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Joan of Arc

February 2, 2012 By Kelle

Tuesday was ordinary, maybe even a little less than ordinary because I was multitasking in ways that had me frazzled, not quite present, edgy even. Ballet followed by lunch with friends was a nice retreat from the craziness I had created that day–a lost to-do list, papers scattered on my desk, clothes thrown on the floor, an unmade bed. It wasn’t a bad day. It just wasn’t, well, great. I’m okay with that. They can’t all be fireworks.

By late afternoon, I lost such direction that I stood in the middle of the room not once, but twice, and said out loud, “What was I just doing?” And somewhere around mid afternoon, when I noticed the long shadows in the driveway and the sun’s arrival over the back woods where it begins its nightly retreat, I decided I wasn’t letting the day go down without a fight.

I still had things to do, a house to tidy, mouths to feed, but suddenly at that moment the most important thing was finding a way to resuscitate life back into our day. Like it was hidden in a game of hide-and-seek and my challenge was to find it.

No brainer. It’s at the beach. I didn’t really have the energy to pack up pails and shovels and head out, and I knew Brett wasn’t in the mood either. But maybe those are the times you need it most–when it’s work. It started begrudgingly–our quick preparation to take the girls to a beach sunset–but by the time we drove the four miles and caught that pink horizon from our windshield right before we pulled in to the parking ramp, everything settled and my lost direction was suddenly clear.

We arrived just in time as if that heavy pink sun hung still right before it hit the water line, waiting for our arrival.

Onlookers clapped like they always do once it finally fell, and we stayed and relished its afterglow.

Nella walked the beach for the first time, her little body confidently trudging right toward the gulf. It knocked her down a few times, and she shuddered as the cold water lapped over her legs and diaper. I pulled her back into dry sand, away from the intimidating waters, but that didn’t stop her. She trudged forward, like Joan of Arc, again and again and again. To conquer the water, to seek the thrill.

Yesterday, ABCNews.com did a story on Living with Down syndrome and Nella. Cara, the producer, did a beautiful job, and I felt so humbled and honored to have the opportunity to represent this amazing community of parents and share what I believe to be very important–that we all have a choice in how we embrace hardship, and that it can open the door to living a bigger, better life. It’s a story we share with many. But, for some reason, I read the first comment after the post–nothing I haven’t heard before, a bit of a *yawn* by now–but still, the presented concept pissed me off at that particluar moment. That, my God, a story of a family living life to its fullest and celebrating their child who is doing great is ridiculous because our kid is two and it’s going to get so much worse. Here’s the thing–this person is completely right in the fact that it’s going to get worse–more hardship, far more difficult challenges than, say, occupational therapy. My opposition to the comment really has nothing to do with Down syndrome or negativity in a comment–we deal with both on a regular basis, and we tend to forget about them respectively.

The problem I have with it is the theory that happiness and perspective and grabbing life by the balls is somehow discredited if challenges are still ahead. I got fired up, something I don’t often do anymore over a silly comment. Because if there’s one thing I have a problem with, it’s joy-suckers. Don’t suck my joy. Don’t suck someone else’s joy. You think I don’t know what’s ahead? You think I don’t have moments where I put myself there–ten years from now, thirty years from now, fifty years from now? You know what statistics say? I know damn well it’s a hard, hard road and there will be tears. But I trudge forward. Like Joan of freaking Arc, and I embrace the challenges and choose to be happy. Knock me down, Waves. I’ll get back up. I do cartwheels, okay? In my driveway. Sometimes in my nightgown. And I will never stop trying to live life this way.

There is reason for everyone to be unhappy. There is reason for everyone to be happy. What’s your focus?

I’ve been thinking a lot about adventure seeking. How people choose to climb Mt. Everest knowing it’s a brutal challenge. How my friend, Melina, slips in a kayak and paddles through life-threatening rapids because she wants to feel the thrill. How runners train for marathons when, certainly, a 26-mile run doesn’t promise a pleasant experience. How surfers suffer concussions and yet get right back out there because there’s something bigger on the other side. Adventure, victory, adrenaline, the self-awareness that comes from conquering something difficult.

