talked about for 4 years - knowing she would know it when she found it - and she did.<br />
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She also got accepted to a university yesterday in a BA Honours History program. It's not her #1 choice of schools, but a very close second, and a relief to hear from one school as she waits the others out. Just six months ago, I was terrified of her going off to university in the fall - she was so not ready to take on the world.<br />
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But six months have made a world of difference, and the tide has changed a bit in our house. I can feel the shift of little girl to young woman, and although I wish I had my freezing superpowers many times over the years of her being that little girl, I am incredibly proud and happy for the young woman who has emerged as well. <br />
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She is a bit eccentric, just like I was at her age; and it will serve her well as she ventures out into the world. She will question things, and analyze them. She will see beauty in the world, and injustice as well. She will laugh and cry and fall in love and have her heartbroken. <br />
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And, hopefully, if she has listened to me just a little bit, she will know those moments are all puzzle pieces of her life - all necessary to put the whole picture together. I've told her over and over again to capture the joy of life, to try and realize those moments that she wants to freeze as they happen, and to hold on to them for dear life when she is wishing a different moment will pass very quickly by.<br />
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Paige is sitting near me on the floor, her beloved catalogs, magazines, and books surrounding her; stopping every once in a while to say my name, or show me something in her book. <br />
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Paige's life has the beauty of simplicity that most of us are not blessed to capture. She is a 'live for the moment' girl, and has no worries of what tomorrow will bring. That is an incredible gift if we only allow ourselves to see it. When she is sad, she is sad, and when it is over, it is over. When she laughs, she laughs with her whole heart and soul, and has not a care in the world who is watching.<br />
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She has that innocence of trust with me that grew away way too fast with Dakotah. She still believes me to be her superhero mom - who shows up with a few m&m's in a bowl, or some yummy smelling hand lotion, or a bathing suit with a promise of a dip in the pool in the summer; a mom who can love up a babydoll faster than you can say abracadabra. <br />
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It's these moments - just like this - hanging out in our p.j.'s, with the snow coming down so hard we can't see across the street, with nothing on our to-do list today but making a big pot of homemade soup, painting our fingernails, taking out the crayons, and maybe if my big little girl doesn't protest too much, having a picnic lunch on the living room floor - these moments that I wish my Superhero powers really worked.<br />
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FREEZEBetsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-86409148292928001692010-10-08T16:36:00.001-04:002010-10-08T16:42:33.181-04:00For My T21 SistersYesterday, a mom in our T21 group lost her precious daughter. Renee was 10 years old, and had Down syndrome and Cystic Fibrosis. She was a beautiful little girl, and all of us in our "sisterhood" are reeling from the news - saddened in a deep, soulful way, and wishing we could somehow pray it, or hug it, or wish it away. Why must it be real?<br />
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Some of us have commented today on this community of ours - how we are so ingrained in one another by the simple addition of an extra chromosome into one of our children. How we have extracted so much joy from one another, so much knowledge, so much love. Yet, we have also handled more than our share of saddnesses, as we have had to say good-bye to many that we loved so dearly. There have been too many good-byes, and sadly, there will be more.<br />
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Just yesterday, I was commenting on another friend's blog about that fear of death, especially in our children with special needs. I live every day with that fear in the back of my head. As I said to her, I think it comes from our realization that there truly are no guarantees in this world. <br />
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We have learned that lesson for real, not in the abstract. We know that statistics, like 1 in 800 babies are born with Down syndrome really doesn't mean all that much until you are that one. That the termination rate of 7 or 8 per every 10 diagnosed prenatally is just a number, until your heart aches for the real knowledge of what has been lost. <br />
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We are told that when we become mothers, we learn to wear our hearts outside of our bodies. And all of us would agree that is true. I could never have even begun to comprehend how deeply I could love, how deeply I could be in love, until Dakotah arrived. And it is a sustainable love - 17 years later, and I'm missing her terribly today, as she has been off at Leadership Camp for two days.<br />
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Two days. And I can't wait to get her in the house, to find out about every detail of the last two days. Of course, an hour in to the discussion, I'll forget how quiet it was while she was gone, but I will be happy just the same that she is here.<br />
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I feel the same ache of missing Paige when we are apart. Every day, I am happy and excited to see when her bus arrives. I can't wait to talk to her, and just be near her. <br />
