Just RK

20 years ago, I was a freshman in college and loving it. 20 years ago, I was almost 18 years old. 20 years ago, I was the oldest of 4 kids in my family. Until #5 was born… 20 years ago today. Happy birthday, Ryan!  AKA, Buddy Fella, Fry, Squeak #2. (Wow, those are from a LONG time ago… I’m so out of date on nicknames.) I’ve never actually resided in the same house as this sibling (and another one following him…stay tuned for that birthday in November) but I’ll vouch for the fact that he still ranks high on my list of sibs.  Smarter than seems humanly possible, witty, polite and gentlemanly, athletically blessed, a fine example of faith, and totally thriving in the best and won’t-regret-it-later kind of way in college.  We’re all pretty proud of him. (And yes, little brother, if you see this, I clipped this from your FB photos.  And yes, I searched a long time to find one of you withOUT a cute young lady next to you.  And I did not succeed.  So my apologies to whoev

Today we went to Jack and Dashlyn's house after school to play and eat lunch.  It is so nice to have friends close by!

Kinlee picked up this picture today out of a photo album of “baby Mommy pictures” that the girls look through sometimes.  She looked at it for a moment and said, “Mommy, who is this holding me?”  I told her it wasn’t her, that it was me and that was my babysitter and Santa.  She looked at it again, pointed, and said, “No, who is holding ME?” It must be the emotion that’s tripping her up. Or maybe it’s the finger in the mouth.  Or maybe it’s the stylish attire.

This is my kitchen floor. It’s clean. The fact that I’m proud enough of it to take a picture and post it… pathetic. Yes, it’s that rare. And it’s almost midnight. But I got it done.  The kitchen is “clean” in my new normal way. That happens occasionally. But for me to actually clear the floor space and sweep and mop the floor. Twice.  Because I’m sure it needed that second pass. That’s something. Now, tomorrow it’s on to tackling the piles of clothes in the girls’ room.

She’s pretty, isn’t she?  I’m biased, and yeah, she resembles her mom a little… what can I say?? But really… sometimes I’m just surprised at how sweet she can be. Like when I told her the other day that I didn’t feel well, and she jumped up from across the room where she was playing.  “Mom, don’t worry, I’ll come give you a hug and a kiss and that will make you all better.”  She proceeded to do just that, with gusto.  And darn it, if I didn’t feel a bit better right then. She has been returning a bit to the ultra-dramatic phase, and that’s no fun, but in between… she is pretty fun.  She has a “buddy” for various things… Daddy is her “swim buddy,”  Miss Julie is her “QT buddy,”  and of course, her “shopping buddy” is Auntie Rach.  Just ask her.  She’s happy to tell you. Quite often, she will ask about feelings… “Mom, how are you feeling?”  And she is not asking about feeling tired or sick. She wants to know if I’m “pleased” or “grouchy” or “sad.”  Those are her most common opt

  Braska had some kind of weird night. It started yesterday afternoon.  She napped ok at Auntie Rachel’s while I was taking care of some things there.  Then she woke and seemed “off” or not herself.  She had a GREAT day at school yesterday, by all accounts, doing really well with feeding therapy (yay!) and classroom. We came home about 6 p.m. and she spent the evening very agitated. She didn’t want anything we offered. She acted exceptionally fidgety and had the sad, pouty face a lot.  She would flop on the floor, roll around and whine, then get up and take a few steps before flopping again.  When we would try to hold her, she’d squirm and then slide down off our laps. Everything we asked her about received a “No, not yet,” response with a very pathetic tone.  A few times she was knocking her head against the cabinet in the kitchen while I was there, and then the stove.  She only did this a few times, but I didn’t care for it one bit. At one point, I was able to distract her wi

