The good days.

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Since most of my posts lately have been riddled with angst and self torment, I thought I’d just put out there that life in the house of crazy people is good sometimes too.   I don’t know what makes it so right, or so good .. and goodness knows it could still go horribly horribly wrong,  but overall, I am at peace today.    I do spend hours awake in the night wondering about the minutia that gets in the way of fun, but some days even the crazy neighbors, the passive aggressive Facebook posts, the damn dogs and cranky pre-teens can’t get me down.

Last week, we had a day when our morning was  filled with the usual craziness, lunches to be made, dogs to be walked a cranky pre-teen to scold, it was picture day.. OH YEAH, and I had to have my cholesterol checked, so I couldn’t have coffee until after 830!!!   The day was set to go wrong, but somehow, it didn’t.   NONE of my pants fit comfortably, but my hair came out nice, so I was ok.  The nurse doing my blood work, had to poke a couple times, but I was still in and out of the dr’s office in less than 15 minutes.  This meant I had time to drop off the kids and run to MC D’s to get breakfast AND TWO LARGE COFFEES!  🙂

Just in case you don’t know this, if a school secretary  begs for one of your coffees, you don’t ever say no, so I had gave one up, but I still was ok.    My  husband , my darling wonderful husband, brought me another cup of coffee… and lunch!   We had a lovely lunch amidst the clutter of my office.  We chatted about the kids and our plans and spring break.  It was wonderful and so very necessary.   Just to have a neutral place to sit and talk was refreshing.

that was one day last week.. this morning was the day the dogs ate the sandwiches (which of course used the last six slices of bread) .. it was raining and there was an email from a teacher regarding 3’s behavior in class lately.  Oy..  it was still ok.   The sun is coming out and the trees are glowing with beauty (and pollen)  If I can give one piece of advice to young families starting out (or to Kinshippers  dealing with another set of kids to raise, when we thought we were done! ) ..

.. embrace the crazy, laugh at the silly things you have to juggle and smile through the tears.  Hang onto your faith.   There will be years when the it feels like the snows will never stop and winter will last FOREEEEVER!!!!!  But eventually, the sun comes back out and the ground dries up and you move forward.  Maybe not on the path you thought, but on a new path.   A really cool path with people you love and who have been through the long dark winter with you and came out to embrace the sun with you.

Here’s one of my favorite essays a dear professor shared in Grad school… it applies to so many of our lives.   This may not be the place I planned to live, but I kinda like it anyway.



Emily Perl Kingsley.

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this……

When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”

“Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.”

But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around…. and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills….and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy… and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away… because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But… if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things … about Holland.





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