#write31days: The Art of Not Asking Questions

My grandmother is sick. She was sick for years before I found out; years before she told anyone.

When I first heard this, I went through different stages of grief. She is, after all, the only grandmother I've ever known. My paternal grandmother died before I was born.

My maternal grandmother is classy and reserved; easy to laugh and has a quick wit. She likes playing cards and once asked me if the margaritas I was helping make on a family vacation were "for the kids" - I did not add enough alcohol, apparently.

I never really understood, until recently, why she did not tell anyone. Even now, when I call her and ask how she is doing, she always answers, "Just fine, thanks!"

My dear grandmother, I understand now.

I understand that you're not fine - but I'm not the person you want to say that to.

I understand that you're not in the mood to be constantly discussing the state of your health.

I understand. I love you.

**

A hard part about having a child with special needs is that too many questions revolve around her therapy and her progress.

It is, honestly, draining.

To the outside person, it is a simple question. What is she doing? How is she improving? 

Every day, it's different. Every day, I try to balance typical expectations for a three year old while recognizing that she faces different challenges. She cannot use her right hand. I have to help her get dressed on her right side; I have to remind her to use her hand and arm too; we practice opening and closing her hand. We practice her standing on her feet evenly.

She has many therapists whom I am in constant communication with; she sees 5 therapists/week + 2 consults per month. I keep up with various doctor appointments. I have to be consistent about her - stretching and massage, putting on her braces, pushing her to try, try again.

It can break a mother's heart. You just want to see your baby not struggle. But she does, and that is okay too. She is a vibrant, loving, talented three year old. When I am having a hard day, I'll tell her. She says, "I hug you mommy. I kiss you."

**

In this family, we struggle. We forgive. We try, we laugh, and we dance.

I know there is a natural curiosity about cerebral palsy, different therapies, and even how postpartum depression manifests itself... but we humans are all processing. I am still processing my daughter's diagnosis. I am still processing my own diagnosis. Some days I think I am overreacting; other days, I want my bed to swallow me.

I'm not writing this to shut people out - this is a free country. People may ask questions. I am saying that people do not have a right to information. There is no Freedom of Information Act for your life; to the contrary, plead HIPPA, or the 5th Amendment. Too often, we don't want to offend people by saying, "No thanks. Not in the mood to discuss this with you." I am guilty of this. I'd prefer people lead with, "When you're in the mood to discuss, I'd like to hear about ___."

But Julie! You are writing this on your blog, a public forum! Isn't that an invitation for further discussion?

Yes, I am. That is my prerogative. The same way I talk about my postpartum depression. I even found myself mentioning it to people at a party last week, because I am a fun person.

In the same vein, Grace is my daughter. I'm happy to discuss her favorite colors, her favorite dress-up options, the funny things she says, et cetera. I want people to know Grace for who she is, and not her diagnosis. She's not an inspiration. She's a warrior princess, just like her sister Laura.

**

So, people of the world: let me bring it up.

Or begin by saying, "I'd love to hear at some point"... yes, I will register your request. And thank you for giving me the option to say "no" and "not now"! It shows thoughtfulness, as it's personal for me. I have more hard days now, or maybe they just feel harder. More often than not, questions feel harder too.

I cannot apologize for struggling. I am not a robot. I am a human, living this glorious experience.

via GIPHY

As I've mentioned before, the best question to ask is the non-question. The best messages I receive are the ones of neutral support. I love talking to family and showing them the kids via FaceTime. I like catching up with friends (usually by text, if we're honest) and hearing about daily life. I like hearing about hobbies, adventures, trips and ideas. I don't like dwelling on things I can't change.

**

We live in uncertain times, though the days are patterned. I find myself pausing more and meditating on love. There are four types of love. There are five types of love languages. My husband is not verbose like me; I wrote him hundreds of letters, and talk to him about everything. He shows me love - he shows me that I am whole, when I feel broken. He shows me potential when I feel distress. Will is the calm in my storm. He and I have accepted that we will never know why Grace had a stroke, and we both agree that nothing changes the way we will always do our best for her, as we will do for all our darling children.

I find comfort in love, messy as it is; I've been re-reading lines from Mary Oliver's poem "Rhapsody":

"If you are in the garden, I will dress myself in leaves.
If you are in the sea I will slide into that
smooth blue nest, I will talk fish, I will adore salt.
But if you are sad, I will not dress myself in desolation.
I will present myself with all the laughters I can muster.
And if you are angry I will come, calm and steady,
with some small and easy story.

Promises, promises, promises! The tongue jabbers, the heart
strives, falls, strives again. The world is perfect.
Love, however, is an opera, a history, a long walk,
that includes falling and rising, falling and rising, while
the heart stays as sweet as a peach, as radiant and
grateful as the deep-leaved hills."

Let us ask about what concerns each of us - our life in the spirit, our joys, our doings, and our thoughts. We are more than our sorrow.

**

My "rules" for this series are short (especially before commenting): this topic is personal and I am currently living in it. This is not an abstract for a dissertation. I do not have 20/20 hindsight yet. I don't need any medical advice, as I keep in close communication with my own PA + Dr., as well as being married to one. My husband and I practice many different types of coping mechanisms as well, which I will write about too. My situation is 100 percent unique and I am writing only about myself. These posts are directed at no one, and still, I am opening myself up to share my experiences. If I can help one person, it will be worth it. Please respect this adult conversation at face value.

**

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#write31days: PostPartum Depression - How Did You Know? // Introduction and Rules of Engagement

Last October, I attempted #write31days but without a serious mindset... quantity really- I wanted to write more. And I did! It was great. Today, I am starting this challenge over with a more guided topic. Postpartum depression.

I discussed ideas with a few friends, and this topic came up multiple times. How do you handle PPD as a Catholic women? How do you handle it with residency? How do you handle it with multiple children? What does it feel like? What should others know about PPD? The questions went on and on...

My "rules" for this series are short: this topic is personal and I am currently living in it. This is not an abstract for a dissertation. I do not have 20/20 hindsight yet. I don't need any medical advice, as I keep in close communication with my own PA + Dr., as well as being married to one. My husband and I practice many different types of coping mechanisms as well, which I will write about too. My situation is 100 percent unique and I am writing only about myself. These posts are directed at no one, and still, I am opening myself up to share my experiences. If I can help one person, it will be worth it. Please respect this adult conversation at face value.

**

How do you know you are depressed (PPD) and it's not just the baby blues?

