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Sing it with me. . . POP goes the ster-num!

Sep6

Tonight on the Twitter and the Facebook I posted this:

Dani Stone

danimichelle Dani Stone 

Sternum caved in 2 days ago. It happens, don’t be alarmed. Popped back out when I reached for coffee on high shelf. PRAISE BE TO JAVA!

At the time I was just posting the usual minutia of my life. . . like I do. . . when I realized people didn’t know what I was talking about. I thought sure I’d posted about my kooky sternum issue before but then friends replied with, “what the what” “if you say there was a noise, I’ll dry-heave loudly” and my favorite, “what the FRIGGIDY what?” Didn’t I tell you people not to be alarmed?

So now I feel it needs an explanation. My friend Brandi will disagree. She’s already threatened to un-follow me if I talk about it anymore. A little squeamish, that one.

It all started on a rainy day in February. . . I kid. Actually, I have no clue when the first cave-in happened. All I know is that it was 10 years ago when I was pregnant with my son. Let’s just say Mama took the phrase, “eating for 2″ very seriously. My Dairy Queen Blizzard consumption that year was. . . um. . . impressive. Okay, I WAS the Dairy Queen. When Jakie was born 6 weeks premature on April 3, 2001, it was no surprise I’d gained nearly 70 lbs.

This is probably where you expect me to post a picture of me pregnant, right? It’s only fair. Give you a gander at my shape? No. Enjoy this picture of the Veggie Tales character, Barbara Manatee, because that’s what I felt like.

You know how they have those helpful fruit shapes to describe body types? Well, I’m a pear. Big at the bottom, tiny at the top. Pears are awesome baby-birthers. When my shape started to change my lower half, bred from German stock said, “BRING IT. We can do this all day long.” My torso was not as confident. Oh sure, the bigger hooties were nice but my small-framed rib cage and sternum screamed, “we are bones, lady, we do not expand, expect our wrath.”

One day I sat in a snuggly reading position for too long and when I got up I felt a tightness in my chest. It was hard to breathe and I could swear I felt my sternum bone poking me in the. . . well. . . *makes swirly motions over chest* .. . general sternum-y area inside. It felt like it needed to be popped back out but how does one do that? I contorted my round little 5 foot 4 frame in every way I could think of. Nothin’. I looked like an uncoordinated extra in Cirque du Soleil.

Finally I realized if I performed a carefully choreographed maneuver of standing up, breathing out, throwing my outstretched arms as far back as they would go and leaning my head back. . . all at the right time. . . POP!! No, really, when it pops back out, there is a loud audible POP, which usually prompts Dougie to shout, “Oooh, good one, Honey,” wherever he is in the house.

I thought the caving issue would subside after I gave birth but no-ho-ho. Much like stretch marks, baby weight and loving something more than yourself, some things are here to stay.

The ole sternum still caves in every now and again and I have to go all , “Riggs from Lethal Weapon” on it. Google it, young people.

Again, don’t be alarmed. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just uncomfortable and inhibits my breathing until it pops back out. That’s normal, right?

So ladies, if you dare, tell me what bizarre long-lasting effect you have from pregnancy. Ohhh, let me preface that request by saying I do have a few male readers so any info about your downstairs lady business probably should be avoided. We’re adults, we know the carnival ride is never quite the same again, and in my case, sometimes it has to be snapped back together like a Hot Wheels track. Whadayagonnado?

Love Drop Blogger Network – Paying It Forward

Sep2

Love Drop. . . again you say? Yes, again. This time, though, we’re gonna pay it right-the-hell forward.

Last month I was so inspired by all the love shown to my sister, Lucy that I immediately signed up to become a member. In addition to contributing a certain dollar amount every month, I’m also part of the Love Drop Blogger Network, helping spread the word about the next deserving person. Each month I’ll send a little snippet of their particular situation and link to the Love Drop video where Storytellers, Dennis Hildebrand and Mary Montavon do a phenomenal job of illustrating the story.

If the story touches you and you want to donate or send a letter of encouragement, awesome!! If you pass the story along to others, we’re very grateful.

Let’s do this.

Love Drop #9  - Melanie

Melanie and her two daughters

This month, Love Drop is rallying around Melanie, a mother of four from Massachusetts who was struck by a car on July 5th, 2011. 

