Lots of stuff!
Lots of stuff to report on and pictures to show! First off and most important.... Today is B and I's 3 year anniversary! I have been married to a wonderful, Godly man who works so hard to make sure his family is happy and that we (Audrey and I) know how much we are loved and appreciated. I thank God everyday for bringing him into my life at the RIGHT time. Happy Anniversary sweetie! I love you!!!
A couple of weeks ago we took Audrey swimming for the first time. The pool water was a little too cold, but the hot tub was just right... after we turned the heater on and warmed it up! She loved it. She wasn't thrilled when we took her out.
Today during our all staff meeting at work, my name was drawn and I won a 19 inch HD/LCD flat screen tv! Gotta love that!
That's all I have for right now. Audrey is doing great and so is the rest of the fam! Enjoy the pictures!
Happy Baby!
The T.V. I won! Yeah!!! Love the free stuff!
A couple of weeks ago we took Audrey swimming for the first time. The pool water was a little too cold, but the hot tub was just right... after we turned the heater on and warmed it up! She loved it. She wasn't thrilled when we took her out.
Today during our all staff meeting at work, my name was drawn and I won a 19 inch HD/LCD flat screen tv! Gotta love that!
That's all I have for right now. Audrey is doing great and so is the rest of the fam! Enjoy the pictures!
In the pool... not sure about the swirling of the water.
Happy Baby!
Did not want to get out of her swim suit!
My anniversary flowers that B surprised me with...... Love that man!
The T.V. I won! Yeah!!! Love the free stuff!
Didn't see that coming......
I am a little worried about my little Audrey. I saw a side of her today that makes me nervous about the day B and I expand our little family. No, we are not expanding our family yet!
I did my normal routine this morning with Audrey at daycare. I set her down, watched her steal a toy from a poor defenseless baby who can't crawl yet and watched her get comfy with her surroundings. I see another little girl teeter-walk over to me so I squat down to say hi to her. About 4 seconds after I start talking to this little girl BAM! - she hits the floor. No, she didn't lose her balance, Audrey pushed her over. Apparently Audrey did not like mommy giving another baby some attention and she crawled over and did something about it. I scolded Audrey in a firm tone and told her we didn't push and then held her and the little girl in each crook of my arms. One of the teachers asked me a question, so I look up to answer and BAM! - the little girl is back on the floor. Yes, sadly, Audrey had pushed her again and added grunting noises for good measure.
I am laughing now, but I was horrified when it happened. I just can't believe Audrey did that. I again told Audrey we don't push and set her and the little girl down next to each other to play. I then immediately left. I guess all is well because I haven't heard from the daycare yet asking me to come get my overly-aggressive daughter.
So please, mothers beware: If you bring your children over to my house, you should probably bring them a helmet! Just kidding.... hopefully!
I did my normal routine this morning with Audrey at daycare. I set her down, watched her steal a toy from a poor defenseless baby who can't crawl yet and watched her get comfy with her surroundings. I see another little girl teeter-walk over to me so I squat down to say hi to her. About 4 seconds after I start talking to this little girl BAM! - she hits the floor. No, she didn't lose her balance, Audrey pushed her over. Apparently Audrey did not like mommy giving another baby some attention and she crawled over and did something about it. I scolded Audrey in a firm tone and told her we didn't push and then held her and the little girl in each crook of my arms. One of the teachers asked me a question, so I look up to answer and BAM! - the little girl is back on the floor. Yes, sadly, Audrey had pushed her again and added grunting noises for good measure.
I am laughing now, but I was horrified when it happened. I just can't believe Audrey did that. I again told Audrey we don't push and set her and the little girl down next to each other to play. I then immediately left. I guess all is well because I haven't heard from the daycare yet asking me to come get my overly-aggressive daughter.
So please, mothers beware: If you bring your children over to my house, you should probably bring them a helmet! Just kidding.... hopefully!
Essay from another mom.
My friend Jacolyn posted this and I'm stealing it. As I read it outloud to Joe tonight we both broke down crying. This is both my fear and a realization of our future, sometimes the future is really scary. My fear is shortly subsided by my faith in the Lord. Thankfully He knows what the future holds, and where Ella's disability plays into our family.
Child With a Disability
A powerful essay about parenting a child with a disability by Judith Scott, runner-up of the Life Lessons essay-contest.