This is the number one question many women ask. I am on baby number three in three years. Shockingly to many, this is not the cause of my depression. My depression has to do (mainly) with external factors in my life which I do not have [much] control over. I mention this because I have bonded with my third child wonderfully, just like I did with my other two.

I mention this because many women dismiss their feelings because they do not fall into the normal realm of what depression looks like. If you are taking anything your baby does personally, that should be a warning sign. A baby is for cuddling and feeding. A baby wants love and affection, and cries because something is wrong - or nothing is wrong! All three of my children spent the first month or two of their lives crying "just because"... baby wearing, baby swinging, and being okay with crying.

My main symptoms are anger and irritability. Everything bugs me - but what sends me over the edge is the perpetual whining of my three year old. Grace repeats herself constantly, and this is normal! There is nothing wrong with this! But for me, it was nails on a chalkboard. Combine this with anxiety if the house descends into madness (thanks, Laura); if I've forgotten something I am supposed to do; if I watch time tock by, paralyzed by what I should do...

This is not a normal response to stress. This is, at the very least, a reason to talk to a medical professional. If you have a feeling something is off, your intuition is probably right. Don't ignore it.

I knew something was wrong when Grace began whining and I just had to leave the room; I wanted to punch the wall repeatedly. I called the phone nurse at my OB's office, and as I told her my symptoms, I started sobbing.

I am currently taking medicine, which I will address in another post. Medicine combined with exercise and other coping mechanisms for healthy living is key - we cannot expect medicine alone to "fix" my feelings, anymore than we should think "natural living" is enough for women to cope.

With my first two children, I would feel sad and overwhelmed and stressed from time to time... with Stephen, there were times when I wanted to leave the house. I wanted to punch the wall; I wanted to cry and yell; I wanted to curl up in a ball and ignore everyone. These are not normal response to stress. My medicine is only 20 mg, but it is enough. When I hear whining, I can respond calmly or ignore it. I can find order in the chaos and I can laugh. I am 110 percent a better mother taking medicine, and I feel much more like myself.

And this is really the most telling part of depression - I didn't feel like myself. I didn't know this version of Julie, and I didn't like it. I love my family and I wanted to enjoy these young days. This is why I sought help and now, this is why I am writing about postpartum depression and anxiety. The only thing to fear is *not* accepting help. Don't try to rationalize your feelings or dismiss them. If you need help, ask for it. This is scary, and that is okay.

Before Grace's eye surgery; when I had first started medication

**
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Advent Lessons From Watching My Daughters

Pictures from last Sunday, because the girls had to wear their Sunday hats.

Grace is sporting a yellow knit, given to her (and one for L too) from a tech who loves when the girls come visit the ED. Silver star leggings and a horse-themed top confirm her wild spirit.

Laura, as you may recognize, if wearing her sister's last season Hanna Andersson sweater dress and matching hat. She was less enthused about the hat. 

Since we've been back in PA, it's been a case of WE CAN DO IT. I haven't been feeling well, and by the end of the month, I started dealing with some tough customers who do not like the work load of AP US History. This is a tough balance, because a student needs to have good time management skills with his/her studies, or it does become a lot harder. I've worked with my boss on adjusting the class, and, alas, not all are satisfied. Unfortunately, this is not going to change the class. There are still requirements, and I'm sure this will be a life lesson for all. Maybe, one day, they'll appreciate these lessons - and me. Ha.  

The girls and I spend a lot of time together, and they teach me every day. Here's what I pick up from the littles this Advent Season:

1. Nothing without quality time

The past two nights, the girls have stayed up past their bed time so they can spend time with their Dad. It does not affect their sleep schedule too much, fortunately, and Will is always extra happy to see them. (It's a bummer to leave in the morning and not see your kids before they go to bed! Also why we stop by the hospital often.)

When I am not in class, I try to do work around them as well as sit and play. Laura is learning how to use a sippy cup and drink from a straw (we skip bottles around here) and it's really fun teaching her - she learns from watching Grace as well!

I do not think children need a stay at home parent - I do think that children need tuned-in parents. I try to keep the television off (unless we're all in moods, then praise the LORD for Daniel Tiger & co.) and the music on, my phone out of reach and my to-do list handy. I usually have my computer nearby so I can keep up with grading in between snacks, walks, tower building, loads of laundry and the forever list. Since I work from home, I need to stay realistic about what I can and cannot do, e.g. I cannot be on my computer for longer than 10-15 minutes or else a little hand will sneak onto my screen and pull it down. Ask me how I know. (Standing at the mantle helps!)

Jesus asks us for this too - to see Christmas as less of an obligation and more of a celebration of love. That we want to be at mass because we love God, want to spend time with him, and want to join in the feast of celebrating his birth.

2. Do what needs to get done.

To-do lists (I also call them my forever lists) really do help me; time management, as in school, is essential to home life. With our plethora of therapies and appointments, I never have a "best" time for anything. And still, lots has to get done. I recently realized that I can't work out at home, and with our double stroller out of commission, the time has come to join the Y. Or else perish into a non-exercising maniac.

I've started listening to the rosary on YouTube and reading Christmas stories to the girls; it is my job to teach them the faith - no one else can replace my influence in this area.

3. No really; sometimes, you just have to buckle down.

Do I like giving my girls baths? No. Do I like brushing their teeth? No. Why? Because there are always tears. (Yes, even with tear-less shampoo. It's the water shock, I suppose.) What about therapy? Have to do it. Stretching? The same.

The pile of boxes I need to work through downstairs... okay. I get my own message. The girls know (though they do not always comply) that we clean up our toys before bed. Period. Wah.

And FINE, they don't really have a clue who Santa Claus is (they were pretty ambivalent about the St. Nick stories I read them, though they do like their new slippers), but Grace especially loves the lighting of the Advent candles each night and tries to sing along. A definite win in my book.

4. Bumps and bruises and other realities of growing up.

Sometimes, it feels like some of my students do not want to feel the sting of adequacy. Fine, they did an adequate job, but not a good or even great one, and that is reflected in their grade. And maybe my teacher's note was not sensitive or detailed enough; it's a bumpy ride being a teacher too. I attended a prestigious high school where the teachers were very helpful and very hard on us. They expected a lot, and when I delivered - it felt great. When I did not, I could usually pinpoint what went wrong. That's part of the learning curve, and I work with students to reduce the bumps...

But as Grace and Laura learn every day, no matter how many gates and protections their parents put up around the house, they still fall. So, we focus on the reaction after the fall. "Uh oh! Are you okay? What a big fall!" I usually get a stunned look and then a smile; they roll it off and move on. A really hard fall (hardwood, ouch) deserves a snuggle and lots of kisses, but it usually doesn't stop them from trying again. How many of us can get up from a fall like that?

