Holding Onto the Wheel

"31 For 21 Challenge". Day Two!

I can remember sitting in my Renaissance Literature Class at Long Beach State many more moons ago than I care to admit too, and listening to my Professor extol the joys of the Wheel of Fate.  She was the Professor everyone wanted, people said she could be failing you, but you loved her anyway.  Two things: I wanted to teach like her, and I wondered where I might be on that wheel.  I felt like I might be on the way up, despite a terrible relationship that might have knocked me back a notch.  Overall... I thought I was headed up.  And I wondered as I sat there, how big is this wheel exactly, and are we talking peaking in a year, ten years...and would I feel a moment of Euphoria that I'd reached the summit, and would it be a crashing taking me back down?  A quick slide into oblivion?  Or would it be a slow, torturous grind as I headed down, hit bottom, and sat there in a flattened state?

I think the rise and fall happens in all those ways.  I mean I kind of know when I'm at the top though it's usually looking back that I can actually see where that Top, Top moment was.  And I really get a pretty good notion of where bottom is, I hit that a lot, but again I usually look back to see where that bottom, bottom moment might have been.  The worst is the moment the wheel stops...and you're on the bottom.

Sometimes I feel like I'm not just watching my wheel but trying to keep track of five of them.  I fool myself into believing that somehow I can slow the wheels or push them faster, whatever will slow the topple from the top or get them there and out of the muck as quickly as possible.  Realistically, I am aware that I have no ability to do this; realistically, I know that they have to learn how to get through the muck on their own; realistically, I am their Mom, and his wife...if I could conjure greatness from thin air I would settle it around them like a halo that goes everywhere with them.

So instead of juggling balls in the air, I'm juggling wheels and every time I think I got this, a wheel turns on me.  And every time I manage to catch the sight of one of my kids moving towards the top, another is starting the fast slide down.  Jubilation dances with worry, exhilaration with sorrow...

My oldest is finding acceptance, joy, the true beauty of belonging to a team, with friends, finding her place at school.  My ten year old is wicked smart and getting opportunities to explore how far her brain can stretch all while surrounded by classmates that admire her brain, her humor and her charm. I feel like they're fast approaching the top, and I want to slow their ascent to keep them there as long as possible.

Meanwhile, Bradley is spinning so fast I can't find him.  He is spending more time at the doctor than ever.  He's taking baby steps towards going to school rather than school coming to him...and yet we're on his fourth ear infection, the second time he was on antibiotics when he got another.  He looks to be refluxing again, which might explain the ear infections.  And a surgical scope on Tuesday will tell us if his wrap is slipping followed by the news that his surgeon probably can't fix it and probably he'll be back to more tube feeding than oral feeds.  We know this is the likely route, and I may not know where Bradley's wheel is right now, but mine feels like it's running me through the mud.

My boy has Down syndrome, and if you want to know the truth...that's the easiest part of him.  I don't know why he has the medical struggles he has...I don't know why we have to see the Gastro Doc every couple weeks, but when we go, we are taking Sydney too.  There must be something genetic going on, cause my two youngest kids struggle.  But Sydney has 46 Chromosomes, her brother 47...so sometimes that extra chromosome is just an extra chromosome and Gastro stuff is just in your DNA.  Sorry kids, I tried to only pass along some wacky cowlicks as the worst I passed to you...apparently, there was more.

If we are to believe those who lived in the Renaissance, spin the wheel, enjoy being at the top but prepare yourself for the way around.  You can hit bottom as quickly as you hit the top, you just have to hold on tight to the wheel and hope it brings you back around quickly because sitting in the mud gets old and cold fast.  For Bradley's sake, let the wheel spin him to the top as quickly as possible, for the girl's: spin them to their tops and then stop spinning; at least for a little while.

Day One - 2014

Hey, hey, hey!!! Guess what day it is!????  If you said Hump Day, I give you big props for your pop culture connections.  If you said October 1st, you get big props for knowing a new month is upon us. If you said a little too much closer to Christmas...well, yes but bah humbug to you ya Grinch!  ;-).

