I can't believe that I went 33 years of my life without really knowing someone with Down syndrome. It seems hard to imagine. I graduated from a fairly large High School - my class was 450 students. You mean to tell me there was no one my age or even a year or two on either side of me with Down syndrome? Or perhaps they weren't included and were off in a separate space. And maybe they were there and I just didn't notice.
I have only one memory of actually interacting with someone with Down syndrome. I was maybe 9 or 10 and we went to this big party every year. The kids would all be set loose upstairs while the parents were downstairs. More often than not, we would start a huge game of hide-and-go-seek. There was a girl there with Down syndrome who was close to my age. We convinced her to stand really still like a statue and that would be a good hiding place.
I can remember wondering why she believed us and I couldn't really figure it out. Now that I think back on it, I am embarrassed about my actions. Sure, we included her and let her play our game. But we treated her like the little sister you didn't really want tagging along but Mom made you play with.
Now when I see an individual with Down syndrome, I feel like I want to acknowledge them with a little "I'm part of the club too". Of course I don't because that would just be odd. I'm so proud of my buddy and feel honored to be his Mom. I hope that the next generation of kids growing up will think nothing of having a friend with a special need and having kids of all different abilities a part of the classroom.
September 14, 2010
September 10, 2010
letting go
Monkey bear started preschool this week. I'm not sure who was more traumatized... her or me. She was so brave and put on the excited face. But when it came time for us to leave her alone, she just lost it. First there was the look of terror in her eyes followed closely by the quivering lip. Then came the pleas of not to leave her with big crocodile tears. The worst part was the heart wrenching screams as I ran out of the room as quickly as possible.
When we picked her up she said she had so much fun and wants to go back. Monkey bear claims she won't cry again. She talked about how she took big breaths to calm herself down and did a Caillou puzzle with tears still in her eyes. Being a stay-at-home-mom without a consistent babysitter, she rarely gets left with anyone. I know that she needs to spread her wings and rely on herself more.
I never imagined how hard it would be for me to let go. I understand that the most important job of a parent is to bring out the best in your child and then set them free into the world. Letting them discover their place in the world is as vital as making sure they eat their fruits and veggies.
We were on vacation recently. Monkey bear was too scared to sleep in the bed by herself so she climbed into bed with me. I must admit, I don't do much better sleeping in a foreign bed than she does. While I was laying there, feeling like a child myself, I just stared at her amazed that I was her Mom. How could this little child rely on me so much for her safety and comfort when I couldn't even comfort myself? How on earth did I end up being in charge? It was a surreal moment that quickly passed.
I love that my children can constantly amaze me. I love that look in their eye when you can just see the love bursting out of them. No matter how many long days there may be when I don't think I can make it for even a minute more, every second is worth it. Monkey bear may have 5 hours each week away from me followed by years of school and eventually moving out on her own. But I know that there will always be a part of her that loves me in that special way reserved for your mom.
When we picked her up she said she had so much fun and wants to go back. Monkey bear claims she won't cry again. She talked about how she took big breaths to calm herself down and did a Caillou puzzle with tears still in her eyes. Being a stay-at-home-mom without a consistent babysitter, she rarely gets left with anyone. I know that she needs to spread her wings and rely on herself more.
I never imagined how hard it would be for me to let go. I understand that the most important job of a parent is to bring out the best in your child and then set them free into the world. Letting them discover their place in the world is as vital as making sure they eat their fruits and veggies.
We were on vacation recently. Monkey bear was too scared to sleep in the bed by herself so she climbed into bed with me. I must admit, I don't do much better sleeping in a foreign bed than she does. While I was laying there, feeling like a child myself, I just stared at her amazed that I was her Mom. How could this little child rely on me so much for her safety and comfort when I couldn't even comfort myself? How on earth did I end up being in charge? It was a surreal moment that quickly passed.
I love that my children can constantly amaze me. I love that look in their eye when you can just see the love bursting out of them. No matter how many long days there may be when I don't think I can make it for even a minute more, every second is worth it. Monkey bear may have 5 hours each week away from me followed by years of school and eventually moving out on her own. But I know that there will always be a part of her that loves me in that special way reserved for your mom.
September 1, 2010
worries
I was prepared for motherhood in all the practical ways. But there were a few things that caught me by surprise. You can never imagine how your heart will grow with each child. People always tell you that you will never be the same, but the words don't even come close to how it feels.
