Have you ever been in a situation so long that it is difficult for you to keep perspective, where you are constantly focusing on what still needs to be done that you forget about all you have accomplished? That’s where I’ve been finding myself lately. While I know that our life is far from perfect, I have decided to become aware of how far we have come in the past four years. So…
This is from a collection of posts in which I focused on milestones, while looking for the positives and honoring the advancements O has made on his journey as a boy with sensational needs.
There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle. – Albert Einstein
I love the beach. My husband loves the beach! My girls love the beach! So, it only makes sense that O would love the beach, too. Right?
Unfortunately, O showed an extreme dislike for the beach! At 13 months old, during his first real trip to the beach, O didn’t stop screaming. We had taken him before, as an infant, but he spent those trips cradled in someone’s arms, most likely sleeping or being fed, not experiencing the sights, sounds, and textures of the beach.
For a long time after that trip, 2 years to be exact, we avoided the beach. After all, it was not very fun, when two active girls, who love the water and the sand, had to cut their playtime short because their brother wouldn’t stop screaming. But, we missed the beach. …continue reading
He looked at me as his bus pulled away this morning, and before I even got to do it, he blew me a kiss. And I started crying.
I cried because with that kiss, eight years of heartbreak and desperate attempts came rushing back, completely overwhelming me. Eight years of blowing kisses when I said goodbye, only to receive a blank stare back. Eight years of thinking that maybe tomorrow will be the day he does it. Eight years of silently begging him to put his hand to his mouth and blow on it.
Eight years of knowing that a blown kiss means nothing, yet means everything.
When James was a baby, we tried to get him to play peek-a-boo and blow kisses when “that book” said he would be able to do so. He never did. I just thought he was disinterested, but as he grew, I noticed other things he didn’t do. Play patty-cake, blow bubbles, roll down a hill, and jump from the lowest step.
And he wasn’t reacting to the world around him like he should have been. I watched my husband’s face light up every night when he walked in the door, and then immediately become sad, every night, when the excited “Daddy’s home!” rush into his waiting arms never came. …continue reading