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And perhaps its because Dakotah has begun to spread her arms widely and is ready to fly away a bit that I don't feel quite the same frailty with her as I do with Paige. Paige needs me for nearly every aspect of her life, and most likely, it will always be that way. I will be happy and honoured to feel needed by her until my days have come to an end.<br />
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Perhaps its because we are aware that there is a very real campaign for eliminating children with T21. Perhaps its because we are aware that sometimes our little ones are born with very real health problems; health problems that make things like developmental delays seem like a walk in the sun. Perhaps its because so many of us have held vigil for one another's children, as we've prayed, and hoped, and celebrated, and cried.<br />
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And, perhaps its because each of us have been thrust, either softly, lovingly, or cruelly and forcefully into a world we knew nothing about. Each of us carries in our souls that story - that story of when we first found out that T21 would play a significant role in our lives. Some of us knew prenatally, some of us knew only at birth. Some of us received the news in sweet, wonderful ways, and some of us, not so much.<br />
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Regardless, we all carry that "freeze frame" moment. That exact moment when we realized our lives had changed significantly, drastically, forever. That moment swept us off our feet, and hit us with the realization that a single moment, a blink of an eye, a nanosecond on a clock, can make our hearts stop beating for a second, can make the whole room feel like one single speck of light.<br />
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Since that moment, we have been engrained into one another's hearts, knowing that that single moment empowered us, made us stronger, made us laugh longer and cry harder. That moment, someone turned the light switch on, and our souls opened a bit wider - just wider enough to fit an extra chromosome into. <br />
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We live with great joy, great celebration, great pride in our children. We spend most of our days in awe of our luck - the luck of having these amazing people in our lives.<br />
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And, we live with a tiny little spot in the back of our minds that won't quite let us forget that real life is just that - fleeting, dashing, flitting about in front of us, begging us to hold on while we can, because we never quite know when it will change again, in just that blink.<br />
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For my T21 friends, and sisters, who are all wishing we could erase that cyberspace between us right now; who have laughed and cried and celebrated with me, I want you to know you are all very real. <br />
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?" <br />
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"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real." <br />
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"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit. <br />
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"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt." <br />
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"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?" <br />
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"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-37115471868979935572010-09-16T10:28:00.003-04:002010-09-16T10:44:57.925-04:00My Poor BlogMy poor blog has fallen victim to evil Facebook! I so often feel like I have a post to make, and then get distracted, and don't make it. Its as if I'm overwhelmed by all the different things I want to post that I end up posting nothing!<br /><br />At any rate, Fall is arriving here at our house, the mornings are cool and everyone has their official back-to-school cough and cold. Dakotah has entered her Senior year at high school, and has hit the ground running. She is heading off to Leadership Camp in a few weeks, and is busy helping organize that. She is on student council, and student council is very active in her school. This morning, she left the house with lots of "spirit" clothes for spirit day, and is part of her school's improv group that is meeting at *yikes* 7 a.m. some mornings. That means her leaving the house at 6:15, and getting up at 5:30. What a big change from her lazy days of summer where I would finally get exasperated at her at 2 p.m. and tell her "enough already!" - get out of bed!!!<br /><br />Paige is in Grade 7 this year, and has switched schools, as well as school boards. This means a whole lot of new people to meet, a whole new building, new routines, and lots of new things to get used to, for both of us. So far, it has been an incredibly good choice. The school has been so very welcoming to her, geniunely wanting to learn about her, and to meet her needs. Her classroom teacher seems amazing so far, and is so good at inclusion for her. He has a son with autism, who is quite a bit younger than Paige, so perhaps he is seeing his future in her eyes in a way, and wanting to make her classroom experience positive.<br /><br />It seems everywhere we go, we are always meeting new people who's lives have somehow been touched in a positive way by someone with developmental delays, or physical disabilities. What a blessing this journey has continued to be for our family.<br /><br />I took the summer off from my job, to spend with my kids. It was glorious, and in the fashion of Seinfeld's "Summer of George", I lavished in it. It was so nice to be near them every day, literally spending every moment of the summer with Paige, and as many as Dakotah's busy social schedule would allow. We swam and soaked in the sun, and cooked on the barbeque, and went on little road trips, and did all of those things that we wouldn't have been able to do if I had worked. We even watched Big Brother, lol.