Along with all the love comes a boat full of worries. I never knew how each fever and cough would tear me up inside. For me, the anticipation of each illness is so much worse than the reality. I have a feeling that monitors are the work of the devil. I can't go for more than a few minutes not being able to hear them.
There are the daily troubles. Are they getting enough sleep? Is their diet balanced enough? Should I be doing more art projects or playing more board games? Why are they crying?
I also worry about what the future will bring for both of them. Will they have broken hearts? Will they find their place in this world? Will they find true friends? Will they live long, healthy lives? It's so hard to imagine these precious little ones as teenagers trying to navigate through peer pressure. Will they be prepared and have enough confidence to make it through?
Then there are the worries specific to my buddy. Will he be able to live independently? Will the kids be mean to him? Will kids be mean to monkey bear because of my buddy? Will it hurt so much more when he is teased as a teenager?
I'm not sure if my heart will every stop feeling unsettled. Is there ever an age when your kids are free from your concerns? I know, even at my ripe old age, when my mom comes to visit, she tells me when it is time to go to bed.
Along with all the love comes a boat full of worries. I never knew how each fever and cough would tear me up inside. For me, the anticipation of each illness is so much worse than the reality. I have a feeling that monitors are the work of the devil. I can't go for more than a few minutes not being able to hear them.
There are the daily troubles. Are they getting enough sleep? Is their diet balanced enough? Should I be doing more art projects or playing more board games? Why are they crying?
I also worry about what the future will bring for both of them. Will they have broken hearts? Will they find their place in this world? Will they find true friends? Will they live long, healthy lives? It's so hard to imagine these precious little ones as teenagers trying to navigate through peer pressure. Will they be prepared and have enough confidence to make it through?
Then there are the worries specific to my buddy. Will he be able to live independently? Will the kids be mean to him? Will kids be mean to monkey bear because of my buddy? Will it hurt so much more when he is teased as a teenager?
I'm not sure if my heart will every stop feeling unsettled. Is there ever an age when your kids are free from your concerns? I know, even at my ripe old age, when my mom comes to visit, she tells me when it is time to go to bed.
August 19, 2010
new moves
My buddy has developed some new moves. His early intervention therapists say some kids need to learn how to play. As far as I can see, he does just fine on his own... with a big dose of inspiration from monkey bear. He will feed the baby, hug the baby and cover her with a blanket. That is until he realizes his true nature and then baby is body slammed into the ground.
My buddy's new signature move is a full body tackle while screaming so hard the veins in his neck bulge. He is strong enough to knock me over if I'm not prepared and he takes monkey bear down every time. It really is funny until you are at a playgroup and he thinks little Julia is on the opposing team. I suppose he could stand to learn some appropriate play.
His sneakiest move consists of starting trouble across the room while you are sitting, say, at the computer. While you head over there to clean up said trouble, he makes a beeline for your chair. My buddy can now climb into a chair in the blink of an eye and open 10 windows on the computer before you even realize he's not right behind you. My signature move now includes sprints across the room to stop trouble and then back to the chair before new trouble arises.
The funniest move my buddy has gets pulled out in a group setting. If we are at the park and there are a group of adults sitting around watching the kids, my buddy will single one out and walk almost all the way up to them. He will then stop with his legs really wide, tilt his head to the side, stick out an arm while wiggling his little fingers, and say "aaahhhhh". (that's how we say Hi in these parts) It never fails to get a smile along with a, "how cute is he!".
I could go on and on about all the things he does. I think monkey bear said it best: "He is the one in our family that makes me laugh."
My buddy's new signature move is a full body tackle while screaming so hard the veins in his neck bulge. He is strong enough to knock me over if I'm not prepared and he takes monkey bear down every time. It really is funny until you are at a playgroup and he thinks little Julia is on the opposing team. I suppose he could stand to learn some appropriate play.
His sneakiest move consists of starting trouble across the room while you are sitting, say, at the computer. While you head over there to clean up said trouble, he makes a beeline for your chair. My buddy can now climb into a chair in the blink of an eye and open 10 windows on the computer before you even realize he's not right behind you. My signature move now includes sprints across the room to stop trouble and then back to the chair before new trouble arises.
