The kids are doing well. Keaton has, after several rocky weeks, become well adjusted to school. I am so glad that he likes it. I'm no longer distraught with worry for him all day long!
Karis is doing well also. I was actually getting very frustrated that she hasn't had any therapy since April or May (because this area currently has no therapists, UGH!). She seemed to be falling hopelessly behind, and I was begining to wonder if there was any way she was going to be ready for preschool in April. However, all of the sudden, like she always does, she got on a developmental roll. She has made some quick progress in a lot of areas, including this one milestone that has eluded her for a long time.
Yes, Karis can finally get food onto a spoon, and into her mouth. She could do one, or the other, for a while now, but not both. Some foods are still a challenge, but I'm happy for the progress she's made because she was about a year behind on this skill. I love my daughter, and I'm so incredibly proud of her. She brings me so much joy, laughter, and pride that is deeper than I ever dreamed possible. Even in her challenges, she's so sweet and so cute, you can't help but love her.
That thought brings me to the facebook post I mentioned. You have all probably read the poem "Welcome to Holland," especially if you are in the special needs community. If you haven't read it CLICK HERE!
This poem is so moving and so eloquently puts into words what it feels like to have a special needs child born to you. Even though I really like that poem, I came across one on facebook that moved me to tears. I think that the Holland poem pretty accurately described the feelings I had when Karis was born, but this poem, "My Old House" really articulates how I feel now, how I adore her and her "sweet charm."
This comes from a blog called Journaling Leah, you should check it out!
Here it is...
My Old House
For years, you save for your dream home and the time has come to buy! You walk through several houses, many of which are interesting, but not quite perfect.
Finally you find THE house. The location is great. It has 5 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, hardwood floors, and one entire wall is a giant window showing the most breath-taking view that you have ever seen.
Everyone you know is happy for you and your new house. You can’t wait to move in.
On the day you are scheduled to close, you receive a call from your lawyer explaining that the homeowners changed their minds and have decided not to sell.
You are shocked and sad. You have planned, waited, and prepared for this house, but now it is gone. You picked out new paint colors and decorated it in your mind at least a million times. You wonder, “How could this happen to me?” You think you will never find your perfect house again.
You remember a cute little house in the city that you walked through a few months earlier. There was something about that house which was comforting when you were there, and the need for a home of your own is still strong. You decide to put an offer in for this house. Your bid is accepted. You move in within weeks.
When you tell everyone about the loss of your “perfect” house and plans for moving into the second one, you receive many condolences. Everyone is sad for you and all of your friends and family wish they could “fix it.” Nobody thinks it is fair.
You go to the new-older house immediately after you close. You wonder why you didn’t realize that it was so close to your favorite store. As you walk in the front door, you see a beautiful window, full of stained-glass artwork, which was hidden by a curtain before. As you continue to walk through, you notice the stained and dirty carpet, decide to look at what is underneath, and are amazed by hardwood floors which are even more elegant than those in the other house. There are only 3 bedrooms but two of them have adjoining bathrooms with awesome claw-foot, porcelain tubs which are very deep, and you can’t wait to soak in them.
You begin to realize what made you like this house initially. There is sweet character here. It is unique. There are rooms attached to rooms and many hidden spaces that you never expected to see. This house will need work and there are things about it that aren’t quite “perfect,” but you kind of like the imperfections; they add to the personality of the house. You immediately develop pride and love for this house because it is yours, imperfections, beauty, character, and all.
You can’t wait to tell those you care for how much you love your new home. You want to show it off to everyone and let them know how very excited you are. You don’t want to feel sadness anymore; you love this house and wouldn’t have it any other way. The other house would have been nice too but the one you were given will bring you just as much joy so there is no need for condolences. This home is where you belong, you know it, accept it, and love it. You will be happy here and look forward to the experiences you will have within its walls.
Finally you find THE house. The location is great. It has 5 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, hardwood floors, and one entire wall is a giant window showing the most breath-taking view that you have ever seen.
Everyone you know is happy for you and your new house. You can’t wait to move in.
On the day you are scheduled to close, you receive a call from your lawyer explaining that the homeowners changed their minds and have decided not to sell.
You are shocked and sad. You have planned, waited, and prepared for this house, but now it is gone. You picked out new paint colors and decorated it in your mind at least a million times. You wonder, “How could this happen to me?” You think you will never find your perfect house again.
You remember a cute little house in the city that you walked through a few months earlier. There was something about that house which was comforting when you were there, and the need for a home of your own is still strong. You decide to put an offer in for this house. Your bid is accepted. You move in within weeks.
When you tell everyone about the loss of your “perfect” house and plans for moving into the second one, you receive many condolences. Everyone is sad for you and all of your friends and family wish they could “fix it.” Nobody thinks it is fair.
You go to the new-older house immediately after you close. You wonder why you didn’t realize that it was so close to your favorite store. As you walk in the front door, you see a beautiful window, full of stained-glass artwork, which was hidden by a curtain before. As you continue to walk through, you notice the stained and dirty carpet, decide to look at what is underneath, and are amazed by hardwood floors which are even more elegant than those in the other house. There are only 3 bedrooms but two of them have adjoining bathrooms with awesome claw-foot, porcelain tubs which are very deep, and you can’t wait to soak in them.
You begin to realize what made you like this house initially. There is sweet character here. It is unique. There are rooms attached to rooms and many hidden spaces that you never expected to see. This house will need work and there are things about it that aren’t quite “perfect,” but you kind of like the imperfections; they add to the personality of the house. You immediately develop pride and love for this house because it is yours, imperfections, beauty, character, and all.
You can’t wait to tell those you care for how much you love your new home. You want to show it off to everyone and let them know how very excited you are. You don’t want to feel sadness anymore; you love this house and wouldn’t have it any other way. The other house would have been nice too but the one you were given will bring you just as much joy so there is no need for condolences. This home is where you belong, you know it, accept it, and love it. You will be happy here and look forward to the experiences you will have within its walls.
Wow, I literally could not have said it better myself. Her "sweet charm." Doesn't that describe her perfectly? And I admit that I do kind of like showing her off. I do like that I have something that most people don't have. Yes, she has her challenges, but they are worth it to have this unique beauty in my life. No need to feel sorry for me! Feel sorry for those that can't see it!