Melanie was out for a pre-dinner walk with her 16-year-old son, Aidan when they saw a distracted driver veering their way. Melanie was struck by the car going approximately 35 mph. She flew 15-20 feet in to the air before she landed. Quick-thinking Aidan elevated his mother’s head and though she was losing a lot of blood, he stayed calm, talking to her, trying to keep her awake and from going in to shock until the EMTs arrived. 

Melanie suffered a shattered pelvis, ruptured bladder, internal bleeding, broken hand and fingers, as well as, multiple head lacerations from the landing. Melanie cannot walk or put any weight on her legs. Recovery could take up to a year before she regains the ability to walk again. Melanie will be wheelchair-bound for quite sometime.

Before the accident, Melanie was a busy mama whose 4 children and husband relied on for most everything. Though her family will surely step up and help where they can, Melanie still wants to run her home as she did before. This month Love Drop is asking for assistance in making her home more wheelchair accessible. A front-load washer and dryer and stove with front knobs would help her immensely, especially since she loves to cook. 

As always, Love Drop appreciates monetary donations but they also like to see people get inspired and be creative with their donations. Do you have connections with an appliance store, maybe a company who helps people adapt their homes to make it more wheelchair accessible, gift cards to stores or even restaurants in the area would be a wonderful gesture.

Please visit the Love Drop site, watch the brief video of Melanie’s story and do what you can. . . if you can. 

http://www.lovedrop.us/

Thank you!!  

Lucy’s Love Drop Party

Sep2

Lucy and Tracy with J$ and Nate

It’s no secret how much I adore the people from Love Drop. If you’re not familiar with them, then you must be new here because they’re all I’ve been talking about for the past two months. Love Drop is the micro-giving site dedicated to helping one new family or person per month.

Last month they sponsored my sister, Lucy, who’s battling a rare blood disorder, Aplastic Anemia. Last weekend I met the founders of the site, Nate St. Pierre and a man I know simply as J-Money. They stopped by our Love Drop going away party to wish Lucy well as she embarks on a 3-month journey to Omaha Nebraska where she will receive chemotherapy, a bone marrow transplant and start kicking this disease straight in the junk. Sorry, that wasn’t very ladylike. WELL, neither is this stupid disease.

Team Lucy!!

When Nate and J$ arrived, for me it was like meeting Bono and Santa Clause all rolled up in to one, but with less fanfare. I think our big loud group, many of us wearing hot pink shirts emblazoned with LIVE LAUGH LOVE LUCY may have intimidated them at first because they just slipped in to the venue and quietly began to mingle. When it was time for them to open their bag of goodies, however, they did not disappoint.

The beauty of Love Drop is that they don’t always ask for monetary donations. Sure, money is a big part of the goal every month, but just as each family/person is unique, so is their, “drop.”

This month, in addition to a $3,000 goal we were trying to meet to help pay insurance premiums, Love Drop also asked their members to provide Lucy with things that would keep her occupied in Omaha. Members must have had a great time with this request. Lucy received stickers, stamps, stationary, card games, books, a mummy doll that does the Michael Jackon, Thriller dance and even a SpongeBob Hangman game.

When Nate and J$ said, “Could you send Lucy a note of encouragement to read when she needs a little cheering up?” The people responded! At last count, there were 70+ cards and notes that rolled in for Lucy to take to Omaha.

When the final check was revealed, gameshow style, we were thrilled to learn that Love Drop members and visitors raised almost $4,200.00 for sweet Lucy AND provided her with a laptop computer. This will allow her to keep in touch with all the family and friends who can’t be with her every day, but will desperately want to communicate with her.

J$ presents Lucy with generous Love Drop check. *applause*

The Love Drop party for Lucy is a night I will never forget. Lucy’s friends and family and friends who have simply become family (Cat/Aaron/Meg/Arianne) packed in to the venue like hot pink sardines. We dined on Love Drop cookies and Lucy’s favorite candy from Nifty Nuthouse. We heard stories about Lucy that made us cry with laughter. We watched Lucy open gift after sweet gift, and tried to make Tracy comfortable who the day before, had given the BEST gift of all, her delicious bone marrow.

Nate and J$ had no obligation to stay when their portion of the night was over but they did. Even when the heat, the laughter and the sound of children’s high-pitched glee overwhelmed the room, they stayed. That’s the kind of men they are, they care.

