October is Down Syndrome Awareness Month, 31 days in which members of the Down syndrome community focus on awareness, advocacy, inclusion and respect for all individuals with Down syndrome. My daughter was diagnosed a few hours after birth. * * * This is Abby. She’s 7. She’s in second grade. A regular second grade class.
Because I see you. I see how tired you are. The type of tired you are feeling is the accumulation of wanting to give your all, 100%, to too many things—work, your children, extracurriculars, homework, housework, yard work, making your marriage work —it catches up to you. And, I see how much you care. I see that you are worried that your tiredness might be negatively impacting your children and your family.
Tonight a neighbor walked by and casually said, “Well now what are you going to do when you have three?” Right. She said it. Stone-faced and with no follow up giggle. My reaction was natural: “Wait, did I ask you? Right, keep walking your dog.” (ok fine, originally the f-word was littered in there). But
Nothing about my life has turned out the way that I had planned. Not my marriage. Or motherhood. Or me. I am learning that this is actually the best part.
Growing up I never thought I would marry or have kids. Not because I didn’t want that life, but I was convinced I would never find someone who loved me for me. I was always told by my peers, family, and strangers ways that I should change. “Lose weight.” “Wax your eyebrows.” “Dress nicer.” The
All of our lists go on and on…. we pick and choose our battles. For example, I have given up on the bandaid stuck to the carpet upstairs. But my microwave is always clean. This is the merry-go-round of motherhood, full of contradictory feelings and experiences.
As women, even when we are not compatible, we should respect one another and their own personal choices for themselves and their families, but a). not everyone has gotten that message yet, and b). even if they do, it means they will do you no mommy harm, but it does not necessarily mean you will be great friends.
It may seem like a small thing. Jumping into a crowded pool. But to me is was huge. All of me exposed. Cellulite and all. For everyone to see. Including the one person there who mattered: my daughter. She was the one that mattered. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize this.
My once tight, tiny body now has stretch marks and loose skin that covers my stomach and hangs where the umbilical hernia once poked through. And, since I am not only a mother— I am also a wife and a woman—naturally, I want to look attractive and sexy on this vacation.
And then it came. “Mommy, I have to go poop.” The dreaded words of any newly potty trained child. Because “I have to go poop” does not simply mean “I have to go poop.” It really means, “I had to go poop twenty minutes ago, so THIS.IS.AN.EMERGENCY.”