You can look at this big picture or small picture; it works both ways. Heading to a beach sunset even when you don’t feel like it. Pulling the craft bin out in search of glitter, knowing it will make a huge mess. Signing up for an African Drum class even though it’s one more thing on your already busy schedule (I’m thinking about it). Choosing to embrace the heartache of raising a child with Down syndrome and being happy, exhuberant, determined in spite of it.

My point? You cannot wait for Life to come to you. You have to go get it–pursue it in a wild, passionate chase that includes the foreboding depths of challenge and heartache just as much as the ecstacy of triumph and success. You have to want it bad enough to seek it not only when things are rough and the pursuit of it brings the hope of change, but when things are comfortable and easy, and the quest for more living–more purposeful awareness–might even make you scared. It is in that fear–that breathtaking exhileration of “What If?”–that you rise to the occassion.

You step out of your comfort zone and experience the thrill of taking risks and the possibility of believing that, sure, things might be good, but if you stretched a little further, they might be great. I want to know great. And I will work hard to find it.

…and that’s why we went to the beach.

*****

Introducing new sponsor, Thirty One Gifts Independent Consultant, Nicki Kusek. Thirty One Gifts has a brand new catalogue out as of yesterday, and it’s chock full of some great organizational totes and storage options.

Our new utility bag is like Mary Poppins’ bag–you can fit a house in it. Perfect for the beach.

And Lainey & Nella’s personalized cinch bags came in handy when I organized everything they’d need while I was in NY last week.

Totes are affordably priced, and there is a great variety of sizes available. Happy Shopping.

*****

Also joining Enjoying the Small Things this month is Mom Colored Glasses, a site dedicated to inspiring moms by providing ideas and information in a fun, well-organized way. One click on their site will lead you to a great collection of articles, recipes, crafts, forums, and little things that will surely make you happy. From ideas for better living to suggestions for both the best kid and mom books, it’s a colorful, lively place to be–a great source for motherhood inspiration.

*****

I’m chasing life this week. Planning Nella’s little party this weekend is helping.

Tea Party in the Woods to come. We will announce and celebrate the closing of Nella’s 2 for 2 Fund after this weekend.

And in case you lost that beautiful piece ABC News did in my fiery sermon, you can watch it HERE.

Christmas Tang.

December 8, 2011 By Kelle

Beware of the Christmas unicorns. They’re flying all over this post, and you’re going to have to bat them off with a big stick.

So get a bat; prepare to swing.

Evidence A:

Christmas in the Park, Bonita Springs, Tuesday night

Snow! Snow! Even if it’s mechanically shot out of a street light blower.

And C:

Gary found the Naples version of Christmas Light Holy Grail

I can sniff a Christmas unicorn from, like, miles away. And I feel it is my duty to share.

*****

We snuck out of the house in our pajamas the other night to go searching for Christmas lights. Gary found the muthaload at Flesher Farms, not too far away from our house. It’s so grand, they have a parking assistant flagging people in. And then you get out of your car and tour the property.

Nice, eh?

And they have reindeer disguised as horses.

I think this is Vixen, evident from the strong snout and chiseled jawline. His alias is Skip.

You like Christmas?

How ’bout them Christmas apples?

Upon being smitten with Christmas wonder in the form of piped-in country Christmas tunes and a garage transformed into the biggest Christmas village ever (and watching my girls’ eyes get all twinkly), I did what any good friend would do–I called Heidi and told her to throw her kids in the car, STAT, and meet us. She was on the way home from a Christmas preschool program and her responsible husband insisted they needed to go home; school night, and they had homework. So she put me on the phone with him and made me convince him (I’m good at this). I was this close to breaking into a warbly, theatrical performance of “Fahoo For-aze, Dahoo Dor-aze,” but turns out I didn’t have to. Ten minutes later, they showed up.