<br /><br />So. now I am job hunting, and sort of excited to see what the next adventure in life will bring to me. Always the optimist, I continue to feel as if I have a real purpose here on this great big planet, and know that the opportunity to explore that still lays before me in some form. <br /><br />I guess that is really the essence of life - to look forward to what is to come, happy to know it will be as awesome as we allow it to be, and sure that we can handle to stumble stones along the way.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-14743103039037277722010-01-01T11:24:00.002-05:002010-01-01T11:39:42.790-05:00Happy New Year!Wow - 2010 is here! And so....here we come 2010!<br /><br />Its a quiet day in my house, the snow is falling steady and lightly outside, Dakotah is still sleeping, Paige is watching her Sesame Street New Year video for the 200th time, and I'm trying to be all reflective and contemplative.<br /><br />I'm contemplating resolutions, and wondering which ones I should make, which ones I should ignore, and which ones I might actually keep! I'm not feeling ready to gear up for a brand new year just yet, so I think I'm going to wallow in this semi-holiday weekend, and commit only on Monday.<br /><br />One thing I have thought a lot about for the new year is where my blog is going. Since joining facebook, I have sorely neglected blogging. I have always maintained that I wanted my blog to be a sort of gift to my children - a chronicle of their daily lives, my thoughts as a Mom as I raised them, and a place where they would know the real me - free of the everyday stuff like laundry that never ends, lol.<br /><br />As Dakotah gets older, I'm more cautious about what I post about her, as she has the right to pick and choose what stories I share, no matter how cute or funny I think they are. :) She is so quickly becoming a young woman, and not only my oldest daughter, but a wonderful friend as well.<br /><br />I think, especially as Moms, we hold so much history for our children - stories that are never remembered or repeated except by us. Family histories, and just funny moments we hold on to of our kids that only we share. <br /><br />Its something I've always thought about - how so much of that goes with us, and unless we get it down, it gets forgotten.<br /><br />A couple of months ago, I stumbled about a great idea, called <a href="http://www.debtproofliving.com/Articles/ViewArticle/tabid/179/smid/657/ArticleID/532102/Default.aspx">"Journal In A Jar"</a> which is basically a series of questions that are posed to help you get started on writing down the important stuff. I think this would be such a wonderful gift to give to someone - and then, in return, a wonderful gift to receive when it was all done - the chronicles of someone's life.<br /><br />So, because my blog means so much to me, and because I've slacked off on the every day musings of our life, I will be relying on some of these questions to keep my posts going. Randomly, I'll post a question and then journal about it, in no particular order other than what catches my eye on that day.<br /><br />I hope some of my friends and readers will find some inspiration and lead me to their blogs where they answer some of these same questions. And who knows, some of you may find yourselves the subject of my day's post! :)Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-24570788870259845152009-12-27T13:39:00.002-05:002009-12-27T13:53:07.892-05:00Merry Christmas!It seems impossible that Christmas has come and gone already. It was just yesterday that all the commotion in our house was celebrating Dakotah's 16th birthday.<br /><br /><div align="justify">This year we were especially thankful for the health of our family. This was the first Christmas in three years that Paige has not been in a full body cast, laid out on the floor on her back to open presents. She is so close to walking again - but progress is slow, and she is unsure of herself, still afraid to take those first adventerous steps.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">She is such a good kid - so good natured and easy going. So many routines have been tipped upsidedown over the last few weeks, and she thrives on routine. Still, she has handled it all like she always does - taking like as it comes, and smiling all the way.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">Dakotah has enjoyed her holiday off - she is the typical teenager - crawling out of bed very late in the morning or even early afternoon. Its always in the back of my head that there are just a couple of years left for her to be in our little nest, for our Christmas to be like it is, and not just her coming home from school, etc.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">She is gearing up to exams and big semester projects due in the next couple of weeks. She is enjoying that newly acquired driving licence - and wanting to drive everywhere, all the time. With all the freezing rain we have had over the past few days, she is quite bummed when we tell her no!</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">I hope all of my friends and family had wonderful holidays and created memories that will last a lifetime!</div>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-75939084066260694772009-10-21T03:19:00.002-04:002009-10-21T03:21:56.241-04:00Another party picture!Dakotah even had tie dye jello shooters (non-alcoholic) at her party. How fun are these?!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZdih_oxBIPcIzqaL4PVDviMpHuUPEwz-SR2oMvNuksvh6kI4q1_xriC6r-sg1wHGMkNJHSafLl3cI4zJKHcmTCl-r8eRW1IqrDUldCEjT-SqlqJOaXkVDY4Wk3xeJEctxqaokQ/s1600-h/jello.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyZdih_oxBIPcIzqaL4PVDviMpHuUPEwz-SR2oMvNuksvh6kI4q1_xriC6r-sg1wHGMkNJHSafLl3cI4zJKHcmTCl-r8eRW1IqrDUldCEjT-SqlqJOaXkVDY4Wk3xeJEctxqaokQ/s320/jello.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394950092968914098" border="0" /></a>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-91715139684646904632009-10-19T19:25:00.009-04:002009-10-19T19:49:13.229-04:00You're 16 - You're Beautiful - And You're Mine!Well, mine for a little while longer at least.<br /><br />Dakotah turned 16 on Saturday. We ushered the night in 60's style, with retro clothes, lots of Beatles music, tie dye stuff, and peace signs, baby. Add in a dinner and dance, and a fun bartender for mocktails, and the night was fantastic.