Monday, June 21, 2010

Fourth Year Thoughts

How can it be four years?! I waited my whole life for my babies and now they are here with me and I cannot imagine life without them. It is as if they have invisibly walked beside me and now I get to enjoy them too.

Most of you who read this know that Michael and I worked very hard to get pregnant. Furthermore, I had an extremely challenging pregnancy. When the kids were here all the hardship has been forgotten. Max and Madeleine have brought me more joy and wonder than I ever thought possible.

Four years.... time is rushing by and every once in a while I want to stop it and take a deep breath and hold on to this amazing experience, called child raising, for one brief minute.

I'm the luckiest girl alive to be so fortunate to the the parent of Max and Madeleine.

Four years. Wow. Four years.

Letter to Madeleine on Her Fourth Birthday

Dear Madeleine,

I cannot believe you are four! You have been waiting to be four for a long time now! Daddy and I keep telling you not to grow up to fast.

You came into this world with an agenda! That shock of blond hair and that fighting personality, we knew you were going to make the world stop and listen. You were born small and early but were such a strong little girl. I worried about you from the time of the pregnancy and I'll admit that from time to time I still worry, despite the fact that you continually show me there is nothing to worry about.

You amaze us everyday. You conquer challenges with such perseverance and force. This year your goal was to do the monkey bars at school. I think you were the first three year old to go all the way to the end of those bars!

You have also tried to spell and write your whole 9 letter name! You have done it! You have also learned to spell Mom, Dad, Zoo, Max and have memorized my phone number to boot! I love your spirit for learning new things. You are everything I wanted you to be, strong, smart, beautiful and nurturing. I'm so very proud of who you are.


Your favorites:

Toys= soccer balls, treadmill (seriously), bike, scooter

Activities= Biking, scootering, gardening, swimming

TV Shows: Caillou (still!), Kipper, Yo Gabba Gabba, Charlie and Lola

Movie= Shrek, Elf

What you want to be when you grow up: Rock Star, Hospital Worker (not sure if that means a doctor or a nurse or a prosthetist)

Places to go: Arboretum with Daddy, Zoo, Science Center, Logan's Pool, Gymnastics

Pretends to be: Teacher Tara, gymnast

Music: Justin Roberts, Caspar Babypants

Food: Macaroni and Cheese, hamburgers, pork, cherries, apple juice, donuts

I love you my sweet little girl, and I'm so proud of you,

Love,

Mommy

Letter to Max on His Fourth Birthday

Dear Max,
It was four years ago when you came into this world. I remember that early morning like it was yesterday. I remember the fear that ran through me as I wondered if you would be okay coming out so early. I heard your cry and relief rushed through me from my head to my toes. I was amazed at the beautiful little boy in front of me. It was like I knew what you would look like all along! It wasn't as much of a surprise as I thought; you looked just like your mommy and daddy! You relaxed under the heat lights while you waited for your sister. It was like you were ready for the world to know you, so beautiful, so perfect.

You are now the boy I always wish I had. You are playful and sincere, smart and enthusiastic. You love music and now when you make up your own songs they rhyme and have rhythm. Daddy and I are so proud of you. I know that you feel music in a very special way and you communicate your feelings and thoughts through music.

Just like a typical boy you love superheroes! You think about the epic battle of good versus evil (or eavnal, the way you say it). And yet you are still aware that it is not okay to hurt others and you know that weapons do that and we do not play with weapons in our family. I will hold onto this memory tightly as I know that one day you will challenge what I say but for now you are satisfied.

Your favorites:
Toys= stuffies (especially Coco), superhero action figures, trucks (fire trucks, ambulances)
Superhero= Ironman
TV shows= Kipper, Yo Gabba Gabba, Sesame Street
Movie= Shrek, Elf
What you want to be when you grow up: Doctor, Ambulance Driver, Tire Repair Man (anyone who wears gloves)
Places to go: Arboretum with Daddy, Zoo, Science Center
Pretending to be: Dog, Robot, Superhero
Music: Justin Roberts, Caspar Babypants, The Beatles
Food: Sushi, Yogurt, Candy (any!), Corndogs, all fruits (peaches, apricots, grapes, plums)

I love you sweet boy, you are my world.

Love,
Mommy

Sunday, June 6, 2010

The People at Target

Are you tired of me talking about Madeleine's leg and situation yet?

I was at Target the other day. Alone. Rare. But True for this day. I saw a family. They happened to be of Asian decent and this may or may not mean anything. Anyhoosies, they had two kids with them. Two little girls who seemed to be in the 'tween' years (10-13ish). One of the girls, the younger one, was walking funny. I noticed and thought nothing of it until I saw her again and got a better look. One leg was shorter than the other. The foot on the shorter leg was pointed and turned out. The calf on the the shorter leg was very very skinny.

I was looking at a child who had fibular hemimelia, uncorrected.

All I could think about was how this little girl's hips must have hurt. And how about the havoc on her back. I stay on the treadmill too long and my post twin hips are screaching in pain.

So, why would the family not correct? Why would the parents not either lengthen or amputate? These are both recognized treatments for fibular hemimelia. If she had already undergone a lengthening treatment she would have also been fitted with an AFO (ankle foot orthotic) or a shoe lift.

I honestly almost ran up to the mother and said, "that is fibular hemimelia! my daughter has it and you should see her run, skip, hop, ride, climb, swim etc." Perhaps if I had felt there wouldn't be a culture and/or language barrier I would have. Perhaps it is none of my damn business.

I don't know.