But....if you said it's the start of Down syndrome Awareness Month, I am sending you big, sloppy smooches for being so connected to Bradley.  Now, if you just did a huge eye roll because you know what I am going to say next (totally taking the big smooches back if you did) but October marks the start of the "31 for 21 Challenge" as I Blog everyday in the month of October in an attempt to bring Awareness about Down syndrome, awareness about how amazing my son is, how this family rocks with a little extra something courtesy of my awesome son.  I'm going to update on the puzzle of Bradley's medical life which is not always good news... And I'm going to update on Bradley's life when we sometimes aren't at the hospital; hush, it happens.   And, I'm going to update on my other two kids because my ten year old is still funny as Hell, and my twelve year old is still our passionate and compassionate touchstone.

If you didn't know it yet, I'm hoping that somehow I can bridge the gap between my world and yours so that you might learn that life is going to roll the dice and give you a hand to play; that my hand is a pretty good one.  Wishing away the sadness, wondering why, all those thoughts never go away, they always creep in; learning how to see your life, to really see, is the actual work.  And therein lies the big payoff.  My children are trying to teach me how to see them, how to lead them from here to there successfully.  That's the job I didn't realize I was applying for, and the one that I didn't know how much I would love.  I always tease my husband about how I didn't want kids, he did.  Tease as I will, the truth is simply this: Thank God he was smarter than me on this one, and Thank God I was smart enough to listen.  These kids are a whole lot of work!  Everyday, they are a lot of work.  But everyday I am so Blessed that they're here and mine!

So come with me on another October journey.  We have a lot of ground to cover in this house!  ;-).

Happy October!  Happy Down syndrome Awareness month!   Thank you for stopping by!

Once More Onto the Breach

Bradley decided that he didn't need to nap until late today; of course, the earlier the wake up the next day the later he naps and the later he falls asleep.  It's a given and I should just expect this to happen.  Regardless, I still gave him his bath as usual, but I used the Hibiclens on him as I do before any trip to the hospital.  I am not certain that it helps but I am also not certain it doesn't, so he gets a bath in it so I know I've done all I can.  

Bradley sacked out once, then woke as Eric went to put him down, and then sacked out for the second time and it looks like the final time...not too bad actually, not even ten yet.  This might be a record for him.  It's great for Eric and I, we might get to lie comfortably in bed and pretend to sleep, rather than sit up for hours while we don't pretend at all.  Pretending is not sleeping, but the bed is more comfortable than my rocking chair.  

Tomorrow, we take Bradley to Rady's...the jury is out on whether I like this place or not.  Some times it seems okay, some times, it is just the nightmare that never wakes me up.  Some of the people there are the epitome of those you want taking care of your child and some you just want to strangle.  And I mean that in a less than totally violent way, they're just plain mean and should not work anywhere around kids.  We're meeting a new Pediatric GI tomorrow, she's going to sedate my son and take a look in his Esophagus to see what exactly that pipe is doing.  This is potentially momentous, and yet doesn't feel like it.  If Bradley's issues are strictly motility...well, then...yeah, we don't know either.  Not sure that there is anything that can correct or help that,,,that path looks quite murky from this end right now.  But if Bradley's issues are more in line with the Fundoplication being too tight, well I guess that path is a little clearer, though hilly and full landmines.  The other side?  Yeah, it curves too much, we can't even begin to pretend to see the other side of that one.  

So on an already emotional day, September 11th, rest in peace all our heroes lost that day...I will sit again trying to find my breath and praying.  Sedations do not get easier with practice, waiting does not get easier with practice.  Pretending that you have everything under control?  That is the only part that gets easier.  Staying in control when standing before a doctor and they give you good or bad news, that comes easier.  Joy is held in check because it is held close to your heart and is so fragile any loud celebration could shatter it.  Shock and fear are so huge that you just give them their space and hold it all together until you are alone, then you can let it free.  Bradley is four and a half, strong emotions set him off, it's important to make things easier for him.  It's important not to set him off.  

So Bradley fans, I will keep you updated.  The procedure takes about an hour, then there are the go to sleep and wake up times, then the recovery...always the dreaded recovery.  Always the moment when one of us gets to go to him and one of us has to wait, Rady's sucks because of this.  Dread, the feeling of impotence.   If you pray, please hold Bradley there, if you meditate, whatever your inspiration, please hold Bradley close tomorrow.  And we say thank you!

Good night all, have a safe night, a safer tomorrow.  Remember, we are One Nation Under God!  Be kinder than you need to be, be as humbled as we should always be, and as you remember the Fallen, hold their families in your hearts and prayers.  God Bless!  