<br /><br />I hope Dakotah remembers the night for years to come. She wrote on her facebook page that night:<br /><br /><h3 style="font-style: italic;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{"type":"msg"}"><span class="UIStory_Message">“Life gives us brief momen</span><span class="UIStory_Message">ts with</span><span class="UIStory_Message"> an</span><span class="UIStory_Message">other...but some</span><span class="UIStory_Message">times in those brief moments we get me</span><span class="UIStory_Message">m</span><span class="UIStory_Message">orie</span><span class="UIStory_Message">s that la</span><span class="UIStory_Message">st a life time...”</span></h3>So true...<br /><br />Here are some pictures of her magical night.<br /><br />Getting ready for the night with her friends Alex and Jess:<br /><br /><br /><br /><h3 style="font-style: italic;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{"type":"msg"}"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj48LK1ea4hCHdhTgdNI1jI79tsPxymDvA5vrmPHVCxeiiumKcHz4HuvMMBih18ytYTwL3E4TmkLufODX7Fj0ANStyuwgSb3sHiIQdLIGcKMdsly5RRMb_ACfVcfT00fKRkip2Fw/s1600-h/girls2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj48LK1ea4hCHdhTgdNI1jI79tsPxymDvA5vrmPHVCxeiiumKcHz4HuvMMBih18ytYTwL3E4TmkLufODX7Fj0ANStyuwgSb3sHiIQdLIGcKMdsly5RRMb_ACfVcfT00fKRkip2Fw/s320/girls2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394459756193719410" border="0" /></a></h3> <h3 style="font-style: italic;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{"type":"msg"}"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7gOIGKEt9K3dEl6MC17HaDGmjwmSOLJbJKfLNd7fE1uoXKDEqeQ1Azz6KJZRBeh2wBaroML8drUn_qW0Z5mEY4rSNjundR-PWm7Nre4qeFg0dOcz4WlvJwSwDs5T1c1XX4S0Iw/s1600-h/toyou.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7gOIGKEt9K3dEl6MC17HaDGmjwmSOLJbJKfLNd7fE1uoXKDEqeQ1Azz6KJZRBeh2wBaroML8drUn_qW0Z5mEY4rSNjundR-PWm7Nre4qeFg0dOcz4WlvJwSwDs5T1c1XX4S0Iw/s320/toyou.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394459311605593442" border="0" /></a></h3> Here's to you!<br /><br /><br />Her friend, Nick, showing her the picture he took of the "Imagine" memorial in NYC at Strawberry Fields. Telling her the story of the guy who decorates there every day.<br /><h3 style="font-style: italic;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{"type":"msg"}"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBCjhF32vMwPp0dbLbF7M0_e845MlG78LMK1YCJoLJ7EgXoBviwK5Y0djvoOP_BlHPB1XiAE79u164mFfVBSl3NRtS51TMFD4RYlYArQOXG0tEX9kKV3DAr77L8dpaXsQMZcaO5Q/s1600-h/aw.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBCjhF32vMwPp0dbLbF7M0_e845MlG78LMK1YCJoLJ7EgXoBviwK5Y0djvoOP_BlHPB1XiAE79u164mFfVBSl3NRtS51TMFD4RYlYArQOXG0tEX9kKV3DAr77L8dpaXsQMZcaO5Q/s320/aw.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394460352333379826" border="0" /></a></h3> My hippie girl and her buddy "EZ"<br /><br /><h3 style="font-style: italic;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{"type":"msg"}"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC9TnZ-6P8mSkp3S9Z44HqNg3qmBeLqW2xpKwLaAkcJF816lxFNtlLbXxh8F7e9Hr2D9tfZRF0MmP0hrXbTrK576KqoqppkQ9HyvUxnFWh__K0uKx9oAP6Ne9Xa4K8cMSxrZXUvQ/s1600-h/ez.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC9TnZ-6P8mSkp3S9Z44HqNg3qmBeLqW2xpKwLaAkcJF816lxFNtlLbXxh8F7e9Hr2D9tfZRF0MmP0hrXbTrK576KqoqppkQ9HyvUxnFWh__K0uKx9oAP6Ne9Xa4K8cMSxrZXUvQ/s320/ez.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394461033419164610" border="0" /></a></h3><br />Opening the frame that has tickets to "Never Shout Never" in it:<br /><h3 style="font-style: italic;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{"type":"msg"}"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTaro7VBZMl75-8nQE5dLIQ_XlFyew-7PuOceCc9XcmAbuhtmxSdn46XHGNWO31eYh73agFgqYqQjlMDepe3rDQV6bTSWLBUAM_ttoBOIHrGtI4B1-tra9liIB7rZ6IBDvM7eP3g/s1600-h/nsn.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTaro7VBZMl75-8nQE5dLIQ_XlFyew-7PuOceCc9XcmAbuhtmxSdn46XHGNWO31eYh73agFgqYqQjlMDepe3rDQV6bTSWLBUAM_ttoBOIHrGtI4B1-tra9liIB7rZ6IBDvM7eP3g/s320/nsn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394461571646669314" border="0" /></a></h3> Realizing she is going to a Never Shout Never Concert, and in her own words, "meeting my future husband, Christofer Drew"<br /><br /><h3 style="font-style: italic;" class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" ft="{"type":"msg"}"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoEYhn-l-kC6GVDl7xxZlknElj4aQf92CQ5gWdTlVLC4C-X6R1o7Z5bgRIs0aHyRyoYX1D9bjMSdXcvos_OYDxepmpQNrw_blpjasgxlfEqb1SZbnczPlc7pz_-AHz5THX2i96GA/s1600-h/wow.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoEYhn-l-kC6GVDl7xxZlknElj4aQf92CQ5gWdTlVLC4C-X6R1o7Z5bgRIs0aHyRyoYX1D9bjMSdXcvos_OYDxepmpQNrw_blpjasgxlfEqb1SZbnczPlc7pz_-AHz5THX2i96GA/s320/wow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394462185899296162" border="0" /></a></h3> I love you, my sweet girl....<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-51221369134129989542009-09-09T23:10:00.001-04:002009-09-09T23:33:35.289-04:00Upside down and 'round and 'roundWhat a crazy mixed up week it has been. My entire neck, back, and spine feel like someone is shooting poison stress arrows at me on a minute-by-minute basis. I'm surely getting old, which I guess isn't that bad of a thing to be doing.<br /><br />The girls started school on Tuesday. Dakotah has a pretty full course load, but she seemed ready to return and dig into the routine. She has just two years left of high school, and even she seems a bit shocked by that - its going by as fast for her as it seems to be for me. <br /><br />Paige was more than thrilled to start back at school too - she loves it, loves being there, loves being with her friends, loves the routine. Unfortunately, there have been some bumps for her start this year - we haven't figured out busing just yet, and I was more than shocked to arrive Tuesday after school to pick her up to discover that her aide had been cut to just a half day.