The Pool

I stare at my ID card on the counter. The nice community centre cashier lady has not taken it to swipe another swim credit from my account. She has swiped my daughter's card and given us both wristbands the solid colour of the day indicating a child's entrance fee. I know from experience, I should be getting a patterned band. 

"Are you going to take my card?" I ask toward her back as she has moved on to another task. She turns surprised. "Oh no, you get in free as her attendant." For a split second, I don't know what she is talking about. Then I respond, "But I am her Mom and I'm just taking my daughter swimming like anyone else would at this age. She's only four." "Well," she instructs almost sternly but protectively too, "You shouldn't ever have to pay as the attendant of someone with a disability whether you're her Mom or not. You can alway get in free with her." 

So here it is. I am one of them. When my little duck 'A' was born, my main exposure to people with disabilities was from seeing them at community centres and pools with their attendants, hired or sometimes aging mothers whose little ducks would never leave the nest. My fearful mind immediately cast me into that role, my own body weakened from years of grief and neglect, supporting a child who would never swim or run or be free of needing me. 

I laugh. That fearful vision seems as far away from reality now as it was looming and oppressive then. My somewhat delayed but assertive pre-schooler is tugging me toward the change rooms eager to get on with her water adventure. I too, look forward to the joy of her clinging to me with squeals of delight as she navigates her favourite place. I don't have time to argue with this lady about whether I deserve a discount or not. I thank her and move on.

The next week, the same lady charged me full price. I didn't argue then either. The boss of me was tugging again, pulling us both forward into a future of moments of delight and sometimes uncertainty but always full of love.

I'm 3!

[Mom's editorial]

A sunny day in the park, a trip to casa gelato, a long nap, pizza, cake, homemade frozen yogurt, presents topped by a bath. And although I'm sad the teachers had to go on strike, I am very glad my big bro was here for all the fun.

Happy Birthday to me!

[A's real thoughts]

Took mom forever to get me out of the crib today. Does she not know what today is? Then she lets me watch 'signing time' which is great but I was starving. Nice oatmeal but someone said ice cream and that sort of wrecked everything else. We drive around forever and play in a park we've never been to or maybe it was just that we never see the sun so it all looked different. I was quite insulted when I was plunked in the stroller. Seriously, I can walk, except when I can't. There was nowhere to pee so I had to resort to the cloth diaper and of course when mom tried to put me on a baby change table, I lost it. I can stand thank you. Finally we get to this ice cream place and the day starts to deliver.....zzzzzzzzzzzzz

Here we are again

Three years ago today, I was in the waiting place. Or rather, I was in the rush of busyness to prepare for being in the waiting place. I had just wrapped up at work. I had filed my paperwork. I was about to clear some space and get the supplies. I was sure I had at least a week to relax and contemplate the huge change coming into our family. That evening brought with it the first of many surprises.

• I started labour 10 days early
• I interviewed a doula in the morning and asked her if she was busy that day
• I gave birth at home (plan B)
• The birth was a mere 6 hours of serious labour, a pittance compared to my first experience.
• It was a girl
• It was a little girl who was A, not S as we were expecting
• Our precious little girl came with an extra chromosome and I could see it right away

I struggled against the disappointment but I was crushed. Our son bonded instantly and completely with his little sister. Our community rallied around us with food and visits and extra hands while we tackled the 6 week long job of teaching her to nurse.

• She did it. She learned to take in milk.
• She smiled, she cooed, she drew us into her magic
• She learned to sit
• She learned to scoot around on her bum
• She learned to crawl
• She learned to stand
• She learned to make the sad face with the bottom lip that stops everyone in their tracks to help her
• She learned to command all of us and bend us to her will
• She has just taken her first steps, said her first two word sentences and read her first words all in the last month or two

The surprises keep coming and I hope they never stop. Happy Birthday little boss of me.

Look who is 6!