The funniest move my buddy has gets pulled out in a group setting. If we are at the park and there are a group of adults sitting around watching the kids, my buddy will single one out and walk almost all the way up to them. He will then stop with his legs really wide, tilt his head to the side, stick out an arm while wiggling his little fingers, and say "aaahhhhh". (that's how we say Hi in these parts) It never fails to get a smile along with a, "how cute is he!".
I could go on and on about all the things he does. I think monkey bear said it best: "He is the one in our family that makes me laugh."
August 10, 2010
I would never...
I was a nanny for 9 year and had compiled a grand list of things-I-would-never-do when I was the mom. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Here's just a short list of the rules I've broken thus far:
* chocolate before 9:00am
* pick my child's nose
* couch, carseat, and carpet all encrusted with half chewed crackers
* donuts a few times a month
* TV as a babysitter/pacifier
* share a lollipop with my child
* out in public with mismatched clothes with a hint of lunch on them and no shoes
Oh, motherhood is nothing like you think it will be. I do however have my proud moments. For one, my kids have never eaten fast food (unless you count the munchkins). We laugh full belly laughs every day. I shower them with hugs and kisses with plenty of I-love-you's on top. And I really try and listen to them... well just her for now. My buddy's biggest heart-to-heart is a deep need for more crackers.
There are so many amazing moments in the life of your children. Sometimes it's hard to focus on them when all you can see is the trouble and the whining and the nonstop needs. I've been trying to tell myself that they won't be young forever and don't sweat the small stuff. Monkey bear is terrified of dogs - no big deal. My buddy still uses a bottle - chances are he won't when he is 16. They both want to be in my lap at the same time... bring it on. I will take every snuggle I can get now and store it away for when they are teenagers.
I spent years not knowing what I wanted to do with my life. Wondering who I was supposed to be. Then all of a sudden these two amazing little beings plopped into my life and made me Mom. I am right where I belong.
* chocolate before 9:00am
* pick my child's nose
* couch, carseat, and carpet all encrusted with half chewed crackers
* donuts a few times a month
* TV as a babysitter/pacifier
* share a lollipop with my child
* out in public with mismatched clothes with a hint of lunch on them and no shoes
Oh, motherhood is nothing like you think it will be. I do however have my proud moments. For one, my kids have never eaten fast food (unless you count the munchkins). We laugh full belly laughs every day. I shower them with hugs and kisses with plenty of I-love-you's on top. And I really try and listen to them... well just her for now. My buddy's biggest heart-to-heart is a deep need for more crackers.
There are so many amazing moments in the life of your children. Sometimes it's hard to focus on them when all you can see is the trouble and the whining and the nonstop needs. I've been trying to tell myself that they won't be young forever and don't sweat the small stuff. Monkey bear is terrified of dogs - no big deal. My buddy still uses a bottle - chances are he won't when he is 16. They both want to be in my lap at the same time... bring it on. I will take every snuggle I can get now and store it away for when they are teenagers.
I spent years not knowing what I wanted to do with my life. Wondering who I was supposed to be. Then all of a sudden these two amazing little beings plopped into my life and made me Mom. I am right where I belong.
July 26, 2010
taboo
I have thought long and hard about this post. Even as I write it, I am not sure if I will actually publish it or not. I have a completely selfish reason for writing - my sanity. For those with a weak stomach concerning "female issues" feel free to stop reading now.
I'm not sure how to say this with class, so I'll just get it out there. I recently had a miscarriage. I wasn't experiencing my usual pregnancy symptoms so I had some concerns, but didn't really think it would turn out this way.
The hardest part for me is the taboo that surrounds it. When an old friend asks if you are going to have more kids, you have two choices: (1) smile and say we'd love to have another (2) tell her the truth and stop conversation completely. I am not embarrassed to tell people, but I know it will just make them uncomfortable and there is nothing they can say that will help.
I have searched the internet looking for insight. I can't exactly place how I feel. I found a lot of websites with advice on how to memorialize your baby and mourn for the loss. But that doesn't describe how I'm feeling. I feel like an alien force has taken a hold of me and they are running an experiment. Can she chop dinner while sobbing quietly so the kids don't notice then plaster on a smile?
I don't have problems conceiving, so I know I can have another, if I so choose. I never saw a heartbeat and I said more than once that I didn't really feel pregnant.
But if it never felt real, why am I so depressed?