To all the Love Drop members I’ll never meet, the family members, friends and extended families who donated this month, to Shannon Henrici, the Twitter buddies, the Facebook pals. . . thank you from the bottom of my heart. Know that you did your part this month to make sure Lucy has the financial/mental arsenal she needs to fight this disease.

To Nate St. Pierre, J$, Dennis Hildebrand, Mary Montavon, you have created something that will touch people in ways you never could have imagined. Thank you for helping my sister and inspiring others to do great things. This is your legacy.

My sister, Lucy is a pretty special lady. I can’t wait until I get to say, “she’s back and she’s cured.”

Dear Lucy, Happy Birth of New Marrow!  Love you!        

Sleigh Ride Anthology – My First Published Story, Y’all

Aug8

A few months ago I was approached by friend and author Malena Lott about possibly contributing a story to the first anthology offered up by her new press and promo service, Buzz Books USA. At the time I thanked her, then politely declined because I didn’t have a story in mind and with my hectic life, didn’t think I’d have time to write it anyway.

Then, one dark and story night. . . I kid. Actually it was a busy Saturday morning and I think I was busy folding tiny laundry for the children. AnyWHO, an idea began to take shape and the more I thought about it the more I was convinced I might have an entertaining little winter story rattling around my brain.

So I wrote it. And rewrote it. And fussed over it. And threw it down, walked away and said, “screw it.” Then picked it up, apologized to it and fussed over it some more. Then finally I let Malena rip it from my white-knuckle grip.

Below is the cover. Psst. “Look Mom. Look Dad!” That’s me. *squeal*

Sleigh Ride, a collection of stories about. . .guess. . . take a wild guess. . . SLEIGH RIDES. . . YES. . . will be released in e-book and limited print edition on 11-11-11. I’m honored to be the fluffy filling in an anthology filled with previously published authors including, Maria Geraci, Maggie Marr, Samantha Wilde and Malena Lott, while sharing the joy of the first-timers club with debut authors Megan Barlog and Jenny Peterson.

I’m proud to be part of this book because aside from it giving me something to put in all my stockings this year, I kid, maybe, a portion of the proceeds of the book will benefit national domestic abuse prevention and awareness as a part of Buzz Books’ Good Reads/Good Deeds project.

Sleigh Ride Anthology! Coming to an as-yet-to-be-determined bookstore near you.

Weeeee!

BookEndBabes post: Book Tours – Rock Stars Without Roadies

Aug6


My latest Bookette post is up at Book End Babes. You’ll find a link below.

This month, I talk about taking a whirlwind trip to Kansas City for the Jennifer Weiner book tour, and make my case about why authors should be treated like rock stars.

After you check out my post, visit the Home page for other book reviews, recipes and more from my sister Bookettes.

Click HERE for link to: Book Tours – Rock Stars Without Roadies

Lucy Receives A Love Drop

Aug3

I’ve started this post five times in two weeks. It’s been sitting here in the “draft” pile looking at me, waiting to be finished. Every time I start to type, the tears come.

I mean, just look at this face.

This is my baby sister, Lucy Gordon. There are 11 years between us and even though I know she’s a grown woman, it’s hard for me to think of her that way. I’m not quite old enough to be her mama, but 11 years is a big difference and at times I’ve felt more like a parent than a sibling. Out of the five of us she’s the most laid back, most upbeat and most calm, but the two of us might be tied for most emotional.

When Lucy was a little girl I took her to see the original Home Alone movie. To this day I remember how she laughed, hysterically, through the whole thing, till the credits rolled at the end. Lucy is the epitome of joy. It’s the way she’s always been. She loves to laugh and when she does, you can’t help but join in.

This year has been a challenge but she’s still smiling. Currently battling Aplastic Anemia, a rare blood disorder, Lucy is enjoying a brief respite from the hospital, spending time with friends and sleeping in her own bed. Soon, she’ll be traveling to Nebraska where she will undergo chemotherapy and a bone marrow transplant to fight this disease. Thankfully, our sister, Tracy was deemed a match, increasing her chances greatly.

I’m angry. Aplastic Anemia is rare. Only 3 in one million people will be the unlucky recipients. It has already stolen so much from her including a year of her life, as well as her beloved position as a phlebotomist with the American Red Cross. Yes, we’re aware of the irony. With those odds, why couldn’t she be a lottery winner instead?