I’m beatin’ a dead unicorn here, but holiday memories rock. Cross stitch it on a pillow and never forget it.

*****

Christmas Unicorn, take two.

If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. I cracked because everyone was doing it, and they’re saying the kids are loving it…

Meet Elf on the Shelf who made his debut, swingin’ in on a candle this morning.

You’re supposed to name him first. I wanted a cool name–like Frank. Or Winston. Or Cornelius the Third. This elf’s going to be with us for years, and his name goes down in family history. But as I was reading the book last night, Lainey smiles and blurts out that she wants his name to be Elfitty. “Elfitty?” I smiled, validated her suggestion and began to cleverly steer her toward more names–other names. Brett was secretly listening though and he interjected from the kitchen, “Kelle, don’t you dare!” I knew he was right. I knew he was right. Let go of the reins–it’s her creative, not mine.

“Elfitty. That’s beautiful. Perfect.”
So his name is Elfitty. Alright, I confess, it was really Elfitty Happy Santa, but I cut the “happy Santa” and she hasn’t noticed.

Fahoo For-aze, Baby.

*****

I catch moments like these and, literally, I get a rush.

They make each other laugh in the wagon. Lainey squeezes Nella’s cheeks to make them into a funny face, and they both start cracking up. I freaking love it.

*****
We’ve been making plans to return to Bob & Judy’s U-Pick Citrus, and they kept falling through. So, it was come hell or high water today, and the weather happened to lay out the red carpet.

My friend Rebecca and I drove a little ways on I-75, then a lotta ways on a long country road, then a little more ways through a tangled grid of dirt roads until we landed in God’s country. Horses, goats, cows–and Bob and Judy who open up their citrus haven home for public picking.

It was all kinds of lovely.

The orange “inhale.”

We ate snacks under the shade of an orange tree, lured the resident cat into our laps (didn’t take much work), participated in grove races, and stopped to eat our oranges right then, right there because that’s when they taste the best.

Lainey and Beckham loved the game of pull, snap and fall.

And Nella was happy to be in the middle of it.

This is Florida, at its best–sun spilling starbursts through pockets of leaves and oranges and branches, the air thick with the ripe scent of tangy citrus, blue skies and the December crispness–not too hot, not too humid. And friends and cats and Bob and Judy’s charming grove.

Toto, we’re not in Naples anymore.

On the way home, we found an off-the-beaten-path country store. And, by country, I mean Country. We bought water and lollipops and stayed for an hour. Country store happens to come with a little bonus–an open field, a friendly tree, a tire swing and a homemade wooden amphitheater where the kids performed and danced for an audience of two.

At the end of the day, we were happy. I thought a lot about homeschooling today–how much we learned, what we experienced, how good it felt to be out, doing, seeing, learning and how good it felt to be with her while it happened. There are days I think it might not work out and days like today when I think…it could happen. There are pros, there are cons, there is a bit of time before we need to decide.

Until then, there are adventures. And a frickin’ elf named Elfitty Happy Santa who needs to find a hiding spot.

*****

Congratulations to the I Dream of Toffee $30 gift certificate:
Comment #175, Baby by the Sea: I love the look of lights on a palm tree. As usual, quite a pleasure reading your post…

Baby by the Sea, please send your contact info to kellehamptonblog@comcast.net with the subject TOFFEE GIVEAWAY WINNER, and you’ll soon be richer in the delicious caramel corn department.

*****

Ya’ll (I had a country day, I’m in the mood) remember that awesome t-shirt company, Okllo, that offered those great historic American tees? There is so much I love about these shirts–their message, their quality (nice thick cotton), the colored sleeves and collar. They’re back this month in sponsorship with those same great shirts and some new art products for kids.

The Abe shirt–seriously. I love his face all front and center. And give it up for Mama with his quote: “All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” Lainey’s sweet purple-sleeved shirt: Sakakawea tee

And their art supplies? I have a new crayon obsession, and I know a good crayon when I see it (I’m usually still coloring long after Lainey’s left her coloring book).

