It’s been difficult for me to sit down and write these days. Not for lack of words, I assure you, but simply for an odd restlessness that had settled into my brain. (Hello, 3 am wake ups, can we be done now?) We’ve had a lot of serious discussion happening in our home about our future and those talks have mostly drained my ability to look at computer screen and write it out.
I realize as I re-read what I just wrote that I sound terribly melancholy. Rest assured, I am not. As a matter of fact, especially this weekend, I have had a rush of peace with the whole idea of our new family adventure. We’re moving forward. It’s all good.
Very quickly After, we knew the time would come that we would have to move. For more reasons than I could possibly go into (not the least of which being the cramped quarters of a home we meant to move out of 3 years ago), it’s time now. And because of the fabulous fact that we bought our house at the second-worst possible time in recent history, our move is going to involve a stint living at home with Momma and Daddy Dub.
I didn’t expect to spend the summer of my 30th birthday moving back in with my mom and dad. Then again, I didn’t expect a lot of the twists and turns that I’ve taken in life, so we’re rolling with it. We don’t necessarily have a timeline for selling our current place, which is nice because there isn’t much of a rush to pack it up. We’ve started, but it’s not all-consuming. True to my usual manner of business, I’ve got a few spreadsheets rolling to organize us. No major task in our family is complete with out some help from Microsoft Excel!!
The kids are thriving lately. Tessa’s annual meeting went really well. The therapists have been really impressed with her progress and I was able to push for a specific goal that I think will target her communication skills. We (very necessarily) have focused a lot on eating in the first year. Now that she’s sitting, beginning to sign (yay!) and beginning to have more feelings and needs, I’m looking forward to working more on communication during our sessions. We will continue to have OT, PT, Speech, and Developmental therapy each one time a week. She’ll start wearing a Spio suit soon, which looks kinda like the clothes you wear for scuba diving if you ask me (though it is sleeveless and shorts, not pants). You should know that we don’t live in a constant state of therapy in our house – that really, truly, most of Tessa’s “therapy” comes from trying to get the toys back that Ellie steals from her.
Just before we had our meeting, I ran across a quote on the National Down Syndrome Society‘s website that was a lightbulb moment for me. On the surface, I knew this, but the words struck me in such a way that I had a productive shift in mindset. It reads:
Ok, duh. I know this. But, for whatever reason, the statement that Tessa is 48% delayed in her locomotion (moving) skills hasn’t phased me simply because of this. Because suddenly, the delay isn’t about me not putting her hip helpers on her for three days in a row. She should wear them, yes, but it’s not about me holding her back, but more about teaching her to do it correctly. Weird how things can strike you like that.
I look forward to telling you about my older child’s awesome development soon… at a time when she isn’t hanging off of my arm crying that I put too much milk in her cup. Ah life… I wouldn’t have it any other way.
A picture of Ellie at hour 10 of an 11-hour Road Trip, just because. She was 13 months at the time of this picture (same age as Tessa today).
Yo soy La Lay 
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