BFFs – Aaron Eveland, Megan Lewis and Ariane Kitchell

In an effort to raise money for her overwhelming insurance costs and future medical bills, our family and her best friends (extended members of our family, really) have teamed up to sell pink “LIVE LOVE LAUGH” wristbands. We sell them on Twitter and Facebook, we’ve parked ourselves at Heroes Sports Bar, sweated it out at PrideFest, and in the coolest sales move ever, friend, Aaron Eveland typically sells them right off his wrist.

We’ve seen an abundance of kindness and support from Wichita, as well as Kansas City, where a chance meeting led Tracy to Love Drop. *angels sing*

Love Drop was founded earlier this year based on the belief that the world can be a community and come together to help others. Each month Love Drop chooses one person or family to assist and all month, any donations through Love Drop members or one time donors go to that month’s recipient. This month, LUCY IS THE RECIPIENT!

Dennis Hildebrand and Mary Montavon

Recently the uber-cool Storytellers from Love Drop, Dennis Hildebrand and Mary Montavon (pictured) visited Lucy at St. Francis Hospital where they filmed her as she discussed her battle with Aplastic Anemia and upcoming bone marrow transplant. Family and friends were also interviewed. The first video in a series is currently posted. You should go watch, then tell a friend to watch. If you do, you’ll make the baby Jesus smile and your karma points will skyrocket! It’s moving, it’s poignant and it’s real.

  Click here for Love Drop/Lucy Story

After watching the video if you feel compelled to donate, we’re humbled and grateful. If you’d like to send a card or note to cheer Lucy up while she’s fighting and recovering in Nebraska, you’ll find an address to do that. If you’d like to pass Lucy’s story along to someone else, we appreciate it. If you send up a prayer for our sweet Lu, we thank you.

Lucy is the most loved person I’ve ever met. Her family and friends adore her. I adore her. And here is where I try not to break down in ugly snotty-faced crying. In spite of all this, in spite of what’s to come, I know Lucy will continue to smile and laugh so that’s what we have to remember to do, every day.

Please keep Lucy in your thoughts and pass along the Love Drop goodness.  Thank you!

Live. Love. Laugh. LUCY.

Goodbye, Borders. I’m Sorry My Fiscal Responsibility Ruined You.

Jul22

Borders – NewMarket Square

Ohhhh, Borders. Say it aint so. Say it aint so, Buddy. You’re closing? Really and for truly? Heart. Broken.

I heard grumblings on the Twitter about Borders closing all their stores. I saw a blurb about it in the newspaper. I even got an email from the the CEO of Borders, Mike Edwards, titled, “A Fond Farewell” and yet I still didn’t think it was true. When the dreamy Brian Williams from NBC Nightly News ran a story about it, however, well, damn it, then I had to believe.

I’m crushed. I’m devastated. In my little ‘burb I don’t have a Barnes and Noble, I have a Borders. Had a Borders. Within a 3-minute driving distance, even. I know some of you callous readers are saying, “big whoop, I’m done with this post, it’s just a book store for heaven’s sake.” Well, no, callous reader, you’re wrong. It was my, “happy place.”

On more than one occasion I’ve told my husband, ”When I die, just stuff me and set me in the corner of Borders at a table with a book and my spirit will rest in peace.” Yes, I’m sure it probably WOULD be creepy for the other patrons but hellooo, just buy some Febreeze and spritz me occasionally. I also warned him if he put legwarmers or a NASCAR hat on me I would haunt him. I probably will anyway. AnyWHO, now even my postmortem plans have been ruined.

Over the years, Borders became more than my book store, it evolved. When my son Jakie was old enough, we’d visit the children’s section and read on the big steps. He even had his first big “fan moment” there when he got to meet one of his literary favorites come to life, Junie B. Jones. Hey! Who remembers the Stupid Smelly Bus Tour? *raises hand* I know I do.

Jakie meets Junie B. Jones

When my daughter Katie was born and became colicky at the age of 3 months, Borders was my mini postpartum vacation destination. I could leave my bundle of crying red-faced joy at home with Dougie while I perused the shelves, sipped a steamy Seattle’s Best latte and soaked up the ME time. At Borders, no one shrieked at me, demanded a PB&J sandwich or peed on me. Well, okay, except that one time.

I don’t know why Borders failed. I was never any good at math. I just know I bear some responsibility. For years my friend, Angela has scolded me for spending so much money on books. “Dani, you know you can get most of them at the library. . . for free.” I would always reply, “ahh, yes, the library, I remember it from my elementary school days. No thanks, I’d rather buy them and keep them. Besides, the library usually smells like feet.”