It’s hard to watch the footage of 9/11.  It’s hard to hear the stories.  It’s hard to deal with the reality and gravity of what happened.  But we HAVE to remember.  We HAVE to honor the lives that were lost that day. And we MUST never forget what happened to our country that day.  As hard as it may be, hearing the stories and acknowledging the loss and the pain that was caused by the actions of other humans… it is necessary to be sure we do not allow the true horror of that day be left behind. We move on. We have, as a country, continued to live.  But to forget what occurred that day is dangerous. We must always be mindful of what can be.  Not in a fatalistic and pessimistic way, but in a realistic and honest way.  I know that many people don’t want to think about, hear about, or talk about the stories of that day.  It’s horribly hard to process.  But we need to be sure we never get comfortable pushing it aside, for there were many lives lost and the damage done to our country

As I said the other day , I feel helpless when it comes to what to do or say for those who hurt for their pretty girl today.  Thankfully, I pray for them a lot, and that’s the best thing I can do. But tonight, after a day of plumbing issues ending in big money leaving my bank account and a variety of other concerns that seemed *purposeful* in attempting to steal my focus on what this day means to me, I felt that I wanted to bring it back around, in the quiet before bed, to remember this little beauty and celebrate some of her favorite things.  The best way I am able to do that is through playing with my digiscrap kits and such, frivolous as it may seem.  So I spent a little time tonight putting together a little siggy for Miss Jalayne Grace , the hee-hee loving princess.  She was such a pretty little bug, full of energy and loved by SO many.  Never forgotten. Always missed. You are forever loved, little Laynee.

It’s been a very tiring 5 days for me. I’ve worked far too much for my liking. I’ve been more rushed and tense than I’d prefer.  I have had some wonderful moments within those days, don’t misunderstand.  But I’m exhausted. And tonight, after my girls collapsed into their beds, having been transferred in from their car seats where they fell asleep, I had the opportunity to go to bed. Early. Before 9 pm.  But I couldn’t.  I feel like I need to communicate something intangible. I have this urge to say something. And yet all words are empty and unimportant.  I’ve been sitting here with my laptop open, on, and my hands on the keyboard for almost an hour. And yet the words just won’t form any cohesive thoughts worth sharing. It’s not about my busy weekend. It’s not about my world at all.  I’m left sitting here in bed, uncomfortable. Wanting to speak words of comfort and having none.  I so desperately want to share just the right note of encouragement, or the perfectly fitting verse of

There are a lot of things that I want to remember someday down the line, when my girls are too big for baths, too cool for cuddles, and too chic to chat with me about everything that’s in their little heads.  One of those simple things is the fun they have in the bath together.  They are all about whatever they can do together. Alike. With each other.  And I don’t want to forget that. I don’t want them to forget it either.  So pictures like this will definitely be brought out to remind them of their camaraderie when they are sick to death of each other in about 8 years.  I can’t wait to see their eyes roll when these pictures show up at just the right moment. 

Denmark has stated openly that their goal is to be a society without Down syndrome. Here's the whole article if you are so brave. That statement in itself is disturbing. My friend, Michelle, at Big Blueberry Eyes (one of the first blogs I found and followed after Braska was born) posted some comments about this choice, and I'll admit, it's a very difficult post to read. It makes me mad. It makes me a little ill if I think about it too long. But I feel like it's important to realize to what extent the philosophies of disabilities in some countries have twisted. So check it out, knowing it won't give you warm fuzzies, but with the intent of knowing where "the others" stand, and how far they are willing to go. Then tell someone... be sure that those who might be around you and think like this out of ignorance have the opportunity to learn the truth about what life with DS means. And My Heart Cries Lord bless our efforts to share with the w

KiKi has a bed. It is about 3 inches from this chair. And yet she often will hop between them from night to night. Sometimes she changes locations during the night. Tonight I got home from work and then cleaned the carpet in a couple of rooms. It's a very small house, and that is a loud machine. They were in bed already, but awake, and I figured the girls would quickly just fall asleep with the added, though loud, noise. (They have a loud fan in their room already. I have white noise issues. Must have for sleep.) I went to check on the girls and they were out. Braska in her bed where I left her and KiKi in the chair with Purple, her pillow pet. I suppose sleeping is better than awake, even if its not in the bed. Do your kids sleep in places other than their beds at night??