The refugee crisis is especially close to my heart during this Advent season. Not because people are saying Mary and Joseph were also homeless refugees (uh, sort of - they were traveling for the census before Jesus' birth; I would say they became refugees after Jesus was born and went into hiding!), but because THEY ARE PEOPLE. They are fellow humans fleeing for their lives. Did you know before the Civil War many Northerners did not want to help the abolitionists because they feared they would lose their jobs? Or the fear during WWII that put the Japanese in internment camps and kept many Jews from re-locating? We all see the terrorist threat going on overseas. We need to start embracing the angel Gabriel's entreatment to "Fear not!" and look for positive strategies to help, not hinder. I cannot imagine leaving our home right now for fear any of us could be killed. No walls can keep out hate.

5. Keep having fun!

Grace is in time-out a few times a day for various injustices, like pushing Laura in the face if she's too close. We go to the stairs, where she gets a stern talking to and time-out, which is immediately forgotten as soon as Laura crawls over and Grace says, "Hi Rawr-ra!" After the steps, they go back to playing before another rough attempt to back Laura away from the communal toys.

Life can be hard and unfair and really, really tough - so it's important to have fun too. When Will and I were going through a really tough time earlier this year, we made a point to play tennis as often as we could. We made it a priority to do something fun, something active and something together.

And after I've put Grace in time out and they're playing together, there is no better sound than the two of them laughing together. It's fun - it's joy - it's Christ in my girls.

Sarah Bessey wrote a beautiful Advent reflection on joy (for tomorrow), which I'll excerpt here:

Joy isn’t emotionally or spiritually or intellectually dishonest. Christian joy doesn’t mean that we are sticking our heads in the sand and saying, “it’s fine, we’re fine, everything’s fine” while running past the gutter of broken dreams, eyes averted. 

Joy isn’t denial of grief or pretending happiness. 

Now, now I know this: joy is the affirmation of the truest thing in this life. 

Joy is born, not from pretending everything is fine, but from holding both hope and truth together. The Christian can stand in that liminal space, the place of grief, even there with joy. Why? Because joy is the affirmation of the thing that is truer than any trouble, any affliction: the affirmation that Love wins. Jesus is as good as we hope, it’s all worth it, and all will be redeemed.

**

Now Christmas is coming, so we wait for the Christ child, and we wait for my next appointment and the anatomy scan of our own little bebe. We wait for next Saturday, when Will gets to go home for the first time in two years. We wait, and we love.

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What's Your Normal?

A few nights ago, I sat on the couch, watching Grace and Laura play with the same Melissa and Doug fruit puzzle - which means Grace is saying "No no no no no!" and Laura is grabbing at every piece she can. Will's ER shift goes till 2 a.m., so I was playing zone defense. When the fighting starts (mainly Grace getting territorial), it was time to break out the blocks. I build towers for Laura to knock over, and Grace built her own too.

After I finally got them to bed, I collapsed on the couch to eat second dinner and watch the latest episode of Bones before beginning the Great Cleaning Escapade of Late Night. Which means, no vacuuming till morning, but at least the dishwasher was loaded and unloaded and all the extra food cleaned up or thrown away. I tried to work on my philosophy (I have my last paper due on Saturday), but since I turned in a post two days ago, I let myself have a mental break. (Which is now over!)

Morning happens when I wake up before my alarm clock, check on the girls through the video monitor (still sleeping, high five ladies!), and fall back to sleep until my alarm actually goes off, which corresponds perfectly to Laura popping her head up and deciding the day begins NOW. Grace is sleeping in, which is uncharacteristic, but she's going through a nice growth spurt - two more inches and two more pounds in the past few months.

Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, so we prefer to have a more luxurious meal - even if time is shorter. We like milk, oatmeal, yogurt, apple slices [Cortland is a new favorite!], and/ or english muffins. Wegmans (our favorite grocery store) has the most delicious seasonal bread - cranberry orange. We're enjoying this treat as toast lately. I've thought about introducing Grace to hot chocolate as it's getting so cold out (she loves sipping on our coffee), but then... all that sugar. We hardly let her drink juice, so I think hot chocolate should be preserved as a special day treat. Any thoughts on that? Or experiences?

The nice part of this week is that I am off school - teaching, that is. We celebrated Thanksgiving on Tuesday because Will was off (otherwise, night shift till the weekend). We will go over to his married attendings's house for a department Thanksgiving once he wakes up too, which will be nice change of scenery and to see more colleagues of his than I usually do.

I'm working at capacity right now, especially at distracting little hands from my laptop. (Okay, climb into my lap and we'll read a book.) Paper due, final exams next week, grading due (for my own students), and we're going to a wedding this weekend, so packing for two small children and all their potential needs ain't no thang. Thank goodness for all the leftover feast right?!

Last week, I got an e-mail inviting me to apply for a job that - a few years ago - I would have taken in a heartbeat. What do we call those jobs? Former dreams? Without sounding too depressing, of course, because I'm creating new dreams. But: managing editor, traveling, speaking, testifying and lots of writing.

Like a tall glass of water on a hot day, I drank that e-mail and then told Will about how delicious the job sounded. He asked if I wanted to apply and I told him honestly: no. I cannot imagine traveling so much with the girls and Will's schedule. Besides, journalism is not my passion any more. The farther away I get from it, I wonder if it ever was... the experience was essential, and I have no regrets pursuing it. But I like having the opportunity to shut the door. I can say, I did it well! And be done.

I'm in the midst of changing my dreams, and changing my reality. It's good, it's hard, and it's about being me vs. becoming me. I'm writing less, and I'm loving more. My normal is class prep, class time, Grace's therapies (she has another speech therapist now! Yay! The wait is over!), taking care of our home, running errands, family time, study time, couple time and me time. It's getting colder out, so I've cut out exercise time... but I have workout DVDs, so the excuses are limited. Besides, this is the time to stay healthy, right?

With Will's job, I hear a lot of stories, and some of them are really tragic. They make me think, Is it worth the stress of extra $$ to finish an article? Sometimes, yes, sure. But we've cut out most extras, so that saves a bundle of money this year to pay for our second student loan kicking in, more baby food, and soon, more diapers.

What?! Another Baldwin baby? Are Will and Julie crazy?! I'll admit, two of Grace's therapists burst out laughing when they heard. Not in a malicious way - more in a, Oh, you two!! I'm the first to admit, it's not everyone's style. Residency, by itself, is a stressful time - and Will starts job searching next spring. I'm still teaching part-time, Grace will still be in therapy, and Laura is still moving faster than you. Life is uncertain - another little person to take care of is no chump change. 