Changing the Dance

I used to be one of those people that never knew what she had till it was gone, never fully appreciated the greatness of a moment until the moment was gone forever and I had only the sweet memory.  I didn’t suffer regrets so much as a disappointment that I didn’t see that moment, that instant in time that stamps itself on your heart, even your soul.  That changed for me.  In one moment, all that I thought I knew shattered and was replaced by disbelief and pain.  I experienced a period of time when the one that I loved the most wasn’t sure he loved me.  I knew in that moment that I had changed forever.  Never again would there be looking back at something to see it for what it was…for good or bad, I was seeing the moments for what they were and seeing them right now.  Things worked out in my favor and there has been a tough, but healing road back; and with all that came growth and maturity and a sense of belonging in this place and this time with this person. 

When we lived in Japan, I spent my time there with a knowledge of how great things were.   I knew that we had found our place.  I rarely feel like I belong in some place, except there… in the last two years of our time in Japan I found my place.  I not only belonged with the friends we made on base, but I felt like I even belonged in a great place carved out for me amongst my Japanese friends, I mean students.  The thing is; I knew it.  I felt it.  I knew that we were in a special place and time, that we would never duplicate nor would we ever be able to replicate what we had there in those moments.  To this day, I miss Japan and all the things and people that made that place become our place. 

Oddly enough, Facebook helps.  I can’t connect with the place but I can with the people, and it’s not the same, but it is better than nothing.  Today, I am still quite aware when we are in a moment that is good.  I don’t miss it then look back and wish I had paid more attention.  If I hadn’t learned this before, I would have with Bradley.  Our life with Bradley has brought in people that are amazing.  And with that, life is what it is: others are taken away again.  When you open your heart to love someone, you have to accept that sometimes you will lose them and your heart is going to pour out in pain and sadness.  It just is.  No one lives forever, and some who have supported Bradley in amazing ways are taking our prayers now as they fight their own diseases and cancers and some are winning and others are not.  The sense of being unfair is so profoundly struck in the chords of my heart, it can be paralyzing. 

Living where we do, we’ve had the chance to get to know some of the other family I have, and getting to love them.  I knew I had it good being here.  Learning we were moving here after Japan, I was excited.   I had family here, but I also had a good friend.  What I found was a family willing to love my kids, and me.  While we were in Japan, I knew my place and I knew I was accepted there.  I knew it in my heart and my soul.  It was difficult to leave, it was difficult to feel the sting of rejection even in the midst of the love we had in San Diego, but you get over that with time.  It was difficult to trust my sick son with new doctors, especially when I knew I had great ones.  I’ve been looking for my place ever since.  I wasn’t sure where I belonged.  My life is transient now; one plan today is not what may happen tomorrow.   Planning ahead became a joke and a thing of the past.  Survival replaced planning.   Surviving each day was the goal, IS the goal.  And still, I knew when we were having those moments. 

So as we approach this next big move in about a week, I know what I am leaving behind.  I’m leaving behind a few doctors, well quite a few…but there’s two that would drop everything to return a phone call in order to take care of Bradley.  One that would stay after normal hours if it meant that Bradley needed him too; you don’t get that kind of caring everywhere.  If I find that again I will know that God himself is taking a hand in Bradley’s life and bringing in the ones that are going to love him, not just care for him.  Do I expect this to happen for us again?  No.  Perhaps that is my lack of Faith, or perhaps that is my understanding that we were given the chance to know someone incredibly special and if you get that once in your lifetime, then consider yourself Blessed and don’t be greedy and ungrateful by expecting anything more.  Like I said, sometimes you just know when you are in the midst of the great moments and you hold them close and mourn their loss. 

I think about my Physical Therapist and all the Crew over there.  They kept me together until I had Bradley healthy enough so I could go ahead and fix my shoulder, and then they helped put me back together after the surgery.  I thought I didn’t really have any friends here after my other one had moved away, but then I realized I was wrong about that.  Turns out, I am leaving friends behind.  Somewhere along the way I came to care about these people, and I know how special that is too.  Will I find that again?  No.  Good care?  Yeah, if I need it I am sure I will.  The rest was a gift and I know that.  I hope that our paths cross again down the road and I will know I am lucky and yes, Blessed. 