<br /><br />I was most upset because it was done without speaking to me, or even informing me, and even her teacher and the aide herself were surprised with the news on the very first day of school. <br /><br />She has an IEP in place, and I'm confident that it will be ironed out, as it seems to be mostly a scheduling blip made during the summer by the former principal, but it isn't solved yet, and I've got my hackles up about it - ready to make some noise if it doesn't change by week's end.<br /><br />Right now, she is physically dependent for help with basic needs like walking and toileting, and its not even comprehensible that anyone would think she could go a half day every day without assistance in those areas. Couple that with the fact that she is non-verbal, and needs someone to work with her academically during the day, and well, it is not only unacceptable that they do not carry out the IEP as outlined, it is illegal.<br /><br />I'm trying to be calm and nice about it, but I'm also determined and quite ready to be assertive in any way that will bring the quickest result. The nice way would be to schedule meetings and bring representatives in, etc, but the fast way is probably to make some noise publicly - the whole squeaky wheel theory, you know. <br /><br />So, we'll see how that goes.<br /><br />My job has been really stressful lately too - my boss isn't sure of the direction of his company, and every day seems to bring a different "game plan" to the table. Its difficult trying to follow rules and procedures when they change on a daily basis. So, I don't know where that is going either.<br /><br />And of course, regular "life" stuff happens - the engine on my van went; it was a $2,000 repair. Next week, we are putting in a new oil furnace at a cost of $1,500. Back to school uniforms and expenses have crept up on me - its always something :)<br /><br />Last Friday night, Dakotah was at a friend's house for an end of summer party, with about 20 or 30 of her friends from high school when one of the boys was called away suddenly. They found out later that his dad had died very suddenly of a heart attack at the age of 52.<br /><br />All of Dakotah's friends went to the wake tonight - the first one Dakotah has ever been to. It was emotional for them all, and powerful to know that they were all supporting one another and leaning on each other to be there for their friend Cody. <br /><br />I was proud of her for going, and would have liked to be there when she did, but it was sort of a rite of passage for the kids as they all went in to express their sympathy together.<br /><br />As I was driving to school to pick Paige up today, I was thinking there isn't a single spot in my life that doesn't feel stressful. Of course, that isn't completely true - everyone is healthy, well-fed, has a nice warm bed to sleep in, etc. <br /><br />But, I was feeling a little whiney, to say the least. <br /><br />Then, I arrived at school, went into Paige's classroom, where I was met with the most beautiful little girl-our friend Emma - who ran to me, jumped in my arms, hugged me tight, and said my name over and over again, and then jumped up and down with excitement.<br /><br />With a greeting like that, who wouldn't leave with a smile on her face, no matter how goofy the world is acting right now?Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-44600780273493931802009-08-19T10:41:00.002-04:002009-08-19T10:56:24.252-04:00A Paige funny!Paige has been able to run the dvd player from a very young age. She has favorite movies, and even before she recognized letters and words, she could tell just by looking at them which ones were her favorite.<br /><br />She can fast forward or rewind the dvd with exact precision to the spot she wants to watch, and she has spots on her favorite movies that she likes to watch over and over again. Anyone who visits our house leaves us humming a tune or singing a song that they can't get out of their head for probably hours after, lol.<br /><br />So, the other day, she couldn't find the movie she wanted. She had the case, but no movie. So, she picks up the case, looks for a dvd in the group that has no writing on it. She then took the blank dvd and the case of the movie she wanted to the computer, handed it to Wayne who was sitting there, then opened the door to the dvd writer on the computer, put the dvd in, and waited, hoping that Wayne would find a copy of it and burn it for her.<br /><br />She is so smart that girl of mine!!!Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-83962912199604417602009-08-08T22:22:00.003-04:002009-08-08T22:40:41.395-04:00Happy Dance!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtW9rA5dr4nCwo1nMAFPaxDx6Mhhb11Aox9cG5EfLre54yEKnZfp9SSjMYEvaGjrm8EyZYvDYi5hL1hVbVoV77HyxMyjsFKNDB5HFTazzstodLARBHpoxHFIHus8qkPF1g3_E4hQ/s1600-h/calvin-n-hobbes-733953.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 175px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtW9rA5dr4nCwo1nMAFPaxDx6Mhhb11Aox9cG5EfLre54yEKnZfp9SSjMYEvaGjrm8EyZYvDYi5hL1hVbVoV77HyxMyjsFKNDB5HFTazzstodLARBHpoxHFIHus8qkPF1g3_E4hQ/s320/calvin-n-hobbes-733953.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367787028285858914" border="0" /></a><br />*drum roll*<br /><br />Tonight, coming back from the bathroom, Wayne let go of Paige's hand for a few seconds, and she STOOD ALL BY HERSELF in the middle of the living room. No other support, no walker, no wheelchair, no wall to hold on to, nothing but air, baby!!!<br /><br />She was scared to death, and wasn't too happy until we started screaming and celebrating, and then she realized it was something to be proud of. <br /><br />She couldn't figure out how to sit down without help, and didn't lift her foot to take a step, but she stood and it was glorious!!<br /><br />How lucky I will be to witness first steps again!! Yahoo!!!Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-91552838062031455922009-08-08T22:07:00.003-04:002009-08-08T22:22:09.182-04:00OW!I think I broke my toe. I was going up the stairs in the dark two nights ago and of course, the stuff I left on the stairs to be taken up by Wayne or Dakotah had simply been stepped over on their way to bed.<br /><br />So, as I realized it was still there, I reached to pick it up, and as I did, my foot collided with the big column base at the foot of our stair railing. It hurt like a beeotch but I shook it off - until I laid down in bed, and touching my toe to the sheet sent throbbing, pulsating pain into my foot. Every time I moved, it woke me up.