We're really excited. God has such a special plan for this baby, and honestly? We're already rolling in the baby life. I'm the first to admit that we're pretty isolated here - no family, closest friends are in NYC, the occasional play group, and plenty of trips to the hospital to take dinner to Dad and say hi to the department. The support we've already received, and will continue to receive, makes me feel even better about bringing this baby into a scary, uncertain world we live in today. This baby is going to know love, be loved, and share in love. 

As Advent approaches, and we wait for the Christ to enter into our world, we will know the beauty of babies. We will know new beginnings and we will "be not afraid" of what is to come. I am grateful for my friends, far away and online, and my blog readers. I am grateful for my extended family, my immediate family, and in-laws (+siblings) who truly do feel like family. I am grateful for our little family: my hilarious husband, my spunky Grace, my sweet Laura, and my growing bebe. I am grateful that God is with us on this journey of crooked paths. 

I hope you are grateful for your normal (whatever it is!), and I wish you all a very, very happy Thanksgiving! 

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Remembering Donna, My Friend

Today, I missed a funeral service because I do not live in (or near) my hometown. A friend has died this week. A good friend, Donna, who always made me feel loved and like family.

My friend had one last beautiful day: Easter 2015. I sent her flowers, not knowing she would pass before their arrival.

I cried for her passing, and rejoice in her life. I am a better person for knowing her.

Donna was the grandmother of the kids I nannied a few years ago. My nanny job was my most favorite post-college job (rivaled by this current one, perhaps) and that is because I fell in love with the family I worked for - they became good friends of mine. The son and I were especially close because he did not attend school like his sister. We would spend most of the 10 hour work day together, sans a few hours of nap time, and we genuinely enjoyed each other's company.

Donna was one of my favorite parts of the job - seeing her and talking to her was delightful. She was very active in her grandchildren's lives, and I loved watching their interactions. Kindness was her voice.

She took the time to get to know me and keep up with my life. When I was engaged, she gave Will and I a wedding present which was extremely personal and generous - and that was her essence. She sincerely cared for people, and because she cared for them, she invested in them. I saw this many times in her interactions with others.

A few months after I got married, the family went on a month-long trip. I spent the month living at Donna's house, taking full care of my young charge. I was also - as some of you remember - in my first trimester with Grace. I was pretty miserable, nausea-wise. Donna made sure the house was always stocked with my four main food groups: Cream of Wheat, Progresso vegetable soup, saltines and Graeter's raspberry sorbet. She insisted I sleep in till 8 a.m. (I was usually at work by 7:30!), gave me 40 hours off on the weekend to go home to Will, and was an extremely gracious hostess. It might seem awkward to live at your employer's mother's house for a month, but it wasn't. That is a very rare quality - to put people at ease, to welcome them, and to accept them. Donna had that quality, and more.

Donna, I will never forget the conversations we had. I appreciate the way you interacted with everyone around you with respect, and I admired your generosity of spirit, a real giving of self. You taught me so much about the beauty of the human spirit, and I love you.

Thank you for loving me too.

Internet Ire and Righteous Results

The readings for February 6, 2015:

First reading: Hebrews 13:1-8
Responsorial Psalm: PS 27:1, 3, 5, 8B-9ABC
Alleluia: Luke 8:15
Gospel: Mark 6:14-29

Pope Francis “hanging out” via Google with kids with disabilities from around the world

There is a lot of hostility being generated in the online worlds. I teach my history students that this is the result of fear. Fear prompts a tongue lashing, or a dismissing of people and ideas. Fear prompts distrust, disloyalty, and a vengeful spirit. There is no peace where there is fear, and the growth of hate.

The LORD is my light and my salvation;
whom should I fear?
The LORD is my life’s refuge;
of whom should I be afraid? 

Who do we hate? We hate the ones who disagree with us, who challenge us. We hate that our pope makes gaffes (like we all do – and none ex cathedra, I might add). We hate when fellow Catholics misrepresent the universal Catholic Church. The Venerable Archbishop Fulton Sheen rightly said, “Not 100 in the United States hate the Roman Catholic Church, but millions hate what they mistakenly think the Roman Catholic Church is.” The kaleidoscope of faith should keep us humble. Too often, however, we miss the irony of ourselves not showing mercy and love to others.

Blessed are they who have kept the word with a generous heart,
and yield a harvest through perseverance.

The ability to be kind in the face of cruelty is the redemption of humanity; to seek to benefit others, not just ourselves; to spread love instead of coveting it; to know the race is worth running, even when we struggle to keep up. This is what sainthood means: to be generous in this life as God is with us, and to bring Christ to others in reflection of the way He seeks us. To know of Christ and to know Christ are two different hearts.

Let brotherly love continue.
Do not neglect hospitality,
for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels.

In all our interactions, we must love. These are the greatest commandments. It is our love of God which motivates us to love our neighbor as ourself. Hospitality is in the home, yes, and in all interactions. The internet is not a safe-zone. It is a place where hearts can be met, changed, and nourished. Today, let us not be as King Herod – let us not slaughter the righteous because they mis-worded their argument, or believe something we disagree with, or fear others if we do not publicly act in a certain way.

Remember your leaders who spoke the word of God to you.
Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith.
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Jesus Christ is the same forever, no matter what someone’s Facebook post or Tweet said. Let the Lord be our light!

{Originally posted at Ignitum Today}

#5Faves: Staycations

Hello from the snow and the east coast! I am really missing New Orleans these days - Grace and I would take walks every day in the mild winter weather; could walk to mass (and then walk to donuts); live comfortably in our apartment without three layers of clothing or heat, for that matter.

Josef Pieper, in his book Leisure: The Basis Of Culture, wrote, “Leisure is only possible when we are at one with ourselves. We tend to overwork as a means of self-escape, as a way of trying to justify our existence.”

Here are ways I'm creating paradise in my world:

{one}

Skype! Facetime. Google talk. However you are able to see and talk with friends and family is my favorite indulgence. Mostly, I call family to check in and so Grace can see+hear her family (so as to better recognize and know them). I'm also trying to Skype friends more, because it's a coffee date without leaving the comforts of home. I've talked to friends in Germany, California, Michigan and Alabama in the past two weeks, all from Pennsylvania.

{two}

Citrus fruit. Grapefruit, oranges, pineapple - take me away! Tis the season, after all. If I was more motivated, I would fix pineapple upside down cake. I hear broiled grapefruit is also delicious, but I prefer the raw deal.

