Blasts of Motivation

I'm a pretty lazy laid-back person, most days. I mean, emotionally, I can get riled up with the best of them, but things that require actual physical effort sometimes get put on the back burner. You know, the usual stuff like...well, I'm not gonna say after all because BD would just use this post as evidence and then I wouldn't have a leg to stand on in the Court of Smith-Smith, so...

Sometimes, though, sometimes I just get motivated.

For example, BD looked in the cabinet under my bathroom sink the other day and KAPLOW! Organized. He shockingly asked how that happened. I'm sure he would have believed that little elves came in the night and did it much easier than her did when I told him what really happened.

So, with that in mind, lemme tell you what I've done with my latest burst.

I was at a seminar-group therapy type session thingee last weekend called "From Heartache to Hope." It was interesting. There were only about six of us there and it was only two hours and I don't know that most of us knew what to expect, but it did result in some interesting conversations. At one point, one of my fellow mamas mentioned that what I said about the mood change after Playette was born (woeful and non-congratulatory, at best) was helpful to her as a Labor and Delivery nurse. She encouraged me to contact our community hospital and offer myself for outreach opportunities.

That I did. I don't know why I hadn't done so earlier.

So I called that hospital along with the 4 others within an hour of our house.

People do this all the time. Raise awareness of Ds amongst medical professionals. Serve as resources for families dealing with a new diagnosis.

Why not me? (Lord knows I've spent enough time saying "Why me?" Time for a change, maybe?)

At the forefront of my mind is the Sanchez family's "I Did It" campaign. Playette wears her shirt proudly. And every time she does, I am reminded that somewhere someone is reading a copy of Gifts 2 and learning the positive impact that people with Ds can have on the lives of the people that love them (just like any other family member or friend, really, but people seem to need to be informed/reminded of that when it comes to Ds...no judgment, I was there once).

BTW, the Sanchez family is adopting another child with Ds, Sofia, from Eastern Europe. Have you heard? There's a big fundraiser coming up. Learn more here.

You know, this outreach thing isn't easy. People aren't exactly opening the door to me, telling me to come on in. They're skeptical. They're not returning phone calls. They think I'm calling asking them for help instead of me offering it to them. It's frustrating to say the least.

But I'll keep pressing.

Somewhere there's a mama out there. She's scared of what will happen when her baby is born.

Or perhaps she's like I was and she's going to be stricken with grief when her baby is born. She might just need someone to listen to her cry like I did.

She may be lacking in support from family and friends and need reassurance that it's going to be ok from someone who has walked that path.

Maybe she'll want to see a child with Ds and meeting Playette will make her smile.

And then she might feel less sad if she had a doctor who was a little more sensitive in delivering a diagnosis of Ds.

I don't know what she'll need. I don't know what will help.

But the thought that one person has the opportunity to make a difference will keep me going.

Hotline

Timothy Schriver must have a dedicated red phone for this stuff by now.

Good grief.

You know, I try to refrain from political conversations on this blog for a few reasons. One is because the division of the Ds community does none of us any good. I've seen good people get hurt by daring to disagree with a portion of their readers. [Why attack someone for that?] Also, one of the few lessons I retain from my upbringing is that I shouldn't talk about politics in mixed company (along with salary and a couple of other things). People have reasons for believing what they believe and I respect that.

I'm saying though.

I posted about this.

And about this.

So it's only fair that I'm posting about this.

Why aren't her supporters expressing their disappointment? I know that the Ds community is fraught with people that connect with her via her son Trig, who happens to have Ds, and flat-out adore her, but I haven't seen one post today that says, "Wow, she really let us down here," or even a simple "I don't agree."

I wouldn't expect you to stop loving her, if that's the way you swing, but a little acknowledgement might go a long way. It would with me at least.

So I'll say it.

I'm appalled. Disappointed just doesn't cut it.

We're in the midst of a movement. People are listening. People are watching. No one, not even a person who's supposed to be on your team (whether that means the same political party or the same diagnosis), is supposed to get a pass for doing or saying something that contradicts the forward progress of the collective.

This is about our children. And the way that everyone treats them.

It's not ok.

Or am I missing something?

I mean, this was satire, too, right?

Never Go Full Retard - Tropic Thunder- Watch more Videos at Vodpod.