Six years ago around this time, I was in my hospital recovery room staring at my newborn son with awe and wonder. Like so many things about him, his birth was long and dramatic lasting from Thursday evening to Sunday afternoon. We had tried for a homebirth in our apartment. Things did not progress and we went to the hospital for pain relief and contraction enhancing drugs. That ride to the hospital in big T's '72 Chevy Nova is burned painfully into my memory. So, another 24 hours and T appeared in his strange looking newborn little self. He was very alert, very awake and always very hungry. He changed everything. He birthed a mother. Thanks T for coming to us and being the magic that you are.

As we celebrate this important birthday (all weekend) we are also anxiously watching the news of disaster in Japan. We are praying for the people there and here as we read about the radioactive plume possibly headed our way. I remember long ago reading (when I still had time to read) about the Manhattan Project and how at least one of the participants (maybe Feynman?) realized that with the first 'successful' fission, the world had changed forever. It really feels like the genie is out of the bottle. What kind of world will it be for you and your generation? I feel so helpless to prepare you for this. All I can do is protect you as best I can and try to help you use your powers for good.

Look who is 2!

Two years ago I looked into the face of my newborn little girl and my heart sank. I could see right away that she had Down Syndrome. It was a shock. I had not tested and although I was 41 and I knew the risks, I really didn't think it would happen to me. So began, the craziest few months of my life. Teaching her to nurse took up the first 6 weeks and when we came out on the other side of that mountain pass, there were a few more valleys to cross. I've said before somewhere on this blog that when the physical labour stopped, the labour of my heart began. It's true. There was pain in that opening of the heart but the labour is over and we are only beginning to discover the depths of the love that has been birthed.

So thank you little girl. Thank you for cracking me wide open. Thank you for pulling out more of me than I thought was in there. Thank you for coming to stay. We love you so much, Happy Birthday

Hot Cereal

The other day, A was playing on my bed after our morning nurse and she looked up at me and signed 'eat'. This is not too unusual as she often hurries me along through my tired, slow morning movements. Then she signed 'cereal' and then 'hot'. Her signs are of course imprecise so I did a double take before I realized that she was asking for hot cereal, NOW!

Of course, she got her hot cereal with grated apple and raisins as fast as possible. I'm so proud.

A Mail Day is a Good Day

Here is little A admiring her Valentine card from Auntie M. She is quite pleased as you can see.

She is doing well. Her gross motor development is her weakest area overall but we have refocused our efforts to include crawling again and I think it's helping. We're using the stairs. She can't sit back and start scooting and it's easy to incorporate a few times per day. The crawling focus was prompted by a book I picked up and some families I ran into who use the neurodevelopment approach. There are at least two camps on this topic. One says although crawling is important, any movement is progress. The other says that if they replace crawling with scooting or some other creative method of getting around, there will be neurological damage. I know there are lots of 'typical' kids who don't crawl but perhaps for kids with an extra chromosome, it makes more difference. I don't know. I did spend a little time trying to find out but it seems that there is no proof either way. So! we are trying more crawling because it's not going to hurt. If you have been through this debate and have any comments, I'd love to hear from you.

In the speech department, we are having lots of fun. We recently started with a speech therapist and she had us do an inventory of A's language. She has about 15 spoken words and 50 words including signed words. This means, I'm the bottle neck. If I had 100 signs I'm sure she would too, so I'm trying to step it up. We're using the signing time series and it's perfect. Both kids like it and it's not too annoying as far as kid stuff goes.

Sleep is better although I hesitate to get too excited because things are always changing. There are teeth coming and I know that is part of the issue but we also get some long stretches. She is sleeping in the play yard porta-crib in our room and we've turned up the heat at night. We also night weaned and moved the morning nursing time to another room to distinguish when the day really starts. One or more of those changes is helping and although I'm curious which was the key, I'm not willing to experiment to find out.

We are spending more time at playgroups lately. There is one nearby with a nice structure including free time, snack time, book time and singing time. She eats things there that she will not try at home and she loves the whole scene there. It's good for me too.

Oh yeah, I cut the tiniest lock of hair from her bangs this week. It was in her eyes all the time. I always feel a pang cutting hair. Especially the first one.