Love More, Judge Less
Several months ago, our eleven-year-old suddenly morphed from a little kid into a tweenager. This (literal and figurative) development thrilled Lili and terrified us. Shortly thereafter, we discovered that my clothes and shoes fit her, another milestone which delighted her but struck fear into my heart. Lil now calls everyone “bruh” and does a
It’s November 16th and I’ve got Christmas presents for my kids and my nieces and (soon-to-be nephew) wrapped and packed to go. I am so not that mom!
Ya know, the funny thing about change is that it’s not always welcomed. And let me tell you, it certainly wasn’t welcomed by me. I wasn’t prepared. I wasn’t ready. Everything happened way too fast.
As I am in my final weeks of my pregnancy, I find myself worrying about things that are out of my control. One big worry is the age gap between my daughter and her soon to be sibling.
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.
… I come in, listen a bit about what the problem is, and solve it quickly by giving the toy back to the original handler or helping to rebuild the knocked down project, which solves the problem quickly so we can move on. At best, maybe I am modeling how to solve each problem, but mostly I am just problem solving and they are just watching, waiting to see if whatever injustice their sibling bestowed upon them will be righted.
1987 6:07 pm, the family dinner table… I tried to shrink down in my chair at the dinner table until I disappeared underneath. I knew what was coming. “So, Kelli, what’s the best thing that happened to you today?” My friend looked at me, eyebrows raised, then back at my dad and
I was five and three quarters when my mom gave birth to her fourth child. I can still clearly remember listening to one side of my grandmother’s conversation with family and family friends in which she was regaling them with the tale of my mother’s labor and ultimately the joyous news of Peter Joel’s arrival.
I used to wonder how two siblings who grew up in the same household with the same parents could experience their childhood so differently … until I gave birth to my youngest son, Dominic. Although he joined our family only two and half years after my oldest was born, I was quickly struck by what
Each Thanksgiving, I take inventory of the things I am grateful for. While I am never more or less appreciative, one year to the next, there are times where events like births or deaths act as glowing reminders of all that we are blessed with (and, more soberingly, how quickly those things may be lost). This