{three}

Explore locally. We live in a town with a lot of history. Our baby isn't old enough to care or demand, so we're able to enjoy ourselves without protest. I'm looking forward to going to a New Jersey beach this summer too! Eating out, on the other hand, is not Grace's cup of tea. We took her to Five Guys, and she doesn't like french fries. Who is this baby?!

{four}

Do whatever you want! Laundry always needs folding, the space always needs cleaning, there is always grading to catch up on... drop it. For an hour (or two) - write, read a book, catch up on a show... something to indulge. This is my new life goal: to embrace a little leisure, to loosen up the standards. Sometimes during nap time, but mostly after we put Grace to bed and clean up the kitchen - there is time for me. I like this time, and I try to use it very purposefully.

{five}

Learn something new! Get creative. I really love watercolors and ink, and I am currently getting back into drawing and keeping a daily devotion to Scripture as my inspiration - sort of an art prayer book? Plus I get to use my colored pencils and crayons more. Shazam!

Source

Joining up with Jenna and co.! 

What do you do for stay cations?

Michael Keaton and a Grateful Heart

Last night at the Golden Globes, Michael Keaton said the reason people go on about thanking so many people is because there are so many people to thank.

The heart of his thankfulness? His family. Watch and listen here - so much goodness, truth and beauty. I really love this little speech, and I am glad he was able to give it!

H/T Deacon Greg Kandra at Patheos

My View (Vol. 27)

What I am reading: Discipline: The Glad Surrender by Elisabeth Elliot

"God has arranged things in such a way that his own action is coupled with the actions of men. The Bible is replete with examples of a loving and powerful God choosing sinful and weak men to accomplish His purposes, allowing them the dignity to act in freedom and thus to have a willed part in what He does."

"God does not coerce us to follow Him. He invites us. He wills us that we should will--that is, He wills our freedom to decline or accept. If we want to be disciples, we place ourselves, like the football player or instrumentalist, under someone's direction."

What I am eating: french toast mini muffins. You read that correctly.

Meal planning: My family was in Bethlehem for the past week, so I did NO COOKING and it was awesome. The week before (Christmas), my bestie Vivian came down and did all the cooking - oh, professional chef. NBD. Needless to say, I am a little intimidated to jump back into the meal planning game. Vivian made it look so easy (and tasty). Dad is also an amateur chef, so I am/ was tres spoiled.

But back to reality. Grace and I went to the grocery store this morning and here's the deal:

Breakfast: oatmeal, fruit, COFFEE (not black), milk 

snack 1 options: greek yogurt + chia seeds, kind bar, water 

Lunch: hardboiled egg, swiss, turkey and avocado/ tomato on ciabatta, clementines, bell pepper slices, sparkling water {some variation} 

snack 2 options: fruit twist; almond nut thins + cheese; apple + peanut butter, water 

Dinner: 

• Baked chicken thighs with quinoa + green beans

• Chicken stir fry (chicken, rice, eggs, peas + carrots, soy sauce)

• Tilapia with roasted sweet potatoes and bell peppers + fried spaghetti (Will's favorite)

snack 3 options: popcorn, raisins, juice

I was really tough with myself this week and bought no sweets (sans the french toast mini muffins, sue me). I have gained an appropriately low amount of weight during pregnancy, but I don't want it to end my pregnancy jumping higher because I ate all the Frango mint chocolates my family brought me (or the cheesecake I've been dreaming about). I almost bought a package of Julie's organic sorbet bars (my fave), but, for better or worse, I forgot to pick them up until I was in the car, driving away. I'm also trying to eat more vegetables... because they are not very appetizing to me right now, and very nutritious. My family also left a family size pack of bell peppers in my fridge so... chop chop!

What are y'all eating? Anything that might tempt me?

This week in history: Two OB appointments and two therapy sessions - I may have enjoyed the lack of therapy a little too much. It was nice to be off the hamster wheel for a bit!

Will was off work and my whole family (sans one brother + pets) was in town, so last week was the best week ever. Also, Bebe Baldwin is moving and grooving - I love feeling her so active!

Prayers: Will is in the MICU for the next month, and this is already a tough rotation (for both of us). 5 a.m. gone, home by Grace's bed time (maybe). Then, early to bed! I shocked myself by waking up with Will today, sleeping a little bit longer, and then getting up around 6 a.m. Who am I??

We find out Grace's blood panel tests results tomorrow or Tuesday...

For all those genuinely trying to reform in the new year, be it self or habit(s).

Peace abroad, at home, and in our own hearts.

Special intentions! {Like... my phone is missing. No more pictures for y'all without it! Now you know my secret. St. Anthony!!!!}

Next week I am going to: Buckle down on getting ahead for my classes - I am currently working on having half of February and all of March "done" lecture and assignment-wise so all I have to do is lecture and grade when Bebe Baldwin first arrives. Since my parents swooped in and bought me huge bookcases for my office (and more!), I'm going to start unloading all those perpetually traveling boxes finally.

Grace and I are having all-day Mommy-Daughter dates for six days, so we're kicking off today with grocery shopping, all-over cleaning, napping, and lots of playing. She is seriously the best sport - and the fact that I downloaded a painting app to my iPad for her while I clean has nothing to do with that!

I'm also returning to my Wunderlist (available on the computer and as an app!). The Type A in me likey. Does anyone else use it?

Happy January, everyone!

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Master of My Fate

"Invictus" by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
      Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
      For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
      I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
      Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
      Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
      How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
      I am the captain of my soul.

**

I am up late, finishing changing the dates for my US History class, Spring Semester. I am thinking about sending the above poem to my students as a reminder that they are more than their grades, and still responsible for turning in their papers and quizzes on time, as well as following procedure. But another day...

Will is on break, and it feels really, really good to have him around. My family is visiting from Ohio, and it feels really, really good to have them around. I am napping a lot and that feels really good too.

Today, Will, Grace and I had our first ever family portraits done. They turned out well, and I am excited to pick up the cd and copies in about two weeks. Here is Grace getting ready for her close-ups:

I am not thinking about Will starting MICU this Friday, and I am definitely not thinking about all the work I need to get done before sweet Bebe Deux is born in February.

I am staying up late with my sisters, watching The Grand Budapest Hotel, talking about life, and talking about nothing. I am enjoying my vacation. I hope you are too.

I am the master of my fate! I am the captain of my soul.

