Yo soy La Lay

adventures in family, faith, and Down syndrome

Advocacy #8: Sport the colors

There has recently been a lot of hoopla in my world about the “right” way to celebrate Down Syndrome Awareness month.  Do we call attention to the disability?  Do we ignore it and just show our families living “normal” lives?  Do we point out the differences in our children?  Do we show how they are doing all the things that typical children are doing?  Do we do nothing?

All are good and valid.

I do not believe that society has moved far enough toward acceptance of individuals with intellectual and physical disabilities to ignore Down syndrome awareness efforts.  I do not believe that my child should be singled out because of her disability.  I do not believe that we should shy away from any opportunity that would “normalize” the life that we lead.  I do not believe that our life is normal.  Whose life is normal?

I like to wear the colors – I like to have fun with awareness and buy goofy t-shirts and give people a reason to ask questions,  So I like things like these little gems.  And if you like them too, you can find them and buy them and wear them.  Links to their respective “stores” are included:

From The Littlest Warrior, cute shirts like this for the kiddos…

Chromosomally Enhanced tee in blue with yellow ink

And adults…

 Women's Warrior Mama tank in light grey

For jewelry, I love Etsy.  Search “down syndrome” and you’ll find lots of cool stuff like these:

(I have this first one and LOVE it)

Stunning DOWN SYNDROME AWARENESS Bracelet - Custom made jewelry.

Down Syndrome Awareness Necklace Sterling Silver Hand Stamped DOWN RIGHT PERFECT

Royal Blue and Yellow Chevron "Buddy Walk" Team Down Syndrome Awareness Scarf Jersey Knit Infinity Tammy Lynns Creations

You can also shop the stores of some really great groups, like the shop through the NDSS.

Advocacy through fashion… I like it!  🙂

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Mom Kryptonite

I will just put this out there: I find it completely impossible to be an effective parent while wearing skinny jeans.

I don’t know, it might be just me, but hey, God has blessed me with a curvy figure, so those skinny little leg holes don’t have quite enough room to fit my calves (and let’s not even talk about the lack of support for my hips and leftover baby belly).  Sometimes, I get a little brave and throw them on when I’m hanging out with my kids.  It always seems to be on a day when I’m going somewhere in public and inevitably, as soon as I’m dressed, Ellie’s hands suddenly seem to be coated with a thin layer of butter and everything she touches falls to the ground.

Is it really possible to bend over and pick anything up gracefully while wearing skinny jeans??

I share this because when I put on the skinny jeans, it’s like kryptonite for my mom-ness (surely not a word, but yeah.) and while sometimes that’s ok, I feel like being a mom is so ingrained in me right now that losing any of the Mom Super Powers gets me totally off-kilter.

Case in point:  Last weekend, John and I hit the city with some childless friends of ours.  The girls were with my mom and dad over night, we were staying downtown… I decided to rock the skinny jeans.  And high heels.

Please understand that, for my entire life, I’ve been an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of girl.  This extends far beyond the years that I have had babies, but at least before the children, 10 pm didn’t seem like the middle of the night.  On this particular evening, we had dinner reservations at 8:00 (gulp.) and then tickets to a comedy show at 10:30 (people actually go out of their homes that late at night??).  “Have fun!” they said. “You need to get out and live it up!”  they said.

In my fresh, hip, and completely impractical outfit, hot dang, I was invincible.  Don’t get me wrong, I had a blast.  We had great conversation, I got to drink a glass of wine uninterrupted (but only one because Good Lord, I can buy two bottles at Meijer for that price) and have adult conversations… It was fabulous.  So fabulous that we decided to keep the evening going until the wee hours of the morning.  Irresponsible, but fabulous.

One week later, I am still tired.

And those jeans?  They have been banished to the back of my closet, hidden under a pile of more reasonable boot-cuts, until my next temporary lapse in sanity.

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