<br /><br />Geez. Now its all bruised and swollen looking and pushing its two brother toes off to the side.<br /><br />You don't realize how much you use a tiny little toe, especially one that's not even on the side of your foot. It stretches with every step. Every time someone comes within 10 feet of me, I scream, "watch my toe!!!"<br /><br />Kirby is like a magnet to it - he's stepped on it about 20 times already.<br /><br />I'm pretty sure I'll recover from this tragedy, lol, as I did the same thing about 15 years ago when I tripped on Wayne's golf bag. Its already feeling a bit better, but it would be nice if I could suck some sympathy out of it for a while. :)<br /><br />Good thing I don't have big feet - I can't even keep these small ones out of the way of anything.<br /><br />I think I need to invent a toe sling. <br /><br />Or maybe a toe cast.<br /><br />And then you could all sign it in teeny tiny letters.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-27891878644399870342009-07-27T01:38:00.005-04:002009-07-27T01:49:42.886-04:00Happy Birthday to my dad<p style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Today would have been my dad's 77th birthday. He died nearly 12 years ago, before he even had a chance to grow old. I think of him often, and miss him dearly. Most milestones - his birthday, holidays, the date of his death - pass by with a peaceful calm feeling, knowing he is still here with me, and that one day I shall meet him again.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I'm not sure why, but today its hard - really hard - to miss him. Its nearly 2 a.m. and I'm sitting quietly in the dark, thinking of him, and praying for the strength to get through the day without the deep, engulfing sobs that I feel wrapping their hands around my throat.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I'm lonely for him. He was such a good father. </span></p><p style="text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;">In The Light</span></p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"> </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">A shadow of joy flickers; it is me.<br />I told you I wouldn't leave.<br />My spirit is with you.<br />My memories, my thoughts<br />are embedded deep in your heart.<br />I still love you.<br />Do not for one moment think<br />that you have been abandoned.<br />I am in the Light. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">In the corner, in the hall,<br />the car, the yard<br />These are the places<br />I stay with you. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">My spirit rises every<br />time you pray for me,<br />but my energy comes closer to you.<br />Love does not diminish,<br />it grows stronger. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">I am the feather<br />that finds you in the yard,<br />The dimmed light<br />that grows brighter in your mind,<br />I place our memories for you to see.<br />We lived in our special way,<br />a way that now has its focus changed. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"><br />I still miss you<br />and long for the<br />many words of prayer<br />and good fortune for my soul.<br />I am in the Light. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">As you struggle to adjust without me,<br />I watch silently.<br />Sometimes I summon up<br />all the strength of my new world<br />to make you notice me.<br />I show you that I am here, and you feel me.<br />Called to you by your grief,<br />I try to impress my love deeper<br />into your consciousness. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">As you should, I call out<br />to the Heavens for help.<br />You should know that<br />My soul is now healthy.<br />Your love sends me new found energy.<br />I am adjusting to this new world.<br />I am with you and I am in the Light. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">Please don't feel bad<br />that you can't see me.<br />I am with you wherever you go.<br />I protect you,<br />just as you protected me<br />so many times.<br />Talk to me and somehow<br />I will find a way to answer you. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">Whatever your question,<br />whatever your fear,<br />I will hear you<br />I will see you with my new eyes.<br />I am learning to help wherever you are,<br />wherever I am needed.<br />This can be done<br />because I am in the Light. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">When you feel despair,<br />reach out to me.<br />I will come.<br />My love for you truly does<br />transcend from Heaven to Earth. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">Finish your life with the enthusiasm<br />and zest that you had when we were<br />together in the physical sense.<br />You owe this to me, but more importantly,<br />you owe it to yourself. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">Live life for both of us. </p><p style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">I am with you because I love you<br />and I am in the Light. </p><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;">---Author Unknown---</div>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-25072288517434388022009-07-26T19:02:00.002-04:002009-07-26T19:11:15.914-04:00Dream a little dream of me...I have about 7 or 8 dreams that I have had for close to 20 years. These dreams are always the same, all the same details, people involved, etc. They come without rhyme or reason, and are so familiar to me that I am almost in an awake state when I am dreaming them.<br /><br />Its funny, but I almost forget the dreams until I have them again, and then I wake up thinking, "there is that darn dream again." Last night's dream was the one about my sister finding out she is pregnant. In the dream, I see her go through all the stages of pregnancy, with her giving birth to a little boy. Then the dream fast forwards, and I see the little boy about two years old.<br /><br />In the dream, I am near the boy, but I can't touch him. And I never learn his name. That bothers me, both in the dream, and when I wake up. And I ache for this little boy, totally jealous of her getting pregnant by "accident."