Why I Don't Ask About Future Babies

TW: babies, infertility, miscarriage

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. I've never lost a baby in utero, but it's more common than many admit. Both my mother and my mother-in-law have children in Heaven, and my Father says that losing that baby (whom he calls "Joseph") is what firmly cemented him in the every-life-is-precious camp.

I am also in this camp: both my babies are miracles. I do not take either of them for granted. I have too many friends who have confided in me that they have lost a baby in utero, or have been unsuccessful in conceiving a dear one.

It's a common enough sentiment: a couple gets married -- So! when are you going to have a baby?!

Then, that baby is born. A few months later: So! when are you going to have another baby?!

Sometimes, people ask because they think you should wait. Other times, they ask because they hope it is soon. Most times, people are just being nosy.

Will and I have discerned differently about baby timings, and fortunately, so far, we've conceived both times under an agreed-upon time frame. After bebe deux is born next year, we will re-evaluate for when we'd like bebe tres to make a mark in the world. We will continue to re-evaluate and talk about it, which is one of the definite perks and intimacies of natural family planning.

But we're realistic that babies have their own timelines. That conception rates are under 25 percent. That we've been very, very, very lucky and blessed to have two under two.

When we ask people about their baby timelines, it brings up a lot of emotions: it brings up career fears and ambitions, it brings up longing and doubt, it brings up the serious side of sex and the true effort that goes into having a baby.

Not everyone is so lucky.

Many people will try for years. Some people suffer miscarriages, even multiple miscarriages. Those losses are not easy to move on from, and the woman's body often needs time to heal, as well as her spirit.

When I became pregnant with our second, I was ecstatic. It was exactly right. Will was excited, and this means our two babies will be babies together. We wanted the first two close in age.

Then, sadness draped over me like a mantle I could not take off. I couldn't tell anyone! Anyone who was married and trying, anyone I knew who was suffering from not becoming pregnant. This pregnancy would hurt them, deeply. I told my family and slowly told friends, and wondered when I should go public. Technically, I did not have to go public - but these days, I couldn't avoid having my picture taken for nine months, and then no one would notice the extra baby just happening to hang out with us...

After a month and a half of this sadness, I realized that it is good to rejoice over the happiness of our second, and there is a time to be sad with others.

I would never wish away my babies, but I can pray for those angels in Heaven, including my brother Joseph, and for their families on earth.

I should add that I do not mind discussing babies or future babies with the well-intentioned and loved ones; but there should be a spirit of discretion. I pray that the joy I have with my babies will inspire a love and want to pour out self-wants and fear, and fall in love with the little human who will always love you better than you can love yourself.

Now, back to the baby who is calling "mama!" to me...!

Handling It

If there was one thing I could change about myself, it would be my over commitment compulsion. I am constantly saying "YES!" when I should be saying "another time" or "no thank you!"

This has led to happiness, and defeat. For me, it currently leads to stress headaches.

I'm not going to say that's okay, but it is my life right now, and I accept the responsibilities. God gives you what you can handle... And you ladle on the extra gravy. It's human nature, y'all. Never satisfied; just one more bite!

Will tells me to focus on one thing: I'm perpetually scatter minded, or maybe I am just trying to multi-task poorly. So before I go back to dancing with GHB (she's self-feeding more breakfast to the tunes of Taylor Swift) or another load of laundry or prepping for class and whatever else I have to do this morning, I'm going to write about how I "handle it" because, frankly, sometimes I don't.

Life is never going to be easy. Let's just accept this fact right now. It's not going to be easy to make friends, meet people, be successful, feel financially set, be caught up on your work load, get enough sleep, find time for X, Y, or Z. Exercise? It's not easy. It's hard. And it's important for a healthy life. You make time for the things that matter, and you handle the rest.

Do you feel like you're on a hamster wheel? Do you feel bored or lonely? Take an honest look at your life. What concrete changes could you make (and control) to make life more fulfilling?

My biggest stumbling block right now is my nausea and overwhelming tiredness, but I also procrastinate on everything. Not feeling well only enables that. So, while picking up printer ink and paper at Staples this week, I found a ready-made To-Do list notepad. Unnecessary and super awesome purchase for $1.49. On one side, I write down the immediate must-dos. These include taking a shower, drinking coffee, prepping for class. On the other side, I write the day's goals: vacuum, clear off the downstairs radiators, empty and load the dishwasher, make the beds.

I have bigger goals too, like put Grace's 0-9 month clothes in the new plastic bin, and put away my own warm weather, non-maternity clothes away in the second new plastic bin. My office needs serious hours put in so that it is functional more than a very large storage room, and the laundry room needs help too. And even bigger goals! Like finishing all my readings for my classes! Finishing multiple articles I have started! But those are not for today.

Today started when Grace woke up around 2:48 a.m. I went in to nurse her, and normally, she goes right back to bed, but since my supply has tanked, she cried ferociously instead until Will was the Hero and took her for the rest of the night/ morning, because I was so tired, I could hardly open my eyes, let alone take her downstairs to feed her two more jars of baby food.

Will is going to be gone all day - grand rounds, then a shift in the ER till 9 p.m. Today is a day I have to handle it. I have to get Grace to therapy, I have to teach two classes, I have to make sure I eat, and taking care of GHB. I am not thinking about the right side of my to-do list because it can overwhelm me, so I focus on one thing at a time. Right now, I am focusing on actually finishing a blog post, which I have failed the do the past few days.

Married folks, in-between people, and single ladies and lads, I am a full believer in living up and appreciating your current vocation. Don't accept that hardships are your lot. Don't depend on other people to make you happy or engage your mind - but don't push people away either.

Cultivate a community. They may not be your best friends (not everyone can be!), but find people you can depend on, and people you can ask for help. Be there for others in their time of need. Listen to others more. Volunteer your time, if you do have it -- there are so many more people who are desperate for the kind of help many of us take for granted.

I am going to keep today's responsorial Psalm close to my heart this day:

R. (1) Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.
Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good,
for his mercy endures forever.
Let the house of Israel say,
“His mercy endures forever.”
R. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.
“The right hand of the LORD is exalted;
the right hand of the LORD has struck with power.”
I shall not die, but live,
and declare the works of the LORD.
R. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.
You are my God, and I give thanks to you;
O my God, I extol you.
R. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.

Whatever your troubles are - be they too much time or not enough time - may you find solace in your human purpose and propensity for good, and may you spread love and laughter to those around you. Keep your blessings close and your problems in perspective. Whatever you need to do, you can do it. You can handle this life - and enjoy it too.

