Winners, a loser, and Twitter

Winners:  Dave, Maya & I had a great weekend :)

1.  Lots of playground time, some dog park time, general happiness and soaking-in-the-sunshine:

I love to climb so high . . . and Daddy's a great spotter. 

 I made it to the top!

Blowin' kisses to Mommy on the ground

We've taken to sitting anywhere.  Right in the middle of the action for a milk break?  No problem.  It's kind of strangely liberating to just sit right down wherever you please.

2.  We went to a birthday party today and Maya got to wear a dress!  Of course, this is not her first time ever wearing a dress, but it kind of was the first time that she really got to wear a dress.  Before, she wore dresses to events that either a) would have her in our arms/in a highchair the whole time (like out to dinner at a restaurant)  or b) would be in a safe enough place that we could tuck the dress into her diaper cover and let her crawl around like that.  But now she's walking!  And she can wear a dress to a party and walk around in it.  Pretty amazing (and pretty adorable, too).

It doesn't get any sweeter than this, does it?

Loser:  Parker did not have the best weekend.

A totally accidental dog park incident left him cut up.  And now until the skin heals he remains banished from the dog park (since I don't want any dirt to get in the wound).  Good news is that it's healing very quickly.  Poor dude.

Ouch.  Parker, by the way, is still obviously crazy about the ramp.

Twitter?

Since the whole Kristi Yamaguchi twitter thing, I've been wondering what the deal is with twitter.  Then someone asked me last week if I'm on twitter.  Truth be told, I'm not even sure if I should be capitalizing Twitter . . . I'm not twitterliterate (twitterate?).  But it got me curious about who reads here and is into Twitter----please take a moment and cast a vote in the new poll (upper left corner).  Thanks!

PS.  If you didn't see the Helen Keller video that I posted on the blog's Facebook page, you have to go check it out.  It's totally amazing and inspiring!

Kristi Yamaguchi strikes again, again

I'm sitting here, staring at the computer screen, thinking that I can't believe I'm about to write another blog post about Kristi Yamaguchi.  What a strange turn of events. 

Yesterday afternoon I received an email alert about a new comment on Kristi Yamaguchi Strikes Again.  I opened the email and read "Hey, you really made an impression on Kristi! She tweeted about you today!"

Wait, what?

So I thought, "Ok, a tweet = twitter.  Where's Twitter?  How do I find Twitter?" 

I googled "Kristi Yamaguchi Twitter" and found it. 

What?!

That blue hyperlink takes you directly to the "Kristi Yamaguchi Strikes Again" post.  It's a "heartwarming story"!  The "sweet girl"  is Maya!  The "mom" is me!  (Really, no adjectives?  I would have preferred "awesome mom" or "hilarious mom".  I think tweets have a limited number of characters, so I'm going to assume that an adjective just wouldn't fit.  Yeah, that's probably it.)

And then, later last night, it showed up on her Facebook, too!

This image is more difficult to see---but that's Maya's picture, right in the first status update!  Kind of trippy to be on Kristi Yamaguchi's facebook page and see Maya's smiley picture looking back at me.

:)

In non-Kristi-Yamaguchi-related news, I'm working on some household labels, another DIY project that I think will be pretty easy.  I'm also going to a workshop tonight on using the iPad with kids with special needs, so I'll be sure to update on that when I get a chance, too.

News & new videos

Just got around to uploading some videos from my phone.

Here's one from music class last week.  Maya's getting girly, I think.  She likes bracelets, sparkly shirts, and hair clips, unfortunately for this girl:




Here's a bit of Kristi Yamaguchi reading the beginning of her book, while Maya watches:



And the news?  We got an IEP date!!!!  It's Friday, April 1.  That's only 2 weeks away!  I am tentatively so excited to think that the preschool placement could be nailed down in 2 weeks . . . what a load off.  I may have a full head of hair come summertime :)

I think Maya will be happy too----here's a video I took in the elevator on the morning that we went to the school visit.  She's going to love school.  (You need your volume on to fully appreciate the cuteness here)

Kristi Yamaguchi strikes again

After my Simple Certainty and Kristi Yamaguchi post, I got a Facebook message from a friend saying "Hey, did you know that she's coming to the Barnes & Noble on 86th St.?"  I chuckled at the idea of showing up there with Maya in tow . . .

. . . and then I thought, why not?

So we cancelled this morning's therapies and headed into the city.  Having never been to a book reading/signing, I didn't know what to expect, other than we should get there early (turns out, we didn't really need to arrive that early, but Maya loves to hang out at book stores, so it worked out well).  I packed like I was going to war---the iPad, stickers, 3 (!) cups of milk, snacks, her laminated Santa picture.  Unable to master the balancing act of the diaper bag, the food bag, the camera bag, 2 jackets, and the walker, my stroller fell over 3 times . . . each time sending nice onlookers scrambling to help as I balanced Maya on my hip and tried to collect our scattered stuff.  (Slightly embarrassing, but what can you do?)