by Judith Scott
Our lives, my husband’s and mine, fill with the role of parenting a child with disabilities. We become champions of the cause, joining groups, researching new developments, taking part as vocal advocates for our daughter’s rights. Sometimes this all feels fine and we soar with competence, proud of the manner in which we are managing. Sometimes it chafes, this role for which we did not volunteer, and we are quietly resentful, then guilty. My friends say they don’t know how I do it, my family say they are so proud, and I thrive on the accolades, smile a bit brighter. But behind that smile, a ghost lingers, and the loss of the perfect life I had planned sits heavy. Before Emily, there was a woman who was a teacher and a wife and a friend. Now there is just Emily, and the woman struggles for her bearings, tries to find her footing. I see this woman in the mirror one day and take a long moment to recognize myself. It is time to find the “new normal” that will define my life. I search for the thing that will make the difference. At first, it is running, the simple act of lacing up my Sauconys and hitting the road. Exercise helps and heals. Running segues into racing, and although not an athlete, I train and plan and accomplish modest goals. Local 10Ks and marathons expand my world, and I embrace it with unabashed selfishness. Running makes me brave, and although life with Emily is still turbulent, I have a renewed confidence. Another daughter comes along, followed by a son, born almost exactly 10 years after Emily. We cobble together a family, now not so much defined by the disability within it but by the love despite it. Emily’s siblings speed through typical development without a hitch, gladdening my soul and adding another layer of respect for my firstborn, who struggles so. The pain diminishes, and acceptance comes in. My husband and I always mock the fuss made over graduation celebrations. We wonder when graduating from elementary school became such an occasion. Surely no one put on the ritz for us, back in the day. But times change, as they will, and the day is upon us, as Emily nears completion offifth grade. This milestone day is marked by students all dressed up, speakers who wax nostalgic, and a video montage of the kids’ elementary-school years. I sit in my cushioned seat, only half-cognizant of the speakers’ words. I wonder how Emily is faring backstage with her class, lined up for the processional. Her full-time aide is there to assist her, but still I am anxious, twisting the program into a wad on my lap. Finally it is her turn to cross the stage, and cross it she does, with a nudge and whispered directions. From stem to stern, it is perhaps 100 feet, but Emily’s journey is more than that. The outgoing class stands to recognize her walk; they cheer, holler her name. Who knew that an elementary-school graduation, rife with its tired clichés and tacky streamers, would crystallize all those years of searching for peace? For now, in this moment, on this day, it is finally clear. I was mistaken. The albatross of disability in fact turns out to be a strand of uncultured pearls, each in its varied imperfection a pure and precious gift. No class I have taken, no country I have visited, no book I have read, has taught me more. This child who does not speak, who does not fit in, who is different wherever she goes, is a lesson to me.
Child With a Disability
A powerful essay about parenting a child with a disability by Judith Scott, runner-up of the Life Lessons essay-contest.
by Judith Scott
Our lives, my husband’s and mine, fill with the role of parenting a child with disabilities. We become champions of the cause, joining groups, researching new developments, taking part as vocal advocates for our daughter’s rights. Sometimes this all feels fine and we soar with competence, proud of the manner in which we are managing. Sometimes it chafes, this role for which we did not volunteer, and we are quietly resentful, then guilty. My friends say they don’t know how I do it, my family say they are so proud, and I thrive on the accolades, smile a bit brighter. But behind that smile, a ghost lingers, and the loss of the perfect life I had planned sits heavy. Before Emily, there was a woman who was a teacher and a wife and a friend. Now there is just Emily, and the woman struggles for her bearings, tries to find her footing. I see this woman in the mirror one day and take a long moment to recognize myself. It is time to find the “new normal” that will define my life. I search for the thing that will make the difference. At first, it is running, the simple act of lacing up my Sauconys and hitting the road. Exercise helps and heals. Running segues into racing, and although not an athlete, I train and plan and accomplish modest goals. Local 10Ks and marathons expand my world, and I embrace it with unabashed selfishness. Running makes me brave, and although life with Emily is still turbulent, I have a renewed confidence. Another daughter comes along, followed by a son, born almost exactly 10 years after Emily. We cobble together a family, now not so much defined by the disability within it but by the love despite it. Emily’s siblings speed through typical development without a hitch, gladdening my soul and adding another layer of respect for my firstborn, who struggles so. The pain diminishes, and acceptance comes in. My husband and I always mock the fuss made over graduation celebrations. We wonder when graduating from elementary school became such an occasion. Surely no one put on the ritz for us, back in the day. But times change, as they will, and the day is upon us, as Emily nears completion offifth grade. This milestone day is marked by students all dressed up, speakers who wax nostalgic, and a video montage of the kids’ elementary-school years. I sit in my cushioned seat, only half-cognizant of the speakers’ words. I wonder how Emily is faring backstage with her class, lined up for the processional. Her full-time aide is there to assist her, but still I am anxious, twisting the program into a wad on my lap. Finally it is her turn to cross the stage, and cross it she does, with a nudge and whispered directions. From stem to stern, it is perhaps 100 feet, but Emily’s journey is more than that. The outgoing class stands to recognize her walk; they cheer, holler her name. Who knew that an elementary-school graduation, rife with its tired clichés and tacky streamers, would crystallize all those years of searching for peace? For now, in this moment, on this day, it is finally clear. I was mistaken. The albatross of disability in fact turns out to be a strand of uncultured pearls, each in its varied imperfection a pure and precious gift. No class I have taken, no country I have visited, no book I have read, has taught me more. This child who does not speak, who does not fit in, who is different wherever she goes, is a lesson to me.
Ft. Worth Zoo
We went to the Ft. Worth Zoo with the Thomas', but I didn't take many pictures. Here are a few of the kids and Kristie on the train.
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