Grace's Diagnosis: Or, What Cerebral Palsy Means

Grace turned 11 months this week. It is time to write about Grace's diagnosis. I have thought and prayed a lot about it; I fear ignorance, and I want to dispel fear. What people do not know, they Google. And internet search engines do not diagnosis people. {p.s. this is a long post}

If I had a quarter for every time someone told me how beautiful my daughter Grace is, or how she looks like the Gerber baby, or how she should be a model, Grace's first year of college would be paid in full. It's fact, not opinion. My daughter has beautiful eyes, long eyelashes, a perfectly round head with a cute chin, a button nose, a rosebud mouth, and the softest skin. The way she catches your eye and smiles; the way she laughs! When she was born, I couldn't stop staring at her or holding her. She is still so perfect.

She was born at 40 weeks, 2 days. A low risk, uncomplicated pregnancy; I pushed for almost an hour and a half. Her APGAR scores were 9 and 10, and her Moro reflex was perfect. We got released early from the hospital, which was a God-send. I couldn't sleep with nurses coming in every hour or so.

Around 3 months, we noticed she liked to keep her right hand fisted. The family nicknamed her "Little Lefty Baldwin" - but I read that kids do not prefer a hand until 2-4 years old. Will and I started to talk possibilities. We decided, if she was still clenching her hand, we would bring up PT/OT to Grace's pediatrician.

At six months, she was examined by three doctors, none of whom were conclusive about why her hand was clenching. She was moving her arm around, opening her hand occasionally, and responding well to tests. Her pediatrician prescribed PT/OT through a Louisiana program called Early Steps.

A month of evaluations, and she was in the system. Grace was assigned a therapist we called Ms. Lisa, and she was a wonder woman for Grace. She taught us so much too, and recommended us to see a pediatric physiatrist, Dr. Karlin; he attended Mayo for medical school, is triple board certified, and well-known for diagnosing hard cases. He also has cerebral palsy.

Dr. Karlin met with us, examined Grace, had Grace's bones scanned, and wanted to do a CT scan on her as well. Will pushed for an MRI instead, because if the CT scan was inconclusive, we would have to do an MRI anyways, and he wanted Grace to have the least exposure to the radiation.

On May 26, Grace's 8th month mark, she had her MRI. In retrospect, it was such a blessed day. I was not allowed to breastfeed her for six+ hours, and I was petrified she would be weeping from hunger. Quite the opposite - she got mad at me briefly, but was in quite good spirits for the whole procedure.

Later that day, we got a phone call from Dr. Karlin's office to meet him the next day to discuss Grace's MRI. Will and I felt a little trepidation, but Grace's symptoms never seemed serious enough for major concern.

Nothing prepared us for seeing the MRI.

In utero, Grace suffered a massive stroke. In an adult, it would have been devastating. But Grace's little brain is so elastic, and it already started to heal itself (my non-medical opinion based on how well she was/is doing/ apparent muscle weakness). Later, we met with a neurosurgeon, who said she would not need a shunt, which means there is no fluid build-up. This diagnosis is not progressive. Grace can only get better.

Grace has right hemiparesis cerebral palsy. This mean she had a stroke before the age of 1 (cerebral palsy), and it affected part of the left side of her brain, which affects the right side of her body (right hemiparesis). Her right arm, hand and leg are weaker than her left. The neurosurgeon also said, with intensive physical and occupational therapy, she should have full strength on her right side by age 5 or 6. She may need speech therapy in the future. She may continue therapy past 5 or 6.

There are still a lot of unknowns. There are still a lot of hope. Grace has unlimited potential! The doctors are amazed at her -- she was a difficult case to diagnose because her symptoms did not fit the mold. She is already doing things we were told she may never do, like crawl. GHB thrives because of her self-determination, and by the enormous love and support of her family.

I have resisted publishing my thoughts on Grace's diagnosis because the emotions are so raw. I'm sensitive to thoughtless comments, though, and after the beyond base tweet of Richard Dawkins that parents who do not abort their children with Down syndrome are "immoral" (and should just "try again"), I could no longer be silent.

No one chooses to have children with special needs (besides adoption): we are chosen. We are chosen, even when we are scared and feel weak and do not know how we can be the best thing for the child. Grace had a stroke in utero that just happened (so the doctors have told us thus far); I do not have any medical issues, or family history, and the pregnancy was healthy and low risk.

Staring at Grace's MRI that day with Will, my chest tightened, and I didn't believe what I was seeing. And Will, who understood better than I what we were looking at, only strengthened his resolve to make sure Grace gets exactly what she needs from us to thrive. He is certainly the best father to Grace, and exactly who she needs.

It is okay to be scared when your child is given a scary diagnosis. But you are exactly what you need for your child. I was scared - what if I did her exercises wrong? What if...? But when it came down to it, that was pride speaking. My comfort zone didn't like someone else sitting on the couch, demanding my time and energy, compassion and empathy.

Moreover, I've been amazed by the time and compassion given to us by Grace's doctors and therapists, both in New Orleans and now here in PA. They are teaching me as much as they are teaching Grace. They give me perspective, and they give me insights. I am a better mother and person because of their witness and encouragement.

Dawkins also said that autistic people should not be aborted because they contribute to society. Reader, you may be thinking, Why are you even engaging in these ludicrous ideas?

Answer: Because they exist and people are perpetuating them. The current statistics say that 85 percent of fetuses (that is, an unborn human being living within its mother's womb) with Down syndrome are terminated in utero. That is beyond unbelievable. For all the uproar happening about the horrific killings in the Middle East with ISIS, we need to put on our consistency pants and stop being so self-centered that we would rather kill a child than "burden" ourselves by caring and love him or her.

The burden of special needs children is a unique one, countered purely by the outpouring of love for the individual child. Yes, financial sacrifices are made. If you know a family with severe special needs, I think giving them financial assistance would be a beautiful gift. For some disabilities, there is also state-funded help (which does not match/ often go as long as private, but it is a start). But we cannot put a number on a child if they are already alive.

Sitting in the waiting room today, before Grace's therapy appointment, I witnessed children of different needs and their parents or caretakers. The love of these children is so apparent, and because of their disabilities, the parents give more love. In the face of frustration, love. Every day, we must choose love. There is no other path: we teach our children by example, and how to be the best version of themselves, and how to be kind and patient with themselves. Love overcometh; love spilleth over.

The question has been asked, "Would you change your child's diagnosis if you could?" But how could I change that reality about my daughter? Any more than I could change her sandy hair with the little curls, or her bright blue eyes, or stubbornness.