Books are like my friends. I don’t always like them, but I keep them. Even when I loathe them I keep them. That’s right, I’m lookin’ at YOU, “Reliable Wife.” Wretched thing.

HOWEVER, then the day came when my children were costing me a small fortune in tiny books so we decided to take a family trip to the library. I should also note this coincided with the fact that my Dougie was laid off and we no longer had a small fortune to spend on tiny books because we had to spend it on tiny food instead. I still visited Borders for the atmosphere but my purchases dwindled.

THEN I received a Nook for my birthday. The Nook of course is sold by Barnes & Noble. Initially I was skeptical of the e-reader craze but when I discovered I could purchase my porn and self-help books at 2 AM wearing Hello Kitty pajama pants without having to face an actual clerk at the counter, well, I don’t have to tell you how much Borders stock went down that day.

I walked in to Borders tonight and it was SICK. Vultures already feasting on the carcass. Most items are only 10% off, unless you enjoy book covers with oiled pecs and then you’re in luck because the Romance section is 30% off. Books are already being strewn about with no respect for the division of literature. For God’s sake they had “Hitler’s Instrument Of Terror” next to, “The Great Book Of Bedtime stories.” Not cool, people, not cool.

Because I am ridiculous I got a little misty-eyed walking through the store knowing it would be one of the last times. I KNOW people have bigger problems which is precisely why we all need a Borders. We all need a little break from our lives now and again. I’m a lightweight drinker and I don’t do drugs. Books are my escape and Borders was my escape pod.

Thank you, Borders. For giving me hours of time to roam your aisles, read books to my babies, catch up on life with Stacie Unruh, discover new authors, scald my tongue on honey lattes and replenish my inner happy. You will be missed.

And That’s Why The Wingnuts Can’t Have Nice Things

Jun27

Tonight when Doug announced we should take the family out to see our local ball team, the Wingnuts, my first thought was, “I really have a lot of work to do.” My second thought, “Dani, lighten up, it’s Summertime, take the kids to the ballpark.” So we went, to the eventual dismay of little Dakota and Makayla, we went. Who are Dakota and Makayla you ask? Oh, they’re the little girls who are having bouncy house nightmares tonight because of me. Read on.

What started as a steamy day, turned in to a gorgeous night and as the kids got to the baseball stadium they were both giddy. Jacob, who is on a little league team, was excited to watch the big guys play and to use his outside voice ALL NIGHT. Good-natured Katie had no desire to see the game but we bribed her with M&Ms. Boom! Teeny chocolates, she was on board. At Lawrence Dumont, the cheap seats are still pretty great and we even had a loud obnoxious Larry The Cable Guy lookalike in our section heckling the team. Picture. Perfect.

As we sat in the cheap seats I looked around at how much the stadium had changed since I was a teenager working the souvenir stand. While the other poor suckers had to wear itchy polyester uniforms, I got to wear souvenir shirts. Advertisement! I reminisced about how my fellow employees and I would meet in the bleachers on the third base line to eat nachos and talk about our night. I thought about all the cute ball players from visiting teams I’d flirted with and how briefly in the summer of 1988, I juggled two boyfriends I met at the stadium. The smell of peanuts and hot pavement, mixed with the sound of a peppy organ playing traditional baseball stadium ditties used to remind me of carefree summer nights. Not anymore.

On our way in to the ball park Katie spotted a bouncy house. At 6 years old the child has bouncy houses on radar and can usually spot one within a 10 mile radius. She never whines or begs, she simply looks up at me with those green eyes and flashes her single dimple. Forget it. It’s hers. Tonight was no exception.

By the 4th inning Katie had colored, danced, played Hangman, hugged the giant stuffed rodent mascot and eaten her weight in M&Ms. When she finally looked over and sweetly declared, “Mama, I would love to go see that bouncy house now,” I couldn’t say no.

My daughter climbed in to the house of bouncing fun and started giggling immediately. An employee running the attraction had a young daughter and as the kids got in to play, the girl would bounce with them. Her name was Makayla. Located at the end of the stadium we had the thing practically to ourselves. At one point my new doctor brought his daughters down from the stands and they jumped too. So much joy. So much harmless jumping joy.