It turns out leaving my Aunt is ridiculously hard.  It isn’t like I am going to be a half a world away and it isn’t like we saw each other every week.  I mean she has a rather busy life; I just have a kiddo that needs more than others.  But she’s the one that helped me through his first big surgery when I was so scared I could barely breathe, she helped me find the Faith to let me manage my fear.  And she’s the one that told me I was a good mom.  No one had ever told me that before her.  And oh my, how she loves my son!  If you want to see magic, watch them together.  I’m not sure a then 78 year old lady should have been hanging out on the floor playing with him, but it worked beautifully for both of them…and it is nestled in my heart where I will never forget, even if Bradley can never remember.   There’s other family here too, my cousins that I know were the biggest reason we came through so much of Bradley’s stuff relatively unscathed.  Man am I already missing them! 

So it wasn’t perfect here, at times it was harder than any place in my life has ever been, but we were where we needed to be to put one step in front of the other and keep moving.  Forward, backward, sometimes both directions at once.  That part will not change no matter where we go, the dance stays the same even if the music changes.  For us, the music is changing we just have to keep dancing. 

Fluid Milestones

Some people like to measure life by milestones, and by some, I include myself.  Though I wasn't a militant milestone tracker, I was more than an interested observer.  Milestones were the means to determine how our family would move forward.  We always had to make sure we had what we needed to do that.  With both girls it was whether or not they were nursing or bottle feeding.  Madison would do both.  This was convenient because she could be left with a babysitter and I could go deliver her sister in relative peace...although there is no peace in a delivery room.   Sydney gave me Mastitis, which meant she had to nurse only for week 6 of her life and ever after refused a bottle...a bit more difficult, especially when Eric had his Heart Failure over Thanksgiving when she was only sixteen weeks old.  So we three hung out at the hospital until the last day, then they kicked her out and me with her.  Politics....so it is. 

I've read articles informing me that the first five years of a child's life are the most fragile.  I knew this with the girls and tried to maintain a vigilance to ensure that we hit this symbolic, magical age.  By the time the girls hit the magic number five I was feeling pretty confident.  Over all, I thought we had done fairly well.  Madison had outgrown her acid reflux, and we had survived her medical challenges.  We did not do this with any kind of grace, mostly a knee jerk reaction akin to tying a knot in the rope and holding on for dear life.  She had an ambulance ride when she choked and stopped breathing in Needles, CA while we were having dinner to break up our drive to Missouri for Eric's school.  We made it through that.  When they came and attached her to a heavy Apnea Monitor she had to wear all the time to let us know whenever she stopped breathing; we picked through our terror and got through that.  And when they took her back for her Barium x-ray, I overcame my fear of all things medical because I couldn't stand not being with her where she could at least see me.   Did my then, two month old daughter see me?  Yeah, no...that was all for me. 

By the time Sydney came along, Madison's reflux was a memory, and a week after her sister's arrival, her voice was being heard.  I know now that she didn't talk all that much until she was healed up from all the pain of her reflux.  Just like I also know now she was basically bald in comparison to her new sister...who knew?  Once Madison started talking, she didn't stop.  Once Sydney started talking, she still hasn't taken a breath.  We may have back sliding in behavior...but not in skills.  Never in skills.  They both have very strong personalities and that serves us for good and for bad when learning.  I took a bit to figure it out, but it turns out that Sydney and I were in our first battle of wills over potty training.  I was feeling the pressure of having a three year old not potty trained, and rather than let it go and accept it would be what it would be...  After a truly difficult episode, I remember I sat back on my heels and just hugged her tight, realizing that somehow we had started a battle I had never intended we fight.  From that moment on, I asked, but never forced.  Her next accident, I cleaned her up and sent her on her way without a word.   The next day, the same thing.  The next day, she was completely trained.  Go figure. 

Sydney has never been in an ambulance.  And for some reason, that feels like a huge accomplishment to me.  I have at least one kid that doesn't know the feeling, though Madison was only six weeks...odds are, she doesn't remember it, I know I sure do though.  ;-)   And they have both passed the magical year five.  Such relief.  They are walking, talking, healthy little beings that are growing into young ladies. 