How could I take away her witness to the world - her chance to overcome, and learn that goodness comes with the struggle. She may cry during our therapy sessions: her Dad and me trying to teach her to use her right hand, to crawl and scoot, and to use her right side as she does her left. I am fully aware of her limitations: but they are not forever. Even if she never gains full use of her right side, she has already progressed farther than where she was at a few months ago. She is continually amazing us.

One day, I look forward to her using both hands to drink from a cup, or read a book, or hold on to a swing. One day, I hope to watch her running strong and studying hard. Her physical limitations are temporary; we will teach her love, virtues, curiosity, and about our God.

A good friend of mine has a son with autism, and she talked to me a lot after Grace's diagnosis. She told me how Grace's new needs take me off the motherhood hamster wheel, and will continue to give me a new perspective on how amazing my daughter is. I will continue to push Grace, but I will also be more tender. I will not take her for granted: I will be grateful.

Do not ever feel sorry for GHB because she has cerebral palsy. It is part of her; it is not her. The range of cerebral palsy cases is similar to Downs syndrome and autism - there is not a one size fits all solution.

I hope, by writing about our journey with Grace and cerebral palsy, to change the attitude that children with special needs are a burden. I hope to show the way a child loves a parent can open a heart more fully, a heart this writer tries to keep protected, until it bleeds onto the keyboard and words are formed. I hope to stop the ignorance that special needs children are more work than they are worth - because their life will change your life, and for the better. They are a gift to all of us - and especially me!

**

A few of my favorite blogs to share...

• Sarah writes at WifeyTini about many things (language warning!), and quite hilariously so. She has a son, Henry, with spina bifida, and writes an awesome posts to "change the way we talk about disability in this culture":

I am not an expert on sociology, or language, or (least of all) people with special needs. All I know is that every day since we learned Henry would have spina bifida, we were conditioned to think the worst about his diagnosis. We were advised to terminate, by more than one person, seemingly because a life with spina bifida is so terrible that it’s better to not live it at all. Can you comprehend that? There is such a disconnect between the beautiful children I see who happen to have a disability, and the sorry, deformed, faceless nobodies that our culture makes them out to be. And the disconnect didn’t hit me — not really — until right after Henry was born. 

I was holding him, actually, when I got the phone call. It was a nurse from some county office, wanting to let us know that, because of Henry’s condition, we qualified for food stamps and other assistance (which we declined). 

“I’m calling,” she said, her voice dripping with sympathy, “because we hear you’ve had an adverse birth outcome.” 

What? I thought. He died? And then I realized she was talking about Henry. What the shit? I mean, he’s got some issues, sure. But adverse? A “birth outcome”? 

The thing about defining moments is that you don’t really realize they’re defining at the time. My response wasn’t one of righteous indignation. I didn’t deliver some Sorkin-esque speech. I said “Wow. Uh, no?” And then I laughed. Because it was ridiculous. I wasn’t mad, don’t get me wrong — I’m sure she was a very nice woman who was tasked with having a very uncomfortable conversation with a hormonal, post-partum stranger. I get that. But damn if what she said didn’t knock my socks off. So that’s how you see them, I realized. That’s how you see my baby.

Excerpted from her post "I smell an agenda..." You bet your balls you do.

• Mary at Passionate Perseverance makes me want to have a coffee date with her every single day (which I can, though her Instagram!). Her love for her daughter Courtney is bubbling from every post, even ones chronicling hard days, and her witness is inspiring:

After a little back and forth between him and the students explaining all the medical procedures that have been done on Miss Courtney, we opened the floor to questions. Oh the questions I got. Medical questions, family questions and psychological questions. Questions about faith, freedom of choice/assisted suicide and day in/day out care of our sweet girl. This little impromptu class took over 90 minutes and it was fascinating. There was laughter, tears and even a few "I'm sorry's" which I asked them not to say.   

I explained that saying "I am sorry" to me about what was happening wasn't necessary. There is nothing for anyone to be sorry about. Miss Courtney belongs to God, always has, always will. Jerry and I just get to borrow her for a little while. She is a living saint and part of her job is to be a witness to the faithfulness of Our Lord who is always be by our side. He has been right here with us from the very first moments of her life in the womb.

Excerpted from her post "little miss sunshine update... every day is a gift..." 

• Finally, Love That Max is a special needs blog about a boy named Max with cerebral palsy. His mom writes so eloquently about it:

So there's all the crappy stuff, and then there's the reality of Max. He is a really bright kid who's well aware of what's happening in this world (and who never lets his little sister put one over on him). He likes to learn, and picks up things quickly. The cp hasn't prevented him from walking or riding a bike. The cp hasn't prevented him from playing with trucks, coloring, downing ice-cream or doing all the other stuff little kids love to do. The cp has not affected his incredible determination, his spirit, his sunny disposition, his sense of humor, his fantastic attitude. Max doesn't yet know he has cerebral palsy. Someday, he will, but I'm not concerned it will change his perspective on who he is. 

If you don't have a child with disabilities, the cerebral palsy may seem like a tragedy to you. I'm here to say, it isn't. Do I wish he didn't have it? Of course I do. But do I wish that I didn't have a temper? Yes. Do I wish that Dave didn't have such trouble listening? Yeah. Do I wish that Sabrina was more patient? Yes. We all have our weaknesses, and while Max's may be more involved and more obvious, they're part of who he is. 

Cerebral palsy has not defined his life.

From her post "It's Cerebral Palsy Awareness Day and hello, world, my child is not a tragedy"

And these two posts on Downs syndrome: "Dear Richard Dawkins, You Are Wrong" and "A Different View: Three Years Later"

**

Happy [belated] 11 months, ma bebe! I am loving all your babbling; how vocal and definite your responses are to actions. You signal for "more" by slapping your left hand down, and you shake your head for "no."

Your smile is always the best part. You've started sitting up in your crib in the morning and after nap time, which also means you occasionally get your leg stuck between the bars (whoops!). You make me feel like the most special person in the world when we play together - you are so curious and fun! It makes my heart melt the way you get so excited upon seeing your Dad. You still love peekaboo, which is one of my favorite games too. I wish you'd let me hold/ finish reading the book during story times, but it is super cute the way you turn the pages yourself.

You love kisses and tickles, and I love giving them to you. You are ridiculously flexible. You love singing along to music, and are especially loud during mass (singing, you know, is praying twice!). I'm also glad you love walks, going on errands, car rides and snuggles, because we do that a lot together. You especially love when your Dad and I are both paying attention to you at the same time. You make every day a perfect treat.

We love you, Grace Harriet!