After my buddy Dr. Josh took his cuties back to the stands I decided Katie had thoroughly bounced her M&Ms around and it was time for us to go too. We said our goodbyes to Makayla and watched as another girl, Dakota, quickly took off her shoes and entered the inflatable fun ship.

I made a quick stop in the bathroom for a paper towel to dab my sweaty face and *ahem* cleavage. As we walked back around the corner I. . . I. . . I TRIPPED OVER THE CORD.

When I looked down and noticed the extension cord had come out of the socket I didn’t immediately realize what it went to. I knelt down to plug it back in but couldn’t. I turned around to ask nonchalantly, “hey, what does this go to” and all of a sudden. . . THE HOUSE WAS COMING DOWN. I mean this thing started to deflate like a popped balloon. Makayla and Dakota were screaming, the teenagers working the house of terror dove in all Baywatch-style to rescue the girls and I STILL didn’t realize I had unplugged the air cord. I’m. That. Dim.

It wasn’t until the surly carny-looking gentleman who until then was literally laying on the pavement with his hat over his face jumped up and nearly knocked me down to plug it back in yelled, “hey, you knocked the air out,” did I realize I was the one who woke up the bouncy house monster. I unplugged his air supply and the house had no choice but to eat the children. I. Felt. Terrible.

Katie looked on in horror, I apologized profusely and everyone looked at me like, HOW COULD YOU? THESE ARE CHILDREN FOR GOD’S SAKE. As the monster began to inflate and open its mouth to accept children once again, we watched the Baywatch beauties whisper and point in our direction. Even Makayla and Dakota were giving me Kindergarten-sized dirty looks so I grabbed Katie’s hand and mouthing one more desperate, “I’m sorry,” we nearly sprinted back to our seats.

No one was injured. The monster was tamed. The Wingnuts won. Larry The Cable Guy didn’t get thrown out. Our first Wingnuts game as a family was *almost* a success. Except now when we go back, not only will my poster be in a back room somewhere with a sign that reads, “dumbass at large” but my children will surely say, “hey, remember that time Mom almost single-handedly created a tragedy at America’s favorite past time?” Damn.

Congratulations – Erin and Jason!

May22

Watch it, now!

Right now my brother is on a beach in Florida ordering drinks with umbrellas, generously tipping the wait staff and admiring his new bride. On Friday, May 20th he married his best friend and mother of his 2-year-old son, Lucas.  Right now, I bet my brother is grinning ear to ear.

Two days later I’m still thinking about that night. People who attended the ceremony witnessed all the traditional elements of a well-planned wedding including a smartly-dressed wedding party, pretty cake adorned with gems and pearls, flower girls throwing petals for the bride and a toddling ring bearer who would’ve wandered aimlessly were it not for the junior ring bearer in charge of wrangling him. The wedding of Erin and Jason Gordon was stunning.

It was also one of the warmest, sweetest, loving-est celebrations I’ve ever been a part of. The room radiated with overwhelming love for this couple and their son.

Lucas and Erin

The bride and groom, who looked as if they’d jumped right off the cover of Modern Bride, couldn’t take their eyes off each other. And though it may sound corny I’m just gonna say it, it was a bubble of happy and we were all floating along together.

Jason and Erin. First Dance

After the vows were recited, the rings exchanged and the champagne cork “finally” popped across the room. . .

POP!

we took a cue from Kevin Bacon in Footloose and we danced.

Maddi, Katie and Addison

And danced. . . .  

And air-guitared. . . .       and danced. . . .    

and danced. . .

Katie, possibly flashing baby gang signs.

 and posed for cheese-tastic pictures. . . .

My Daddy!

Tracy Lynn and baby Ava

more smiling. . . more pictures. . .  

Finally it was time say goodbye. Exhausted, happy, teary-eyed and full of cake. YES! Cake!

TOAST!

I had the pleasure of giving a toast to the bride and groom. On the days leading up to the ceremony, every time I tried to write it, I broke down in a puddle of tears. ‘Cause y’all, the groom was not only my brother, he’s my buddy and that kind of emotion is hard to put in to words. Especially when those words will have to be read to an audience under a white-hot spotlight while grasping a glass of champagne and holding back ugly-face tears. That’s a lot of pressure. So instead of waxing poetic about how much he means to me (he knows anyway) I decided to go with the tried and true formula for good wedding toasts: One part embarrassing childhood story, one part funny anecdote, one part mushy goodness.