With the girls I get as many clear steps to follow as murky ones.  With Bradley, these milestones are all fluid.  His accomplishments are always big because they have a tendency to repeat... his occur, then disappear and then if we're lucky they come back.  He fought to nurse, or maybe I fought and he was willing to work so incredibly hard for me.  But then he couldn't do it anymore, his Acid Reflux was stronger than he was.  But in spite of it, maybe to spite it...he still fought to learn to eat, moving to a bottle, to a spoon, to a straw cup.  We got close to drinking from a cup, but then that slipped away...we'll try that later.  He learned to walk, and then stumbled a bit, but then he got there anyway.  Now he's on his way to running, he's stiff legged, but determined.  And he learned how to kick...but that got lost too.  One of his first words was "kick," and he'd say it, then he'd do it.  But we lost that somewhere on our journey.  It took some time, and some work on all our parts, but now he's saying it and doing it again.  But it's just how time flows around Bradley, from one moment to the next. 

He's four now...In January he'll turn five.  The magic five.  He has been in an ambulance three times, too many ER visits and doctors to count.  As far as milestones go, it wasn't what I was hoping to achieve for him; but I guess we can just cross it off the anti-bucket list and keep right on truckin'.   He's going to hit his milestones, and slip away from them, then return.  I am hopeful that the idea of potty training will do this for him.  He was willing but now he is resistant.   I wonder when, but I don't push him - Sydney taught me that.  For now I just have to wait and see.  A little Divine Intervention would be okay too, just sayin'. 

Turns out, there is some really beautiful scenery along this journey, and that's a really good thing for when we repeat our steps.  Right now, Bradley is working on giving close-mouthed kisses, reading books over and over, and blowing out candles.  And in the grand scheme of things, practicing kisses over and over again with one of my most favorite guys is truly not a hardship; I believe it is actually called a Blessing.  We walk a path through roses:  all the beauty of the roses and all the pain of the thorns.  We try to see each moment, and be open to the possibility we might be coming around again with the potential to enjoy the sights more than once.   And that's just the way it is, it's not like we don't pick some of the roses to take with us on our journey.  As for the thorns, well they do tend to leave scars but we all know that chicks...er, dudes, dig scars!  :-)  

Chaotic Butterfly Wings

Even when things are going okay in our house, they are always chaotic.  You walk into my house and I believe you are struck as I am...that this is a house of attempted organizational chaos.  As if a butterfly in China flapped its wings and the fluttering tidal wave accumulated over my house and left us in its wake.  Often it is the paperwork alone that buries me, no matter how quickly I do or do not attempt the filing, the clutter inherit in the paperwork alone is mind boggling.  The moment I get everything filed a new wave of papers come gushing in and always nicely coincide with some other traumatic event in our house so that they sit patiently, phoning friends to tell them now is the time to come to our house...the proverbial, 'coast is clear, come party!'  As if that Chinese butterfly hasn't caused enough trouble in our house the very essence of its chaos permeates our sense of well-being.   And it is frustrating, because I think in these terms...the idea of chaos theory and how it runs my life...and throughout my life I am constantly bombarded by butterflies:  their physical presence as well as their beautiful imagery.  Make no mistake, I believe them beautiful and I am now fully invested in their existence in my life...for good and for evil. 

The evil is easy...the uncontrolled chaos, though I am not much of a fan of even the controlled chaos, that too gets trying.  It's like trying to empty a lake with a measuring cup after the dam breaks.  I can control the fact that water is indeed leaving the lake, but cannot control how much water is coming back in.  Bradley's medical problems are so constant and such a point of survivability that his developmental goals are always mocking me.  What have you done for my brain lately mom?  I want to nurture his brain, but always feel like I am trying to nurture that brain so much I can't be certain that I am building it at the same time.  I move along smoothly and then see another four year old who is completely verbal and reading and it draws me up short.  I'm not doing enough and no matter what I do, it will never be enough.  I can't find enough hours in the day.  And like mighty wings, I feel that beat at me.  I know he is not going to discover the cure for Cancer, but there are scientists that are pretty close, so I don't know that they need him anyway.  I just want him to know all that he can know.   And for the record, those scientists are definitely not on the phone calling me for help either. 

And then there are these butterflies that keep coming up in my life, and right now they are the ones that have my attention the most.  You see at nine years old my daughters have each hit that moment in their lives when they realize that our time here on earth is not permanent, that there will be a moment when each of us will die.  I don't know why nine is so hard in our family, but there it is.  When my oldest was nine, her brother was having major surgeries that had mom and dad away for weeks at a time.  She would wake up at night and cry herself back to sleep alone in her bed.  My passionate, dramatic one, refused to climb out of bed and share her fear and grief with her grandmother, choosing to go it alone in her bed in the middle of the night.  And she fought these demons for months, even to a year before she broke down one night and shared them with me.  I felt horrible that she hadn't shared this with me, but I also felt dumbfounded...I mean she shares everything else with me, (everything!) how could I have known she was holding out on me? 