First we bought Kristi's book (she was there to read and sign her new children's book).  Maya was delighted to have a new book.

Then we tried to figure out the seating.  The B&N folks were sooo nice.  I had to speak with them about Maya's special needs so that they would let me bring the stroller into the event room (sitting without the stroller would soon yield a whiny, floppy mess).  They kindly offered to get me "priority seating" and I was psyched . . . until I saw the priority seating.  They saved a spot front and center for my chair and Maya's stroller.  Nice, right?  But that would have put us right in front of about 60 school kid who all sat on the floor . . . not so cool.

(What's that, little Susie?  You can't see around gigantic me in this big chair?  Too bad for you!   Hooray for handicap priority seating! ---evil cackle----)

So I kindly declined and suggested that maybe I could pull an extra chair onto the edge of the row, and pull the stroller up next to it.  And that's what we did:

Maya in her stroller next to my empty chair

And it quickly got crowded:

And just as Maya was getting beyond restless, the guest of honor arrived . . .

And read her (cute) book about a little pig with big dreams . . .

And then she took some questions . . .

Right after I took this photo, the kid asked "Are you going to teach us to ice skate today?"  That must have been one disappointed kid on the walk back to school.  (Kristi giggled and said diplomatically, "Well, we don't have any ice in here . . . maybe next time.")

Then we waited in line to have our book signed.  I also had printed out 2 copies of the "Simple Certainty" post and laminated them---on one I wrote a note and I planned to leave that one with her (maybe she would get bored in a limo ride and read it.  Dream big, right?) and the other I was hoping to have her sign.  My mom also thought that I should bring a picture that I have from 1995, when I actually met Kristi at a cocktail party after a "Stars on Ice" show . . . but I thought it might be too much.  I envisioned the conversation going down like this:

"Hi Kristi.  This is my daughter---she's disabled and has to wear splints on her feet as she learns to walk, just like you did!  Here's a blog post that I wrote about you---look, I even put one of your baby pictures on top.  Also, here's a picture of you and me from 16 years ago----do you remember me?  Didn't we have fun together that night . . . "  (and then she would do the security-save-me ear tug and I would be carried out yelling "Kristi Yamaguchi, I'm not a stalker!  I promise!")

So anyway, we're waiting and the line is moving quickly.  Maya had a bit of a meltdown when we joined the line, and it was making her happy to hold one of the laminated sheets.  We step onto the stage, and this is how it went down:

Kristi: Would you like this personalized?

Me:  Yes, please, her name is Maya.  M-a-y-a.  It's so nice to meet you.  She's disabled and has splints to walk, similar to how you did (showing splints).  I write a blog read by some parents of children with special needs, and recently I spoke about you in a post (handing over laminated post), I brought a copy for you so that you could see it.

Kristi:  (finishes writing in book, looks at laminated blog post and smiles) Oh yeah, she had the same type of casts that I  . . .  oh wait, that's me! 

Me:  (blushes and feels like a stalker, even though I swear I'm not)

Me: Could you possibly sign this one for me?  (takes other laminated blog post from Maya)

Maya:  WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD YOU TAKE AWAY MY PLASTIC SHEET I HATE YOU MOMMY AND I HATE KRISTI YAMAGUCHI TOO THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE (of course, since she can't talk it sounds more like WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA through hysterical tears)

Kristi: (signs blog post)

Maya: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Me: Could I get a picture of you two?

Kristi: Sure!

Maya: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Me: (plops Maya onto table and shoves laminated sheet in her hand, which instantly makes her stop)

Then I snapped this winning photo:

Kristi: Cheese!  Maya: (too stunned at the reappearance of the plastic paper to think straight)

And then this one:

Kristi: Cheese!  Maya: I've got to get away before this lady tries to take my plasticy sheet again.

About a second later, she tried to back off of the table, creating a momentary panic between Kristi and her press person.  No biggie.

Maya's signed book:

And my signed blog post  (in the confusion, I gave it to her upside down and she signed the back.  I was hoping to hang it up and now it won't work quite as well.  Argh.)

And that was our fun adventure.  Totally worth blowing off therapy for :)

(PS.  If someone had told me a month ago that within the span of 3 weeks I would write 2 posts involving Kristi Yamaguchi I would have thought you were nuts.  Funny how things work out.)

Simple certainty & Kristi Yamaguchi. Wait, what? Kristi Yamaguchi?

