A long time ago I saw a really funny comedian do a bit about a woman out on a date who needed to fart. This woman was wearing pantyhose which allowed her to fart discretely and keep her secret inside the hose so her date wouldn't suspect her flatulence. When she got home she was able to let the trapped air out of her hose and blow all around her house. This. Is. Mackenzie. I've figured it out. She farts in her pantyhose.
Most people who know Mackenzie, don't even know Mackenzie. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me what is "wrong" with Mackenzie because she seems so normal, I would be a rich woman. We just got her report card and it shows her progressing nicely, even mastering areas that are so challenging for her here at home. Don't get me wrong here, I'm so happy to know that she is able to go out in the world and be successful. I am happy to know that she feels safe to cut loose when she gets home. I know that is normal for most kids. It just makes it so hard for us to get help for her because no one can tell that she needs help!
For those of you who don't know Mack...here is a very brief description of the last 3 years. Born premature with brain injuries affecting her motor cortex. "Diagnosed" with Cerebral Palsy due to gross motor delays. Diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder very early in life based on oral aversions, self regulation problems, and self injurious behaviors. The outside of her is incredibly perfect and beautiful. The inside of her is tumultuous. She is full of volcanic energy. In the past she has gone through oral issues that caused her to stop eating, drinking, and going to the bathroom. She has pulled out almost all of the hair on the sides of her head. At one point she was hitting her head 20+ times a day on walls, sidewalks, doors, you name it. She had wear a helmet to protect her because she would drop from standing onto asphalt because she felt out of control. Very hard for a mama to watch.
As a teacher, I hear parents say all the time that they are so glad their child behaves at school because they are so rotten at home. I have said the same thing about Fiona. With Mack, I feel so opposite. I wish this girl would rock her teacher's world a couple times so her school would know what we were dealing with and would be able to help us begin to help her. So far...it hasn't happened. That's because she farts in her pantyhose all day and comes home to share the wind with us. I can weather the storm but it gets really tiring. Our neighbor told me the other day that I sure have my hands full with Mackenzie. Ordinarily a parent would take offense to such a comment. I felt validated.
In 1999, Brian and I bravely wandered the aisles of both Target and Crate and Barrel making lists of all the dreamy things we wanted for our house. We were actually very practical about what we registered for. We got settings for 8 of the white Bistro dishes, cow milk glasses, Bosco Ware bowls, and a myriad of other practical and really great things. Many of which are still very much alive after almost 13 years of marriage.
You're wondering where I am going with this right? The weekend I just survived got me thinking about all the wonderful things we have and how they came to live with us. The weekend of The Stomach Flu. We enlisted the help of many of the things we got as wedding presents as well as all of the carefully made baby blankets we had neatly folded in a cupboard waiting to be needed again. All are now happily recovering from a long weekend of helping us nurse our babies back to health.
The stainless steel bowl set we got once held things like Brian's famous Caesar Salad, fish resting in a marinade bath, the occasional tie dye attempt, and always pancake batter. This weekend, vomit. The white towels we used to hang on our super cute hooks looking fresh and modern just waiting to dry us after a shower. This weekend, vomit. The high count sheets we used to lie in and chat while we listened to the coffee making its final brew. This weekend, vomit. The beautiful quilt made by Brian's mom Cathie that makes me long to visit Italy every time I use it. This weekend, vomit. The quilt my mom gave to Fiona with signatures of all of the grandparents. This weekend, vomit.
Thirteen years ago (six for the baby stuff) I never knew that I would find a new appreciation for all of the wonderful gifts we received. Thank you to all of you who once bought us a wedding gift or made us a beautiful baby quilt. We have used them for all the things you hoped we would. Now we are using them for barf and are so thankful.
Always keep a potty in your car.
Be aware that your boobs will never be the same. Buy expensive bras.
Consistency is what will save you. Say it. Mean it. Every time.
Date night is a myth. Sitting together in the mess at 9:00pm is sometimes enough.
Eating cold food while standing is just how it is.
Follow your instincts. You'll find you're often right.
Grocery shopping is much easier if you go alone. Buy chocolate and eat it in the car.
Holy Shit will be her first words if you're not careful.
Invest time in training your child to sleep independently. Best thing I've ever done.
Jokes told by 5 year olds are hilarious...but only to them.
Keep a journal for your kids.
Lock the bathroom door if you want to avoid questions.
Make pancakes and bacon for dinner often.
Nap time is sacred. Attack if someone wakes your child. Husband included.
Own a plunger, a carpet cleaning machine, and a wet/dry shop vac.
Praying for bed time is not a sin.
Quiet can be dangerous.
Routines will save you.
Shots are less scary if you know ice cream follows every time.
Toilet paper is less likely to be pulled all over the bathroom if you hang it backwards.
Underwear worn backwards are still underwear. If it doesn't bug them, don't worry.
Vegetables aren't so bad with ranch dressing.
Wipes aren't only for babies.
X-Rays will happen. Probably more frequently if you have a boy.
Yes can be changed to no at any time. You're the parent. Say that out loud.
Ziploc bags aren't just for frozen steak anymore.
I remember a friend telling me that during childbirth there would be a moment when you felt like you just couldn't take it anymore...right when it was almost over. It was true. During childbirth. Child rearing not so much. I told myself today a few times that I can't do this. During childbirth I remember yelling the same thing between contractions. Brian kept saying, "You are doing this." So...today when I tried to convince myself that I can't do this, I also reminded myself that I AM doing this.
I posted on Facebook the other day that Mackenzie had a day with no time-outs. I didn't even realize it until the evening. Don't get me wrong, I knew the day was different- smoother...but I never realized she hadn't sat in her corner. Everything I do with Mackenzie is with sensory needs in mind. I pack her backpack a little heavy, I ask her to carry the groceries into the house, I allow her to run when others have to walk. I can't do a load of laundry without keeping my eye on the timer so she can sit for the entire 9 minute spin cycle and vibrate her sensory bones. I can't let her climb down from the stool. I have to grab her hands and hang her there for a few seconds in hopes that I might fill a tiny sensory pocket that may have needed a refill. Perhaps on her one good day this week I got all her pockets full.
I have come to realization that I just have my hands full. Over flowing. To the brim. They are full of excitement, energy, curiosity, beauty, intelligence, creativity, and love. I get nuzzles in the midst of the craziness and the brief smell of my girls' hair reminds me that I actually can do this. I want to do this. I just need to step back breathe every so often.