My middle girl? Her trouble started at age eight, but I didn't realize the catastrophic events had occurred to shape her fears.   And it all goes back to the butterflies!  We kept the class butterflies over Spring Break, watched them hatch and fly away...a truly wonderful experience.  But there was this one, some of you know about this, as I have written about this before.  We had the one that climbed out of its chrysalis at the bottom of the cage and had special wings.  Its wings didn't straighten out so it couldn't fly, not knowing what else to do we promised our frantic daughter that we would take care of this little guy for its lifespan....  Unfortunately, it died at 10 days and not the expected 14 days.  The coincidence of having a special winged butterfly with a special boy with an extra chromosome was noted by Eric and I, but it was also noted by my Sydney.  When her butterfly died, her world crumbled, and with it came all the worries and fears for her brother that we never knew she carried, I don't think she even knew.  Perhaps it was the loss, the realization that something that was different and not as strong as the others, had failed to thrive and then had died - but now our nine year old has fears of her brother dying.  Scenarios in her head of us going to the hospital, then calling her to tell her Bradley was not well, then our cousin coming to get her at school because Bradley was gone.  Dream, imagination or fear...not sure which but she is plagued by them. 

So I gave her a box and told her she could put her worries in it so that God would get them.  I explained how the worry goes from her heart to God's ear, but the physical box helps her to learn to let go of her worries and her prayers.  Let go, let God.  It seems to help, well...except she has this concept that God is like the Tooth Fairy.  Not that she expects money, she just thinks he should be taking her letters with him.  What can I say, she's really literal.  ;-)  After a little more explaining, so far so good.  And then the movie "Heaven is For Real" came out, and because I had read the book I was hoping that maybe it would be just what she needed.  What both my little warriors need to help them feel comforted by their Faith.  And of course, there were butterflies in the movie.  Their symbolism touching me more than being pivotal to the movie, but important to our family.  Important to my sudden understanding of how the life lessons of witnessing  the butterfly cycle of life a year ago has triggered a deeper understanding of what her brother is going through and how important he is to not only his whole family, but how important he is to her.  As if Sydney has graduated into the world of worry about someone she deeply loves and stands alongside her sister who has lived there for a few years already.  Now, the four of us are connected in yet another deeper, more emotional way than we had been before.    Really great movie, incredible book - we all enjoyed it very much.  What struck me was that both girls at different moments, have since asked me if I think that Bradley has seen Jesus.  If during one of these procedures he's had, do I think it's possible that he saw Jesus.  I doubt I will ever know because when Bradley is old enough to express himself I am not sure he would remember back that far, but as I told the girls..."Do I feel better thinking that Bradley might have been safe in the lap of Jesus, far away from the pain while he was in his surgeries?  You bet I do."   Do I feel better with my daughters believing the same thing, you bet I do. 

As I mentioned, there is the good too.   The good is the best part.  The good comes with the sound of Sydney's delight and certainty that every butterfly she sees is somehow related to the ones that she set free last year.  The good comes when Bradley and I rub noses and share butterfly kisses followed by the sweetest smile and sloppiest of kisses.   The better comes when he tries to initiate those kisses.  The best kind of chaos?  Watching when these three kids start playing together, when the giggles begin and the squeals signal sheer delight.  Sometimes you just have to learn to juge in chaos and hope for the best.  :-)

Her Lifetime

Twelve Years

 

It's interesting really when you consider lifetimes.  My daughter turned twelve years old...her lifetime is twelve years, her sister's, nine years.  Their brother, four years.  And when I think about what we've done it makes me sigh, twelve years ago we were in Japan and getting ready to come home.  At nine years, we were living in the desert.  And then at seven years ago we were living in our own house...but one that neither girl remembers as it was sold at the beginning of Bradley's lifetime.   And in the last three and a half years before Bradley's lifetime, we lived in Japan, again.  And there we had the fullest life, the busiest, the most outgoing years of my daughters' lives. 

