Confessions from a Thirty Something Momma

I took a deep breath and went head first underwater. I launched myself towards the bottom of the pool and started moving towards the other side. With my arms and legs I willed my body to move as quickly as possible, all the while maintaining my held breath. Finally, as I opened my eyes and saw the bleary makings of the opposite end of the pool, I swam towards the surface and took a deep breath of fresh air once I reached it. As I stood having successfully reached the other side, I thought about how long it had been since I had swam. Despite my efforts to swim fast and hard, I had forgotten about the weight and resistance of the water. I stood with arms and legs tired from my short sprint. I've come to recognize that depression often feels like that same experience. I will body, mind, and heart to move through the motions of my life with familiar strokes. Instead of encountering ease, I find resistance that leads to a weariness I hadn't bargained for. In my younger

I'm beginning to think there is a conspiracy to keep me from sleeping.  I'll review my last 3 hours and you can be the judge: 11.30 pm- Crawl into bed proud that I turned it before midnight.  Toss and turn for some time 12.40 am- wake up to my back pressed against something. 2 year old crawled in bed with us while we were sleeping. Toss and turn because 2 year old tosses and turns 1.15 am - ask hubby to return 2 year back to his own bed. Toss and turn to fall back asleep. 1.30 am - 7 mo old starts rousing on baby monitor 1.35 am- 7 mo old starts crying. Hubby goes to get baby  1.40 am- both children in tow- hubby found 2 yr old awake and in baby's crib, with baby! 1.45 am- prepare and give baby bottle 2 am- burp baby- put baby down for sleep 2.05 am- crawl into bed 2.06 am- 2 yr old tosses and turns bumping into me several times 2.10 am - baby starts making noises in bassinet 2.14 am - pat baby's back 2.16 am - crawl into bed  2.17 - get pushed around by tossing and tur

I wanted to entitle this blog: "When the Right Decision is the Hard Decision"  But - I don't like have long titles so I just entitled it Changes. I resigned from a position at my [new] job this weekend. It's time for me to stay home to care for my children and household.  I know its the right decision. In fact, it's the decision I want. The decision I have been coming to for probably some time, but was too scared to face. If you're like me, fear can or has been the rudder that directs choices and decisions. I have been working on that not being the case for some time. But my default emotion when doing something new, that I or others are unsure of, is fear. I am afraid of not being in control. I am afraid of what others think of me. I am afraid of disappointing others and letting them down. I am afraid of failing gloriously, miserably, or at all. Most of all I am afraid to admit that I can't do everything. That my capacities are limited and that I c

"Do you honestly expect me to pay attention to every word you say?," my sister Arlene asked as she looked at me incredulously. I had just complained or whined that she hadn't listened or remembered something I had previously told her. Before you jump to conclusions and think she was mean, the truth is she deserves compassion. All my family members do. Poor things. I talk ALOT. I talked even  more when I was growing up. Always the chatter box. Always running my mouth. Regularly dominating conversations. That was me. And my poor family had no escape, especially not my older sister. We are 13 months apart, so she had been listening to me speak daily  from the day I developed my language skills until we no longer lived together (which was when I was 23!) Her question was as honest as they come. I couldn't blame her a bit and saw her point of view. Needless to say, when she told me some weeks back that she loved to read my blogs, I was so honored. Here was someone

For many people, thoughts of a phoenix evoke images of red, gold, and fire. For me, it evokes images of my sister, Johanna. Let me explain. Niki Fosters explains on www.wisegeek.com: “The phoenix is a legendary bird based in Egyptian   mythology   that burns itself at the end of its life, followed by a new bird rising from the ashes. It is also extremely long-lived and able to heal itself spontaneously. The bird is a symbol of immortality, resurrection, and regeneration. In ancient times, it was incorporated into the mythologies of many cultures, and in the medieval period, it became a symbol of Christ.”  In the Marvel Comic series, X-Men, we become acquainted with the fictional character of Jean Grey, a mutant with superpowers whose alias is “Phoenix.” Wikepedia describes Jean’s character formation as follows: “Under the authorship of   Chris Claremont   and the artwork of first   Dave Cockrum   and then   John Byrne   in the late 1970s, Jean Grey underwent a significant tran

I've been wanting to share a "Conversations about Down syndrome 101" on my Facebook for some time. So I decided it was time to contain it in a blog. Most of you know if you are a regular reader of my blog, that words are important to me. I seek to communicate clearly: to be heard and understand for what I am actually saying and meaning. I also seek to understand what someone else is actually saying and meaning, beyond their choice of words. This particular blog may make some people uncomfortable. You my read the following and say, " Um.... I said that - but I didn't mean it that way !"....   or " Why didn't you tell me that's how you felt about what I said ?" Please take note this is not a blog to address any specific conversation with any specific person. Before Alvaro I didn't know many individuals with Down syndrome (DS). In fact, I've met only one person and encountered him on less than a handful of occasions.

To the woman staring in the mirror looking back at me: I know you stand there  looking and  wondering if what you think and  feel reflect what is true. I've known you many years. All my life in fact. I remember you at age 12. You'd  stare and ask if you'd ever be pretty one day. You'd take measure of your awkwardness: your buck teeth, frizzy hair, and glasses, telling yourself you were just an ugly duckling that one day would become a swan. You hoped it would be true. Now you stand facing yourself well over 20 years later. To your disappointment, you don't see a Swan at all. You take stock of your perpetual pony tail,  frazzled nerves, and tired & thickened body... wondering if that Swan will ever be. Oh dear woman in the mirror - let me tell you the truth of what you're failing to see: Where you see fear, I see courage. Despite not knowing how and where this life will lead, you stand up and move forward seeking the purposes of your gif