<br /><br />There is so much strange in this dream - first, Kathy's boys are 27 and 31, and she is, well, past child-bearing age, lol. I'm very close to her and her boys, and don't understand why I dream that I can't get near this child. <br /><br />And, in my waking hours, I am not, not, NOT desiring to be pregnant, lol.<br /><br />This dream, and the few others that I keep having bother me for days after I have them...I feel vulnerable, haunted by them. <br /><br />Does anyone else remember their dreams so vividly?Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-75087141133511174722009-06-28T15:26:00.005-04:002009-06-28T15:40:51.974-04:00Before the pool was even full...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibopitxV8F8cLNdH8mNqY6rHS5xjFhtHWvZ1J75I8cU718tzPJj59QjUHYSjudrQl1696A0TUx-7gFwFzsLK8yBAtMWcezyRGDaNLyg5LJPCuvIGpuY-NoBciRPiFCtF4Vu7sC9Q/s1600-h/KIRBY1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibopitxV8F8cLNdH8mNqY6rHS5xjFhtHWvZ1J75I8cU718tzPJj59QjUHYSjudrQl1696A0TUx-7gFwFzsLK8yBAtMWcezyRGDaNLyg5LJPCuvIGpuY-NoBciRPiFCtF4Vu7sC9Q/s320/KIRBY1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352463818961421714" border="0" /></a><br /><br />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!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4sjG1EDwsvvNlv_xhZDVUUIKB5uz6E__0iWV2utjYcVmpJ9GyliJivDh38nXH8tOEjuq0FbiWyoPNn7Lk-vMLkImsKcGSfqNrdGMuOiYqYcczP_S1v0wozVDlJw5yMv-Zz5-5ow/s1600-h/KIRBY2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4sjG1EDwsvvNlv_xhZDVUUIKB5uz6E__0iWV2utjYcVmpJ9GyliJivDh38nXH8tOEjuq0FbiWyoPNn7Lk-vMLkImsKcGSfqNrdGMuOiYqYcczP_S1v0wozVDlJw5yMv-Zz5-5ow/s320/KIRBY2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352464607048420162" border="0" /></a>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-6316747878648635342009-06-10T15:42:00.003-04:002009-06-10T16:18:01.846-04:00Advice to myself...I stole this idea from <a href="http://davehingsburger.blogspot.com/2009/06/youve-got-mail.html">Dave. </a>He read an article in a magazine where celebrities wrote a letter from their "adult me" to their "teenage me."<br /><br />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.<br /><br />So, here is my letter to 15-year old me, on my birthday!<br /><br />Dear Betsy,<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <span style="font-style: italic;">real</span> 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...<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. ;)<br /><br />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.<br /><br />And I'm pretty sure that you'll re-discover clogs in the form of Birkinstocks at some point in your life.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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...<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Its gonna be a great life - see ya in 30 years.<br /><br />BetsyBetsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-90452580018074168922009-06-04T15:32:00.003-04:002009-06-04T15:42:08.357-04:00I'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.<br /><br />Its that crazy, fun time of the year where its busy and fun, but almost too busy to be any fun, lol.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Maybe, I'm just not sure I'm all that grown up yet. :)<br /><br />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.<br /><br />We look forward to new phases in her life with great anticipation, and a tiny bit of bittersweet "seize the moment" flavour.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br /><br />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!Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-9802737056016980962009-05-06T19:14:00.004-04:002009-05-06T19:30:55.832-04:00What a lovely night<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLsTUbBqtTD0FU-GwZCJIhoQDe-c1Rzl-lf97HhNhMzzJoGtiASMeFazL9PCxqqLAcOl4OXmIGnBVborTyrC9TPMXiuJc_wPSXsxn1aPlwL53qtu74kX-0VGVuDJlYzcQr8Xo7VA/s1600-h/em.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 380px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLsTUbBqtTD0FU-GwZCJIhoQDe-c1Rzl-lf97HhNhMzzJoGtiASMeFazL9PCxqqLAcOl4OXmIGnBVborTyrC9TPMXiuJc_wPSXsxn1aPlwL53qtu74kX-0VGVuDJlYzcQr8Xo7VA/s320/em.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332853591015235538" border="0" /></a><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <span style="font-style: italic;">be</span> us, as we snuggled and hugged through the service.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />As I whispered to her over and over again at the end of the ceremony "Thank God for you, Em, thank God for you."<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqkOslZSGy3fTxZ7Uxdy_1r4RpKcnuTb9oKWXkMX1ifcpk6trMdiZzUNQcefLPUIbf9UvQdDD0ZrOyeiTvfF4viFpfgEZb_a5GzNyWoOxkIAr9gompx9phrct7mnZW76HMBYSzQ/s1600-h/DSCF4598.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVqkOslZSGy3fTxZ7Uxdy_1r4RpKcnuTb9oKWXkMX1ifcpk6trMdiZzUNQcefLPUIbf9UvQdDD0ZrOyeiTvfF4viFpfgEZb_a5GzNyWoOxkIAr9gompx9phrct7mnZW76HMBYSzQ/s320/DSCF4598.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332856933312426082" border="0" /></a>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-2771337024131723132009-04-23T00:10:00.003-04:002009-04-23T00:29:21.588-04:00Baby Michael<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgHwmjsEJK60nauqaq0xqu9aFB_AMbVUrI_EPKqbIhRjK56B9ouP4itW3kaziVxfcOMC3g1f8fe3xeGGI5a11oO4mSZIlZHUBSbsrDcRJiFewwd8XBxMLas_pMi3q-GScoK9x8Zg/s1600-h/hope.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgHwmjsEJK60nauqaq0xqu9aFB_AMbVUrI_EPKqbIhRjK56B9ouP4itW3kaziVxfcOMC3g1f8fe3xeGGI5a11oO4mSZIlZHUBSbsrDcRJiFewwd8XBxMLas_pMi3q-GScoK9x8Zg/s320/hope.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327735077962530450" border="0" /></a>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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Within a minute, they were again whisked away into an office.<br /><br />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."