I blame those darn hormones. My body barely had time to register the immense change in getting pregnant and now it has to compensate for the hormones leaving. Not to mention that every time I see the blood, I can't help but think... is that a little part of my baby? Morbid, I know.
My logical side knows that it happens for a reason - usually something chromosomal. Then there's the emotional side... did the baby have Down syndrome and the universe didn't think I could handle another? And of course, there's the fear of what will happen if I get pregnant again.
The only light in all of this is that I didn't tell the kids. I don't think I could have handled explaining to monkey bear. I feel confident that with a little bit of time and hormonal balance, I will be myself again. I just have to make it there.
I'm not sure how to say this with class, so I'll just get it out there. I recently had a miscarriage. I wasn't experiencing my usual pregnancy symptoms so I had some concerns, but didn't really think it would turn out this way.
The hardest part for me is the taboo that surrounds it. When an old friend asks if you are going to have more kids, you have two choices: (1) smile and say we'd love to have another (2) tell her the truth and stop conversation completely. I am not embarrassed to tell people, but I know it will just make them uncomfortable and there is nothing they can say that will help.
I have searched the internet looking for insight. I can't exactly place how I feel. I found a lot of websites with advice on how to memorialize your baby and mourn for the loss. But that doesn't describe how I'm feeling. I feel like an alien force has taken a hold of me and they are running an experiment. Can she chop dinner while sobbing quietly so the kids don't notice then plaster on a smile?
I don't have problems conceiving, so I know I can have another, if I so choose. I never saw a heartbeat and I said more than once that I didn't really feel pregnant.
But if it never felt real, why am I so depressed?
I blame those darn hormones. My body barely had time to register the immense change in getting pregnant and now it has to compensate for the hormones leaving. Not to mention that every time I see the blood, I can't help but think... is that a little part of my baby? Morbid, I know.
My logical side knows that it happens for a reason - usually something chromosomal. Then there's the emotional side... did the baby have Down syndrome and the universe didn't think I could handle another? And of course, there's the fear of what will happen if I get pregnant again.
The only light in all of this is that I didn't tell the kids. I don't think I could have handled explaining to monkey bear. I feel confident that with a little bit of time and hormonal balance, I will be myself again. I just have to make it there.
July 14, 2010
happiness
A few weeks ago I read a book and I can't get it off my mind. The book was about one woman's pursuit of happiness. She goes on a year long search and in doing so tries all sorts of different things to boost her own happiness. You would think that this is what has stuck with me. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Out of 294 pages, one sentence - really just part of a sentence - has been dancing around my head.
In August, she decides to "contemplate the heavens" and one way of doing this is to read memoirs of "catastrophe". I think the aim is to become more aware of the preciousness of ordinary life. Along with memoirs on cancer, brain tumors and death, she reads a book about a woman who had a baby with Down syndrome. You think of my life as a catastrophe?
It feels like being in middle school and overhearing some girls make fun of your best friend.
I understand schadenfreude and the thought that things could always be worse. I just never thought my buddy was worse. And I can't believe that I take it all so personally. I've been trying to get it off my mind. But it's haunting me.
It doesn't help that I had to fill out a medical history and it asked if anyone in my family had: Down's syndrome (mongolism). So now I (the person that hides from any confrontation) has to go to my doctor's appointment and let them know that it is now known as Down (no 's) syndrome and the word mongolism is outdated and somewhat offensive.
There are some things you can prepare for, but there are always those things that sneak up on you just when you least expect if.
In August, she decides to "contemplate the heavens" and one way of doing this is to read memoirs of "catastrophe". I think the aim is to become more aware of the preciousness of ordinary life. Along with memoirs on cancer, brain tumors and death, she reads a book about a woman who had a baby with Down syndrome. You think of my life as a catastrophe?
It feels like being in middle school and overhearing some girls make fun of your best friend.
I understand schadenfreude and the thought that things could always be worse. I just never thought my buddy was worse. And I can't believe that I take it all so personally. I've been trying to get it off my mind. But it's haunting me.
It doesn't help that I had to fill out a medical history and it asked if anyone in my family had: Down's syndrome (mongolism). So now I (the person that hides from any confrontation) has to go to my doctor's appointment and let them know that it is now known as Down (no 's) syndrome and the word mongolism is outdated and somewhat offensive.
There are some things you can prepare for, but there are always those things that sneak up on you just when you least expect if.
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