Remember.

I smiled watching Abby under the Christmas tree tonight. She was just hanging out underneath, eating homemade chocolate chip cookies and reading stories. Echos of "Run, Run, Run, It's Fun, Fun, Fun" from the Yo Gabba Gabba Guitar and Booner announcing the Jazz game played in the background.

Abby tends to function in crazy mode during the month of December. She moves 100 miles a minute, and wants to see, feel, taste and touch everything around her. Her already bright eyes shine in that pure unadulterated excitement, and each time I see them I get to briefly remember my trips to Candy Cane Lane and Christmas Street. I feel 70 degree Christmas mornings filled with Cabbage Patch dolls and Madonna tapes.

Even though I am tempted to spike her milk with a hefty dose of Benadryl each morning, I am certain there will be a time in her near future when my tears will sting as I think of how she's grown beyond this stage.

A stage she gives me the opportunity to remember again, and I never want to see her lose.

Last night was spent decorating the tree, listening to Christmas music, sipping sparkling cider and eating pumpkin pie. It was spent with the sincere hope that I will give my kids the same types of sparkle filled memories that I have of this time of year. At least enough of them to help compensate for my fair share of non sparkly memories that I am destined to also relay to their adulthood.

Cheers to the beginning of the season.

My Heart is Walking.

I've put off writing about this because my heart is not quite sure if it is ready to expose the depth of emotions these past two weeks have brought me. Words will not begin to do justice to the experience of watching my baby boy take his first long-awaited step away from my arms. Away from my arms and into a world that I am learning to accept he will have to eventually become a part of.

We have waited so long for Deak to get his walker. We were loaned one for the weekend several months ago, and knew we needed to wait until we could get the one that would work best for him. The timing couldn't have been more perfect.

He is finally ready. I couldn't make him ready and I couldn't control the timing. I have had to step back the past few months and attempt to take less ownership of his therapeutic accomplishments. Something that is really, really, really hard for me to do. But, it is something that will hopefully help with my sanity.

I expected tantrums at first. I anticipated screaming, yelling and stiff stubborn legs.

I got laughs, smiles, kissy lips and purposeful movement.

It was his choice this time...not mine.

While walking, Deak's eyes light up and he pushes his cute little lips together in concentration. When he arrives at his destination...he claps for himself and his smile takes up his whole face. He feels proud, autonomous, and pretty freaking cool.

In the past 10 or so days we have had the walker, Deak has learned how to maneuver it more than I anticipated he would learn in a month. Today I took my niece, nephew, Abby and Deak to a Children's Museum and decided to venture out into the "real" world with the walker.

Deak had issues with screaming every time the walker or any of us stopped walking, but it was amazing to watch him try and try and try to get where he wanted to go.

My boy has grown up.

We spent some time in the art area and painted pictures. I knew Deak liked it, but I really understood he liked it, when I watched him figure out how to turn the wheels on his walker, and walk twenty or so feet in about four minutes.

His destination...paint project number two.

He got to choose what to do for one of the first times in his life.

And, I got to watch.

The view was pretty cool.

Abby needs an Agent.

Abby was in her first official play a month ago, and was SUPER excited to be a part of it.

The second grade at her school got an opportunity to spend two weeks with Zinze, an African drummer and artist. At the end of the two weeks they performed with the drums and a play. Only a few children got to participate in the play, and Abby was stoked she was chosen to be one of them. She had to miss several recesses for "practice"...all in preparation for her one line.

"I am the Dove."

She was fabulous, and truly loved every minute of it.

Step aside Hannah Montana.

Easy.

I've sat in lots and lots of waiting rooms.

I could drive to Primary Children's Hospital with my eyes closed, but hope to never try.

I've watched parents head inside those doors and hear the words "Everything went great"... then leave. Hopefully, never returning. That visit being a "one hit wonder."

That is not exactly our story, and I am okay with the fact that it most likely will never be.
But, today...it was.
I got a taste of easy. Boy. It feels good.