<br /><br />But, of course, I don't know much of anything, other than they had just received devastating news of some sort. <br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Most of all, we prayed for baby Michael tonight...a sweet little boy who's story or name we will never really know. <br /><br />But, I'm sure when Paige and I said our prayers, Our Good Lord knew exactly who we meant.Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-72325441647800786822009-04-19T17:25:00.003-04:002009-04-19T17:28:29.949-04:00Why do I do the things I do?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAYsOed55iPvEUNyrNmO22sTL7cQHKF1fSgYyb4GXXch6tUEkwE7EbFQ0lUKXvK42CbNSwSIGrAKOUYz11sPq2rS7fyNhZkOumNbgAtkMuAAY2Gu3kcqSQZYVtqv5lm8e7XWiTLg/s1600-h/Sick.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAYsOed55iPvEUNyrNmO22sTL7cQHKF1fSgYyb4GXXch6tUEkwE7EbFQ0lUKXvK42CbNSwSIGrAKOUYz11sPq2rS7fyNhZkOumNbgAtkMuAAY2Gu3kcqSQZYVtqv5lm8e7XWiTLg/s320/Sick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326516827174171074" border="0" /></a>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*)<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-51632284328209079602009-04-15T15:49:00.005-04:002009-04-15T15:58:25.298-04:00More Easter fun...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmw8FrBDnemC4nfAJSEEFy0gzUWdoqzBvvRYPcvFQZj6MmOv-wleHAtK63QE7gNlfjjscSMcm61SJQa1i0_kkinUHf9LPxZXTSL6RKutbkdmVgAFaZtONOwwlakq5RVEdJgcVp5w/s1600-h/DSC00877.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmw8FrBDnemC4nfAJSEEFy0gzUWdoqzBvvRYPcvFQZj6MmOv-wleHAtK63QE7gNlfjjscSMcm61SJQa1i0_kkinUHf9LPxZXTSL6RKutbkdmVgAFaZtONOwwlakq5RVEdJgcVp5w/s200/DSC00877.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325008918479667826" border="0" /></a><br />Here is my latest attempt at home-made Easter eggs - truffle-like and filled with chocolate, vanilla, nuts or coconut inspired by <a href="http://bakerella.blogspot.com/">Bakerella</a> - yummy, but a little goes a long way - we still have too many left!<br /><br />These are still in the rough stages, still drying, so there's lots of drippy's on the edges.<br /><br />Thanks to Dakotah and my friend <a href="http://recipeadjustment.blogspot.com/">Julie</a> for their groovy decorating skills!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrN72CuzXxocmvkQnUwUR8iJPFZT3vp_qOOu2rUOR2HPkL3FIi_wBi8rVcQPKP3jzpHfq23EQVCyPBAONOToRGjuS_15MN1tBKEVBfchN42xWn0xgmKxUuozEOu7Cw3FqhWcLQcA/s1600-h/DSC00885.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrN72CuzXxocmvkQnUwUR8iJPFZT3vp_qOOu2rUOR2HPkL3FIi_wBi8rVcQPKP3jzpHfq23EQVCyPBAONOToRGjuS_15MN1tBKEVBfchN42xWn0xgmKxUuozEOu7Cw3FqhWcLQcA/s200/DSC00885.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325009860638057714" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKr71HZWl_GL6TzFeOzPFMFyV8qb07zlaKauai_rfE4pqkK8uek1fPXhE3bPof2GV9VFU3mriXfmSycqMscS83kOq5gnGGVADzqHjBKb9m01Bgs1oqcAg-czoWI1LVZ23XrozV3Q/s1600-h/DSC00876.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKr71HZWl_GL6TzFeOzPFMFyV8qb07zlaKauai_rfE4pqkK8uek1fPXhE3bPof2GV9VFU3mriXfmSycqMscS83kOq5gnGGVADzqHjBKb9m01Bgs1oqcAg-czoWI1LVZ23XrozV3Q/s200/DSC00876.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325009174636258386" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_6jY0K1cApDcTktPUOKCEp5zZkoKKZv7OMrthoLxbKROBW0rF_ZTKh5r7_z-udziV9RFfcM0SV4AidIP_V1OHN2EElQxlM4wqeKnGxyNdJsUIaq6L-R3RmYd25wdYkKQ3MKtDw/s1600-h/DSC00880.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_6jY0K1cApDcTktPUOKCEp5zZkoKKZv7OMrthoLxbKROBW0rF_ZTKh5r7_z-udziV9RFfcM0SV4AidIP_V1OHN2EElQxlM4wqeKnGxyNdJsUIaq6L-R3RmYd25wdYkKQ3MKtDw/s200/DSC00880.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325009451241135122" border="0" /></a>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-17933565175781982972009-04-14T20:08:00.003-04:002009-04-14T20:12:47.710-04:00Easter EveningDakotah's favorite thing to do...take pictures! Notice the little line of chocolate on Paige's bottom lip. It was Dakotah's way of convincing her to "model" for her. By the grin on Paige's face, it looks like she thought she was the one doing all the convincing!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaPwSEMHOPIkOdkKLzy7Y0ETRvPpvOS66XQUDzX3itjqeG1FgDjC_5HFnxsuDYxG3GwvmP5yOXAg3VO_TLKIzOgy29pD7HiD5njIMAjn9duR8Fm3_64HCkSzkzb3fcKjxM2lNNOg/s1600-h/DSC00912.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 236px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaPwSEMHOPIkOdkKLzy7Y0ETRvPpvOS66XQUDzX3itjqeG1FgDjC_5HFnxsuDYxG3GwvmP5yOXAg3VO_TLKIzOgy29pD7HiD5njIMAjn9duR8Fm3_64HCkSzkzb3fcKjxM2lNNOg/s320/DSC00912.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324703939325285602" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8DvVKfQPN8H-G6n4D4NhQXgcO3wqULdbUYrEkp3cxSaIEFt30dlEqSMPJPVSPN40AceTb7W2i6NZBdaovE3ra6R1o8fE2NyJAILa6fpij1D-R9-sFJ2taMNXgbOuHiPUKn8yLdg/s1600-h/DSC00911.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8DvVKfQPN8H-G6n4D4NhQXgcO3wqULdbUYrEkp3cxSaIEFt30dlEqSMPJPVSPN40AceTb7W2i6NZBdaovE3ra6R1o8fE2NyJAILa6fpij1D-R9-sFJ2taMNXgbOuHiPUKn8yLdg/s320/DSC00911.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324704082586474194" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRepqkzT75nCPkzyNM1_XWzdq4aCwho9dmJ_ummHp3C8q0P2pSqsywwMVhQSkxStl3Nzn3k50CRkDT-RM4W3blf0Ic35UbKQdAzFA9xMvhrFBzbCZ-kwovZb4tV0QgnnpBK0axg/s1600-h/DSC00919.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRepqkzT75nCPkzyNM1_XWzdq4aCwho9dmJ_ummHp3C8q0P2pSqsywwMVhQSkxStl3Nzn3k50CRkDT-RM4W3blf0Ic35UbKQdAzFA9xMvhrFBzbCZ-kwovZb4tV0QgnnpBK0axg/s320/DSC00919.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324704263952996466" border="0" /></a>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24008273.post-74449642184508518492009-04-14T11:42:00.003-04:002009-04-14T11:49:30.857-04:00Be Inspired, Be Humbled...<div style="text-align: center;">If your face needs to smile so wide it makes your cheeks hurt,<br />If your heart needs to swell so much it feels like it will burst,<br />If your soul needs a hug so warm and tight you never want to let go,<br />If you want a feel good moment that will carry you through the day,<br /><br />Then take just seven minutes to watch this video - you'll be so glad you did!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY">Susan Boyle</a><br /><br />What beauty we might miss...<br /></div>Betsyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08993936253314777950noreply@blogger.com4