In 1992 Kristi Yamaguchi won the gold medal for figure skating at the Olympics.  Weirdly, I clearly remember the bio piece that they played before she skated.  In it, they talked about how she was born with foot/leg problems and had to wear casts, braces, special shoes  (I just wikipedia'd to fortify my 12 yr old memory, and she was born with club feet.)  They talked about how her parents always knew she would walk and run, and that she started skating as a form of physical therapy.  I (along with most of the country, probably) thought "Wow!  Good for her!  And good for her parents, for always having hope and never giving up!" 

Kristi Yamaguchi with casted legs/feet.  I'm not BFFs with her or anything, I just found this on Google images.

I mean, I was 12.  I saw a picture of a little girl with casted legs and thought, how can any parent look at their casted up child and keep the faith that she will walk and run and jump?  I marveled at their hope and faith. 

But maybe they didn't have hope or faith. 

Maybe they just knew. 

I have a child with splints and a walker, who passed by her first and second birthdays without taking her first steps . . . but I can absolutely say that from the first times that I saw her stand and play, I've known Maya will walk. 

Without a doubt.   100%.  She would walk.  It might take a few months, or a few years.  She may need giant leg braces or walkers or crutches for a long while.  But she'll walk.  (And although we're not there yet, I also know that she'll run and she'll climb stairs.  It will come.) 

Not faith.  Not hope.  Not bravado.  Just simple certainty.

The same simple way that you know that spring follows winter, I knew that someday Maya would walk. 

Before we got to the walking, there was waiting, stretching, taping, splinting, laying on the mats and doing exercises.  Propping her to stand at the coffee table and play standing up, shuffling just out of reach and lifting her feet for her to feel a step.  Pulling to stand, then sitting.  Pulling to stand, then sitting.  Enticing her to cruise along the side of the couch by carrying my laptop to the end, then tricking her to go back and cruise the other way. 

There was work.  There was practice. 

There was the mental  marking of an infinite number of baby step celebrations (Her foot didn't turn like that yesterday!  She couldn't get up so quickly a week ago!)

But there was quiet, patient certainty.  I wasn't hoping she would walk, I wasn't kidding myself or keeping my chin up,  I just knew she would.  Clear, simple knowledge. 

How did I know?  I could see it.  I'm with her all the time.  I can see tiny shifts in her abilities that many, many people would miss.  While strangers might see that she falls over 7 times at the playground, I see that she caught herself with her hands 7 times (!), and she's not tipping over backwards as often. 

They see the things that she has trouble doing, and I see how far she's come.

They see the things that she can't do yet, and I see that this month she can do things that were inconceivable 2 months back.

They see a girl held back by splints and a walker, and I see a girl who is zooming (sometimes too quickly for her own good) around a mall.

They see disabilities, and I see new abilities. 

And I'm not judging them for it . . . really, how could an outsider see it any other way?  They see her walker and her, um,  interesting new way of taking steps (she looks like she's rock climbing as she walks---hands and arms in the air as she overcompensates for her weak core by using her arms to help her go) and it really jumps out that she's working harder than the average toddler to get around.  It's easy to see her challenges, but it's impossible to see how far she's come.

Hands up, like she's climbing rocks, to help her move and balance

But I see it all the time.  And luckily, it doesn't matter much to me what other people think she'll be able to do (well, except for Dave.  But that's for another post,  maybe a "part 2"). 

I would bet that there are a lot of other moms out there who feel the same way.  Although I had the idea for this post a while ago, I waited until she was actually walking to speak my mind, just in case there were any sweetly sympathetic readers out there who might respond with the cheery "Oh, Dana, of course she'll walk!  Keep the faith!  Fight the fight!  Keep smiling!"  I love the positivity, but it kind of misses the point for this.

What's the point again?

I guess the point is that parents are often gathering massive amounts of qualitative data on their kids (oh, my science nerdiness is showing, isn't it?).  We remember the past, and we're proud of where we are today.  (If you see a toddler with a walker at the playground, don't feel bad for that kid---she's happy to be moving independently.  And don't feel bad for the mom, as she's likely excited that the walker is working, and wondering how she can help her kid get up the stairs to follow the other kids.) 

Also, we can see the future.  Kind of.  Sometimes it's just easy to see the road our kids are walking on, and we can be totally certain of something that you may think we're wishing and praying for.  Sometimes, for us, it's easy to see.

(And lest anyone roll their eyes and think "This must be easy to write, now that Maya is taking her first steps and all", I'll throw another one out there.  Maya will talk some day.  I'm completely sure.  Maybe not until she's 5 or 6-or later- but she wants to, and she tries.  Someday her muscles will catch up, and words will come.  I don't say it boldly, or as a dare, it's just a simple truth . . . after summer comes fall, and someday Maya will talk.  Simple.)