When we lived in Japan the second time, Madison was 4 when we arrived.  She got her first job before I did, and I was just a little intimidated by this.  In hindsight, I could have given up my work all together and taken her to enough modeling and acting gigs to keep us both working full-time.  But I thought I needed to work and bring home some of the bacon, so her work was only a bit curtailed by mine.  She absolutely loved smiling for that camera, and she was like a push button kid.  It never bothered her if they didn't choose her and it never made her much of a brat when they did.  And she had SO much fun doing it all.  When we weren't there, we were at the Little Theater on base, and I was watching, sometimes typing on a laptop, while the girls took as many dance and tumbling classes as they could, and as many as their mom could handle sitting through... even I get bored with typing my own thoughts sometimes.  And that was the second half of her life. 

Now, here we are in what would be her third part...or the whole of Bradley's lifetime.   And we are asking so much of these kids.  It's not that the carefree days are gone, we've just learned that there are important moments and events that are going to impact the way we can live, what we can do, how we can get through each day.  It's a fact of life, and it's been a difficult adjustment.  Now, my twelve year old is moving into pre-teen years and she is carrying the burdens of understanding, and worry , with her.  This lanky, athletic kid is becoming a young lady, and she is trying to do so with grace.  My girl.  My mini-me.  She carries my eyes, my nose and my tendency for thin hair...but carries her Dad's build and coloring.   She has her Dad's penchant for perfection...definitely not from me. ;-)  I couldn't even pretend that with a straight face if I tried.  Madison is not one to take a mistake she makes lightly...and I am the one that is constantly trying to talk her down, talk her around to the fact that our mistakes are the lessons we learn that take us down the path we want to go. 

She's trying to find her way, and in one moment she wants complete independence from me, and then the next thing I know she's wrapped herself around me in a desperate attempt to recapture her hold on her childhood...but her Dad and I can see that childhood slipping out of her grasp.  She has discovered boys and not just in the I have a crush on that boy band super star way, but in the, Mom why doesn't a boy at school want to go out with me?  I try to diffuse this one the best I can, reminders that she can't date yet, she's too young.  And her earnest reply of "It would be nice if one would at least ask" feels like a direct quote from my own life.  I was not the sought after date potential in my school days, so I am the last person to be asking about stuff like this, but here she is, asking the only person she can.  I try to explain to her how my school days were filled with my attempt to be a good enough Volleyball player to deserve being on the team, all the while trying to keep up with those that were so much smarter than me in my classes.  I try to explain how I didn't even have any self awareness in Junior and Senior High to give myself credit for the brains I had.  I didn't start doing that until I was in College.  My daughter is already working through this.  She decided that she wanted Straight A's for the last report card...so I told her to keep doing what she was doing but she would have to put more effort in some specific areas.  She listened, she did and she brought home straight A's.  I showed her the report card and she started to cry as she threw her arms around me.  "I said I wanted to do it and I did!" she sobbed on me. 

I held her tight and smiled, "I knew you would because you said you would." 

"Thanks for believing in me Mom."  Her teary reply.

Mine: "I'm always going to believe in you.  If you say you are going to do something, I know you will do the work and walk the road to get it." 

Best thanks mom I've had in a while. 

So maybe I am too over protective and worry when I let her take her new bike and her sister to the park alone.  But I let them go.  And I try to find ways to let her and her sister test their wings in a safe way and I know that safe is not always best.  But here's the truth.  In our house, in their lives, we are walking a path lined with powder kegs.  There is nothing safe here.  There are only safe seeming moments of rest before the walk up the mountain begins again.  I don't know what the next step for us will be, and I don't know how it is going to impact my daughter's life and shape her next lifetime.  But this is what I do know.  After a week at her grandmother's house, Madison could hardly stand the wait to see her brother and couldn't wait to go get him when he woke from his nap.  She snuggled him, she changed him, she vented him, she sat him down to feed him, and while she did she talked to him with her voice and her hands.  She wanted to connect with him and recapture the time they had been separated.  I am proud of her heart and her love.  To me she is beautiful on the outside and deep inside in her heart.  Her love is pure, her love is strong, and her love does not waver.  She will find the good in you, and she will help you nourish what you have and make it grow.  My Madison makes the world a brighter and more beautiful place just by being in it and by caring about the rest of us here with her. 

She's perfect in her imperfections, and it makes my heart soar with how much I love her and love being her mom.  So Happy Birthday my beautiful girl, your lifetime has been the greatest gift of my life!