Hello Stocking Stuffer, Stockmar Beeswax Crayons (available in blocks–great for O.T. beginners–and regular sticks).

Okllo has an additional selection of quality art supplies for kids (we love our new kid scissors!) as well as their one-of-a-kind Great American tees, and they are currently offering FREE SHIPPING! Plus, get an additional 10% off using code ENJOY10. One lucky commenter on this post will be randomly selected to win a $35 gift certificate, courtesy of Okllo. Happy Shopping!

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Oh, it is late. Happy Dreams!

Rainforest

October 19, 2011 By Kelle

The sky was a purplish gray tonight–the quiet after the two-day storm, the calm before the cold front.

It’s rained steadily for two days. Lightly fallen into a constant backdrop of white noise, wet windshields and drips that tap the surface of our pool with an encore of water rings that grow and slowly disappear.

We ate bagels and sipped coffee this morning with the accompaniment of the Weather Channel which brought like-minded stories from the flooded streets of Key West to waves that crashed over guard rails along Lake Shore Drive.

It felt a very good place to be last night while thunder pounded and rain poured–secured under the weight of a cold sheet, a cable-knit blanket and a down comforter, and sidled next to Lainey’s little body, Brett’s long and strong one and the sight of a little chest rising and falling in the crib next to us. (ahem, Thursday morning addendum: After waking up to several “LOL, long and strong” texts from friends, let’s just take Brett out of this sentence.)

Brett swears the middle-of-the-night thunder put a crack in our hallway ceiling, but then again, it was so powerful and startling that we woke up looking for a good story to tell.

The story is that our woods are a swamp that begged for exploration today.

In eight years, we’ve seen nothing more in these woods than a few lizards and some patches of poison ivy we’ve avoided, but we are always on the look-out for worse. I can’t believe I never ventured out here until I had kids though. It is a fascinating place, welcoming much imagination.

Lainey thought it was the greatest thing in the world–to trudge through shin-high depths and pretend we were in grave danger from a looming storm. “Run! Hide in here! It’s coming! It’s coming!” she warned me, all breathless. And I pretended I was scared of the great big storm and followed along, shimmying my body against trees and cowering under hanging moss.

We made it to our safe spot, the imaginary bobcat did not steal our “food” and I answered to my fake name of “Stenta” (she is creative with her fake names).

Thank you, Daddy for the pics. It was his idea, in the first place, to turn the woods into a playground.

*****

I found our local Asian food mart yesterday, walked in and wondered how in the world I had ever gone so long without it. We fell in love with a local restaurant’s Tom Kha soup, and I had to recreate it. So I headed to Asian Pok for lemongrass, ginger and some good red curry paste but ended up falling in love with so much more–the Chinese lanterns that decorated the ceilings, buckets of vegetables I’ve never seen, racks of kimonos and shelves of delicate tea cups. I came home with lemongrass, ginger and some good red curry paste as well as the exact same little lacquer bowls my grandma used to have, an origami bird for Lainey and a tin of loose leaf Jasmine tea.

And Tom Kha soup? Turned out delicious and is now one of our favorites. I’ll share recipe once I perfect a few things. The lemongrass was a little crunchy.

*****

Giveway winners for $50 gift certificate, courtesy of Chantelle Nicole Designs:

Comment #228: vermonter–Love the new header. I have to say that it is such an awesome idea to have leaves sent to you if you are not able to go to them. There is nothing like the fresh smell of leaves or the fresh air with fall in it.

Comment #437: Life with Kaishon–I love when parents listen to their kids.
If they don’t like a sport…why force them?

Congratulations to both of you! Please e-mail me your contact info to kellehamptonblog@comcast.net with GIVEAWAY WINNER in the subject line, and you can start shopping at Chantelle Nicole Designs.

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This moment just killed me tonight.