Chills

This clip keeps giving them to me.

I watch these shows. These movies. And it hurts every time I hear it.

Lessons from Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle

I'm calling Playette by another name today because I'm happy to finally be starting to pinpoint what her language sounds like so that I can describe it to others.

Piggle Wiggle - she says something that sounds like this a lot; I believe it to be the basis of her dialect.

Heavy D - most specifically from "We Got Our Own Thang"
(starting at about 0:15 in - I dare you not to dance in your chair, teens of the 90s)

So, MPW is sick today. As she was yesterday.

She has taught me, naive first-time mom that I am, that I was, in fact, not going to avoid being vomited on ever, no matter how much I wished that to be true.

Orange. Pedialyte. Everywhere.

She was so sad yesterday. Just defeated looking. Too tired to raise her head. Too drained to stay awake. Too preoccupied with her indescribable-to-us pains to smile.

Today is slightly better. She's smashing Cheerios into the cushions of her chair. She's laughing at times. She's even giving us a little MPW-ese, followed by some buh-diddly-dees.

And she has also found the time and strength to come up with a new game:
















Repeat, ad nauseum. Apparently, it is quite The Fun.

Unfortunately, the two of us have had to bow out of the Super Bowl Party of the Decade, hosted by DJ Pauly D and Brett Michaels.

But BD is there, representing for us all with a box of pink Franzia in hand. That's my dawg.

Go Saints!

Get Thee to a Winery

I like Hamlet. Don't hate.

So, BD had a birthday recently. The big 3-3. I know he wasn't expecting a big to-do, which made it that much more fun to surprise him.

A group of friends agreed to participate in a wine trolley ride with us. I'd long heard how fun these tours were, and BD is a big wine lover, so it seemed the perfect time to give it a try.

BD became suspicious when the babysitter showed up at 10 am on a Sunday. Not exactly her typical shift. Then, one of his friends showed up. Hm. Not exactly his typical shift either. We headed downtown and then I think it all started to click. It was time to partay!

At our first of five winery stops, BD proved what a dedicated student of the liq he is.




I was busy taking pictures of the pretty wine bottles. See that spittoon there? I thought it was for decorative purposes only. So I didn't use it. I really enjoyed Ventana vineyards. Way more than I needed to. Lesson learned.



I can never get a serious pic out of him, but I like this one.


Our ride. There is nothing better than being driven around, lemme tell ya. First thing I would do if I hit it big? Hire a driver. Trolley optional.



We had a great lunch in the garden of one of our next stops. I had to take a picture of Dwayne's lunch. Because people calling BD by the wrong name is funny to me.


I wanted to buy this shirt for about 15 people, but since I'm not wealthy I took a pic to share instead.


Group shot before heading home. By this time, I was feeling quite sassy saucy.


BD thought we were all done when the tour was over, but nope. We had all the trolley-riding folks, plus some, over for a pizza and brew themed extravaganza. I'm not much for party planning, but this seemed to work just fine for my ability level. I even got him a cake!


And I took a picture of it. Because people calling BD by the wrong name is funny to me.

And now...more on OJT

A few weeks ago, I talked about doing hair.

Exciting, I know.

I could probably come up with something to say about wrangling Playette's hair every week.

I don't though. And I won't. Promise.

But I came across these photos that were taken about two months ago. I was so proud of my little creation that I had to document it. (We were folding clothes at the time.)

So, these pics are for the people I promised to show these to and then forgot.

Tra-la!

More on "Blame It"

Last spring, I posted about Jamie Foxx and his sister, Diondra.

Well, they're in the news again. This time, for the Grammy Awards, which aired last night.

So, in case you haven't seen it, here's the performance (Diondra comes out and dances at the end, hard to see if you don't keep your eyes peeled at around 3:30 and after).

[sidenote for the hip hop heads: I cracked up at all the shots of Jay-Z during the autotune-filled performance. Like they were waiting for him to look mad and storm out of the room or something. C'mon now. He's off that.]

And here's a red carpet interview where she fawns over Nick Cannon. I got a kick out of that. Why? Well, it just seems like such an adult crush. And she articulated it so well, while also being sure to graciously congratulate him on his marriage to Mariah Carey.