Erin and Jason – May 20th, 2011:

On September 22nd, 1973 my brother, Jason was born. Mom tells the story that when I heard the new baby was a boy I threw my first Diva fit and told her, “don’t even bring him home.” But after I saw him, my heart melted. And I only let him fall off the couch and hit his head once. . . on accident. . . I swear.

 God sent me a playmate. Over the years he would send me three more playmates in Missie, Tracy and Lucy but Jason was the first.  I was his BFF, his confidante and for awhile I was even his interpreter when people, including our father, would summon me to ask, “DaniMichelle, what IS he saying?

 Over the years we were inseparable. I rode my bike, he rode his big wheel. I played with the McDonaldLand playhouse, he played with his Weebles, I played with my Barbies, he…undressed the Barbies and hung them from doorknobs. DUDE, why were you always undressing the Barbies? Erin, don’t worry, that was a brief phase he went through, I’m sure it has no effect on his personality today. He also took great joy in making me laugh so hard that food would fly out of my nose. Lemon meringue pie is a particularly messy memory.

 When times got rough, and they did, I was the calm in the storm.

As we grew up we drifted, but never apart.

Today I take great joy in poking fun at the boy Jason used to be, while beaming with pride at the man and father he’s become.

Erin, you’ve attended your fair share of parties and cookouts over the years so by now I hope you know what you’re getting yourself in to. This family is big and loud but we’ve got love to spare and we’re so happy to make you an official Gordon. We love you so much and thank you for bringing Lucas in to our lives.

Erin, even though the two of you have been together for years, I feel like I’m officially passing the torch to you tonight. Jason and I will always be close but now you’re the BFF, you’re the confidante, you’re the playmate and you’re certainly the calm in the storm.

 They say if you marry your best friend you’ll never be lonely. Jason and Erin, it’s easy to see how well you get along and how perfectly you fit together. As the years go by, my wish for you is this: May God bring you more children, *look at the couple with raised eyebrows* good health, long life and even a little lemon meringue pie out the nose every once in awhile, ‘cause that’s the good stuff.

Congratulations.  Love you.

Welcome To Holland/Mother’s Day

May6

Yesterday I spent some time talking to a father about the struggles both our daughters (also both Kaitlynns/Katelyns) have faced since birth. My Katie with VOGM, his Katie with Down Syndrome. As we shared stories about these brave girls he quoted a portion of the “Welcome To Holland” essay. I’d never heard it but just the idea made me weepy. When I got home I scoured the internets to find the complete version. (below)

Welcome to Holland

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this…

When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans: the Coliseum, the Michelangelo David, the gondolas in Venice. You may even learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.

After several months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says “Welcome to Holland.”

“Holland?!?” you say. “What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I dreamed of going to Italy.”

But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.

So you must go out and but new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It’s just a different place. It’s slower placed than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there awhile you begin to notice that Holland has windmills… and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy… and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away… because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.

But… if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things… about Holland.*

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Though it’s only one page long, this essay moves me to tears every time I read it. My journey through “holland” was brief but I still had to “buy a new guide book, learn a new language” and I’ve definitely, “met a whole new group of people I would never have met.” For more than four years it was heartwrenching and terrifying but on May 14th, 2008, our trip to Holland was over.

This Mother’s Day I want to recognize all the Mamas whose days are made that much more challenging because their child has a disability or disease. The Mamas who will spend that day in a hospital at a child’s bedside. The Mamas whose sons and daughters protect our country. The Mamas who will spend the day laying flowers on a headstone. I know all these types of Mamas and second to my own, they are my heroes.

I also want to recognize all those Mamas who fight the good fight for other people’s children. Those Mamas who by career path or volunteer opportunity, have taken, “it takes a village to raise a child” to a whole ‘nuther level. Here are just a few on my mind today: The NICU nurses at Wesley Hospital, the NICU nurses at Roosevelt Hospital in New York, home health nurse Verdell, Jennifer White, Katie Grover, Jennifer Harjo, Jessica Richardson, Kathryn Welch, Kerri Hagen, Deena Flanigan Kreutzer, Andrea Anglin, Deb Davis and so many more I know I’m forgetting. Thank you for your boundless compassion. You’re my inspiration.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the exhausted, proud Mamas out there, and to those who help us get through one more day.

*Welcome To Holland was written by Emily Perk Kingsley, an Emmy winning writer for Sesame Street whose son Jason has Down Syndrome.