confessions · fluffy posts · Rants

So blubbery right now.

I’m not going to lie. I want my blog to be read. I want readERS. I think anyone who blogs regularly in an open format like this wants that. I get all excited every single time I see that I have a new “follower” or find out someone else is reading here. Because it means that what I am saying has SOME effect. Maybe it makes you laugh. Maybe it makes you angry. Maybe it just gives you something to do while you sit on the toilet.  With every new reader, I feel renewed commitment to having this blog be as authentic and true to the life I’m living as it can be. Good and bad.

Ever since I decided to stop caring how people “see” me and just be myself, I’ve found this blog to be hugely liberating. And, at the same time, I’ve found how much I truly LOVE to write. How the words come to me when I sit at my computer. I really do work hard on each post. Each word is carefully chosen. Believe it or not, even the swears are thought about.

I’ve gotten a lot of shit crap poop from some close to me about the words I use. They told me that if I have people who are not members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (LDS or Mormons) reading this blog, I’m going to turn them away from being interested in the Church. They told me that I’m not being a good example of my family or of my Church.

I hope they are wrong. I hope that if you are a member of the LDS Church that I have not offended you with what I have said. The language I have used. I did not make this blog out to offend ANYONE (until my next post). It’s my personal blog. It’s my personal writing. I write the way I talk in everyday life. I write about that everyday life. Some days it’s hectic and loud and sweary. Others are peaceful, pleasant and nice. And in both instances, I still feel the hand of God in my life. I hope if you are not a member of the church, my writing has shown you my relationship with God and my love for the LDS faith, and maybe it has made you want to learn more.  Maybe not even about Mormonism per se- but about faith. About God. About good crap like that.

I did not set this out to be a “Mormon Mommy Blog” because, though I love the Mormon religion, that’s not what this blog is all about. I did not set it out to be an Autism blog, a Down syndrome blog, a craft blog or even an ranting mommy blog. I set it out to be ME. And for the last year, I think I’ve been {mostly} honest in the things I have said.

So I can’t say that it doesn’t hurt my insides a lot some can’t see past a “shit, hell, fart or damn” every once in a while to the true message of my blog. I feel it’s like someone who can’t see through the scar on my forehead or the extra weight around my waist to see me. They focus so much on the little things, that they are missing the big things. What I did set out this for this blog to be:

A blog about a semi-normal mom in an abnormal situation. A mom that wasn’t endowed on high by any special gifts in order to have her special kids. I want people to see that if a mother, one with ADHD and a small obsession with kittens (which she can never have, no less), can handle two special-needs kids and still laugh about life, they can, too. Maybe it will help someone to see the beauty in Down syndrome and choose to keep their baby who has just been diagnosed with it prenatally. Or maybe someone will see how great it is and it will inspire them to rescue a child with Down syndrome from a life in an adult mental institution somewhere on the other side of the world.  

If nothing else, I hope I make you laugh. I hope that I make coming back worth it. And for those of you who have come back, time after time, month after month, I can’t tell you how much it means to me. You say such nice things. You make me feel like I’m doing something good. I appreciate it more than you will ever, ever know.

You make me want to continue to do something that is cathartic for me. That helps ME more than I’m sure it will ever help anyone else. Because I need to write. Some days, like today, I need to just GET IT OUT. Thank you for staying along for all of it. All of me. And for not judging me or making me feel like I’m less of a person because I don’t do or see things JUST the way you do.  For seeing past my faults and my scars and my lack of personal hygiene to who I really am:  Lexi Sweatpants.

With that being said, get ready for my next post. It’s going to be super hateful.

fluffy posts

It’s better than you can even imagine.

Today I dragged Casey to school. The same on Monday (it would have been yesterday as well, but they didn’t have school). If I let go of his hand or stopped pulling him… he’d stop. He refused to walk without being compelled to. He was “bored of walking to school.” I was also pushing Abby, who is teething and grumpy because she wakes up in the middle of the night to stop breathing, in a stroller that Carter and Peyton insist on holding on to. So basically I had to drag my whole family to school.  It looked something like this:

So you could imagine that walking home after dropping 3/4 of them off is quite liberating. Some time to myself (sorta). Time to cry if I want to. Not so much because mornings sort of suck, but because I’m walking back to the destruction that is my house. Just kidding. I don’t cry. That would be lame and completely out of character. Plus, my house is always immaculate.
Today while walking home an older gentleman walked by with his dogs. We smiled and said hello, and as he headed on his way he glanced back at Abby (today she was facing me in her stroller so he couldn’t see her as he walked towards us) and stopped in his tracks.  I watched him melt right there. He came back and got right close to her. He told her over and over again how beautiful she was. He kept saying, 
“You’re so special! You’re so special! We love you!” 
Then I melted. And there we were, two puddles. 
Want to hear another fluffy story?
A few weeks back (and I haven’t written about this because I was trying to summon the courage to get a picture of this team with Casey. Turns out, I’m a coward) Casey spent most of his afternoons in the park trying to catch butterflies.  Many of these days he did this wearing a full Iron Man costume. No joke. The track team from the high school that is just around the corner from us has been practicing at the same park because their field is all dug up. One day while we were there, Casey managed to catch a Monarch butterfly. The be all, end all, best butterfly there is. He was thrilled. So, he did what thrilled boys do, and took off towards the largest group of people he could find to show them his catch. 
They were right in the middle of drills. I really didn’t want him to interrupt, so I went tearing off after him, Abby in arms, to stop him. But he was too fast. He went right up to the coach as she addressed the team to show her his butterfly. I could feel my face flushing with embarrassment. I continued to approach her, to apologize for Casey interrupting, when the most magnificent thing happened. The coach stopped what she was doing and looked at this butterfly. Then she told her whole team what he had done and they CHEERED! They all yelled and clapped and gathered around him to see his butterfly. They patted his back and told them what a good job he had done. 
There I stood, still holding Abby like a football, out of breath from running to catch my son. I started to cry. It was one of the sweetest moments in my entire life.
And probably Casey’s. He spent the rest of the saying, “they LOVE me!” 
See? Being a mom of special kids is tough. But it’s also better than you can even imagine.