My Deak had tubes replaced today. Nothing serious for most. Last time he got he tubes in, he also underwent a bronchoscopy. That procedure caused his lungs to react and fill up with mucus. A simple twenty minute procedure turned into two hours and an overnight hospital stay. Today, we arrived at the hospital at 7:45 and we were home by noon. In fact, Deak and I decided to screw the dietary guidelines and eat fries on the way home to celebrate.

Easy for most, but a miracle for me.

Goodnight Moon.

Goodnight Room.

Goodnight Light and the Red Balloon
(Then you ask, "Where's the red balloon?"- to which Deakon responds "Ah." while pointing at the red balloon with his cute little chubby pointer finger. A feat he has just recently mastered.)

Abby, Blair and I have read this story at least a thousand times over the past few weeks.
It has become a favorite of Deak's and if you have been around him at all lately, he has most likely spun in a circle or rolled towards you, book in hand, in an attempt to get you to read it to him.
And, without fail...he will scream with joy as you open the first page.
It doesn't matter if he has already heard the story twenty times that hour.
It is always a thrilling as it was the first time.
Pure Joy.

I watched Deak as he attempted to read the book to himself a few days ago.

His little hands shook as he tried, over and over and over...to turn each page in the correct order. My heart broke as I watched him throw the book down yelling, "Ahhh!" in frustration.

Because it was hard. Really hard. His fingers are just learning to hold marbles and forks and color...

Nothing is harder than watching your child try and fail. Nothing.

My first instinct was to race over and read the story to him...you know...fix it, that's what I do.

But, this time I didn't. I let him try to fix it himself; and it was beautiful. He persevered and repeated his attempts over and over and over and over. It was so interesting because after each failure, he would spin a few strides to the left and turn the book over again...as if he was sure that it was merely bad positioning of his body that was causing this task to be so difficult.

You should see him read it now.

It's not perfect, and he doesn't say the words aloud, but he is reading it. I watch him point to the pictures in order, and complete the actions we've made as we've read the story together. It is enough to keep your heart full for weeks.

Goodnight Stars.

Goodnight Air.
Goodnight Noises Everywhere.

(All done Deakon...Okay one more time...)

(He caught me this time...)

Comfort.

I've felt confused about certain things lately.
I've allowed that confusion to spill over into certain areas, and cloud emotions and feelings that I know are undeniable.
I go "up and down" on my journey to discovering truth. I think I want to understand more than I can during this life. I've witnessed and experienced lots for a 30 year old, and there are moments when I feel burden and guilt and do not want to have to answer to any more responsibility. I kinda want a break.

But...then I see him.
And her.

I see a light in his eyes that does not come from me.

And I gain strength in a knowledge that they will be mine forever.
And he will be okay.
And... I will be okay.

Things have began to become a little clearer.
I found this talk while visiting a blog of an amazing family.
I don't think I found it by accident.

One of the Many Reasons Why...

...I love Abby.

Last night we went to Iggy's to watch the Monday night Broncos/Steelers game.

(Yes...our family night activity took place at a Sports Bar.)

During the midst of dinner and conversation, I "may have" accidentally called my daughter a "smart ass." In the most loving way...(she is.)

She responded by repeating the phrase and laughing - to which I responded with chastisement for her swearing. (I don't really care about double standards.)

Abby turned to me and Maddi and said, "Well, I better get it all out of me now because I only have until July 'till I'm baptized."

I think I laughed for ten minutes.

At least she properly understands the meaning of repentance.

My Happy List.

This idea is certainly non-original. I don't care though; I am happy today, and I really like lists.

I am happy today because...
1. I have a HEALTHY boy, sixteen hours and counting.
2. I have a nurse and pediatrician who care so deeply about my son that tears streamed as we worried together.
3. I have a husband who was empathetic to my anxiety and helped my mind relax by taking us out to dinner.
4. Hello...the YANKEES! (Second only to the Padres who will always remain my first love.)
5. I have a daughter who thinks it's really funny that she and Deak are dressed in their Yankees gear today...because she knows it will piss off her dad.
6. Mixed CD's that involve Vanessa Hudgens songs. Her songs inevitably lead to my mind wandering ...which leads to Zac Efron. Not a bad thing to think about first thing in the morning.
7. Molten Chocolate, berry and whip creamed covered cake, and ice-cream sundaes. (Coping strategies).
8. First Place Championship trophies for Co-ed Softball.
9. I am wearing shorts and sandals...and it is NOVEMBER!!!
10. Prayer.

