Unplugged.

To kick off summer I unplugged for a few days.  The first few days were intentional.  Look at me world – I can survive without internet!  It’s just me and my kids at home, la-dee-da-dee-da! Only to discover a few days later that our internet had indeed fizzled out.  Ahh!  What now!?

We are still awaiting our new airport, and in the meantime I’ve had to quietly type in the same room as a sleeping William.  You know, so that my computer can be connected directly to the cable.  It’s oh so very 2001. 

Then there is the whole “it’s summer” thing, which I’ve discovered means there is probably going to be little or no time for me to write.  Ahh!

And William is moving!  {And teething!}  Commando style though it looks more like he is sliding/floating across the floor.  No matter, my baby is MOVING!  EVERYWHERE!  And he is FAST!  Ahh!

{He has a good teacher.}

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We last left off with me sharing the truth.  An honest account of a picnic gone awry.  Or really, the way any picnic with a five, three and not yet one-year old would go – not according to plan.  Yet even in the midst of knowing I shouldn’t, I plan and continue to plan.  In a world where I fully realize the big things are not in my control I often wonder if I still cling to the little bits and pieces of life thinking just maybe…

Also, to clarify; I am not easily offended.  I know that for the most part people are good and go out of their way to discover our world with Charlie.  We are so grateful to our amazing family and friends who love our Charlie.  And those simple things – scheduling playdates with Charlie, inviting him to birthday parties and including him just like any other child do not go unnoticed.  There are no words in my mommy heart to express my thanks and gratitude for that.

I also know that at one time or another we all feel like no one else could possibly understand where we are coming from no matter our circumstances.  But as a mother, this reality is mine and mine alone.  No matter how much help I get from Alex, my mom or friends, I am his mother.  Truthfully, this reality sometimes rocks me to the core.

Yet there is beauty in this often bumpy journey.  People are so good.  And while I might occasionally throw up my hands asking “why!?” I would never change a thing.  And so we continue, raising up our little family.  Doing everything we would do extra chromosome or not.  Going on vacation, enjoying a trip to Starbucks, visiting the park, taking swimming lessons and yes, going on picnics.

So thank you; for your words, comments, e-mails and phone calls.  Thank you.

———————————–

And because I want to remember just a sliver of the goodness that was poured out over me last week.

From my brother Jimmy:

there’s been this anecdote floating in my head for a while now, and i’ve always wondered when i would share it with you.  i just read your most recent post and realized that i think now would be a pretty good time.

it was when i was living in paris.  i was walking from ludmilla’s (my boss) to the metro one day after a lunch.  the walk was probably just over a mile long, and it was through this beautiful little neighborhood that had all kinds of patisseries and boulangeries and fromageries on ever corner.  and the streets were full of these typically older, elegant frenchies dressed in tweeds and silks.  not to mention the cafes and the lingering cigarette smoke (which somehow always smells good in europe…); the point is, the walk was a joy, and i always looked forward to it.

one day, at the halfway point between ludmilla’s and the metro, standing at a bus stop was a heart breakingly beautiful woman, probably in her mid- to late-forties, standing forehead-to-forehead with her, what i assumed to be, twenty-something down syndrome son.  and libby, they were laughing and smiling with each other in a way that was so tender, and so perfect.  the bonds between this mother and son were palpable.  they were each others worlds.  i just wish everyone in the world could have heard the way he made her laugh.  any person with a beating heart walking by this duo could only be reduced to a feeling of, “I wish I had that with someone.”  myself included.

but, as i walked by them, my heart filled with the thought, “That’s my sister and Charlie.”

i think about it all the time.

and the best advice our uncle jim ever gave me (and to be honest, the man’s given me some good ones, wittingly or otherwise), was that relationships never get easier as time goes on.  but they do become more fulfilling and worthwhile.

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6 thoughts on “Unplugged.

  1. Oh, seriously? What a beautiful, beautiful picture he painted. I love it!!!

    I have been thinking about unplugging for a while. I’m glad you did it. Makes me think just maybe I could survive for a week or so without this here laptop.

  2. Libby!! Seriously, any time I need a good, healthy cry, all I have to do is to head over to your blog!!!
    The past two days, even though Matthew has been on a business trip and I’ve been here by myself with all three boys, I have truly enjoyed Benjamin. It’s been awhile. But he has been a joy, and so this note from your brother was especially nice to read today.
    Thank you!
    And now I shall send this link to my mother and brother and husband, who will all probably cry, too. :)

  3. Beautiful! And I love the story from Paris. As for your last post about the picnic, I have been having similar experiences lately. I don’t have the joy of having a Ds child, but I have boy/girl twins and an 8 yr old boy. My son of the twin set is very high needs- incredibly, overwhelmingly sweet, but high needs. He has an ear piercing scream to go with it. And he’s all over the place as most 11 mo olds. I used to pride myself on having it all together and these days, I simply don’t! I wouldn’t have it any other way. Children that age are unpredictable,a s you know, and I get a LOT of stares. Not just the ‘twin’ stares, but the “Oh, look, she can’t handle it” or “you poor thing”. So, while I’m not saying I know what it’s like to be in your shoes, I just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone in the ‘looks’. People will make their assumptions no matter what we do.
    Your blog is always wonderful to read! :)

  4. thanks to brother Jimmy for giving me inspiration too today! Hugs to you all, looks like our house, we are all on all 4’s teaching Parker too!

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