bowl cuts & potty talk

Thanks to each of you have encouraged me about the book or ordered it or pretended as though you ordered it.  I guess hesitantly excited would best describe my feelings as the release date nears.  I am working through the last edit this week and it has been wild to see it all come to fruition.

In many ways the whole book thing has me feeling like a pimply seventh grader all over again.  You gotta know that my m.o. (modus operandi to those unfriendly to dead languages) has been stuck in the preferred position of not-caring-about-much.  My typical take goes like this:

I’m 35.  I’ve been through some things.  Somewhere along the way I decided I just don’t care about things not worth caring about.  So, if my zipper’s down or you don’t want to be my friend or whatever else induces stress in a normal person that I would love to be…..I just don’t care.

But in junior high I did care.  I did all I could to fit in, to not stand out and poured vast amounts of energy into ensuring my bowl-cut was just right or my spike was just high enough or that my jeans were expensive.  And putting out this book has brought me back to this place that I thought I said goodbye to long ago.  Ginny laughs at me, cause I care and she has so rarely seen that side of me.  I ask her nonchalantly if she likes a section I have written and she quickly sees that what I really meant to say was that my whole worth and being is riding on her response and it better include back-handsprings.

Writing is funny to me that way.  It feels vulnerable.  I want it to be good; I am not sure it is.  And trying to document the hardest thing I have walked through and trying to write down how awesome my son was.  I can’t do that.

All that to say, thank you.  Your encouragement has not been brushed off as quickly as it might have been in the past.  I appreciate it.

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the fam::

Lena & Ginny headed to D.C. last week in order to visit a guru that specializes in institutionalization as well as a few other areas that local doctors aren’t quite familiar with but that are Lena is.  Ginny would tell you that it was hard and good.  Our desire from the visit was to acquire a more accurate diagnosis which will in turn allow us to get more appropriate care and resources.  It went good because we got what we wanted and we do feel that we understand a bit more of the disabilities that Lena is facing.  It was hard because you set and listen to a well-meaning doctorly type point out every single thing that Lena is doing or not doing- while smiling and without physical attack.  Okay, that’s not really Ginny’s struggle but  we’ve decided it was probably by grace that I was not able to go.  We just don’t view her through this lens, so it is jarring when we are forced to do so.

With that said, I held down the fort with the other rascals.  It was easy street.  They are fun and wild and any potty words are far and away funnier than Jerry Seinfeld to them.  So, if things got dull, I just threw one their way for kicks and giggles and reminded them that we can only do that with family.  I’m certain they’ll oblige.