Anxiety.

I know anxiety.
My brain can rattle off the symptoms and DSM IV Classification requirements within seconds.
I can treat anxiety.
I can create a list and action plan using various cognitive behavioral and relaxation techniques learned through experience and textbooks.
I understand anxiety.

But, I can't make it go away for me.

The panic attacks are back. I am assuming they were granted re-entry when Deak and Ab got sick this past month. I breathe slowly, think positive thoughts, and try to regain strength...but, at three in the morning...it is a slow process.

Call it coping, or fumbling through denial...I have been surprised with a phrase that I have repeated more than once this past week.

"He could die."

....In reference to Deak, and the impending (because we know it is not "if" but "when") H1N1 virus.
It was strangely cathartic for me to say those words out loud.
I don't know why. I've understood the implications of having a child with "special health needs" and have sat in rooms with professionals who have told me Deakon would die; but, I have never said it.
I said it yesterday in the faculty room with a large group of staff members, and it got quiet really fast. No one knows what to say to that.

It's hard to relate that kind of paranoia to others. Friends and family understand and empathize...all of which are deeply appreciated. But, to convey the depth of fear that I feel when Deak begins to spike a fever is something that I wouldn't wish on my list of enemies (not that I have many...hopefully). I function on "Just Do it" mode and rely on my husband to ration with my complete irrational demands and fears.

I am making the choice to vaccinate Deak for H1N1 today. Something I so vehemently swore about in an earlier post. I just couldn't live anymore with a reality that I did not do something to prevent an illness that my son, in all reality, could die from. That coupled with the stark reality that my Pediatrician called and considered Deak one of his 12 most high risk patients in his practice.
That's just not a list you want your kid on.

I am just sick about it, and am praying for the first time in weeks, just to please keep him safe. I truly know those prayers are not deserved by me, but am hopeful that my son will receive their effects. And...oddly enough, I am extremely grateful for my ability to understand, professionally, the depth of the anxiety I feel. It is comforting to know my irrational thoughts have a scientific and emotional basis and I am not completely crazy.

There was a conversation today in our faculty room about a different mother who has a child with severe special needs. During the midst of this conversation, a reference was made to the child's mother's choice to work a few days a week.
The reaction was killer.
"What? How could she?"
"I knew someone who had a special needs child, and she quit everything and focused on him for 12 years."
"I don't know why she'd do that."
I spoke up.
I had to.
My response was, "How could she not? This woman needs some peace, and a break, and some time to be away."
They were judgemental, but not purposefully cruel. Just ignorant to the pressure and anxiety I am sure this blessed mother deals with 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Most were quiet after that.
Ah...but, ignorance is an entirely different post...saved for another day.

Who knew?

I've always known Deak was smart.

I just didn't know Brad Pitt knew it too.

Deak is a rockstar.

Casting Spells and Doing Dances.

Our Halloween was not unlike many others around, but I am nearly certain we may have had the only orange-suited DJ in a fifty mile radius. Ab was nearly a dead-ringer for Hermione, and I loved that her costume did not involve elaborate make-up. I even joined in the festivities and dressed up this year (as did my mom...), but the pictures make me look like I'm pregnant (and I am NOT) so, they will not be appearing.

We had a little pre-"trick or treating" shindig that involved soup, pumpkin bars and games. I think this picture of Deakon is so funny. I laugh every time I see it...is that cruel?

Cute Cousins.

This little Spiderman is also a Gabba Gabba fan. When he walked into our house he said, "HEY LOOK...It's DJ Lance!!"

Isn't she a beauty?

Ab made it almost three hours gathering treats with her dad. She was excited for her collection of Hershey Bars, and anxious to get rid of her starbursts...a chocolate girl from birth. After the Hershey bars are gone, her two bagged stash will sit in my cupboard until Easter when I will most likely steal it and give it away to my kids at work (and hope the shelf life is long enough to cover their health).

Now...onto Christmas??