Sometimes it's a leather jacket, sequin dress, pink cowboy boots and animal print backpack sort of day. Sometimes it's just another #firstdayofkindergarten for a little #rockstar
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Today's Document
Mike Driver

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
we're not kids anymore.
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Xuebing Du
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

JVL
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Claire Keane
will byers stan first human second
styofa doing anything
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titsay
Monterey Bay Aquarium

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@hello-shanasworld
Sometimes it's a leather jacket, sequin dress, pink cowboy boots and animal print backpack sort of day. Sometimes it's just another #firstdayofkindergarten for a little #rockstar
Some people are just born ready. #firstdayofkindergarten #rockstar
My little love... He's wonderfully made and perfect in every way. #dontlimitme
I love life so much that I wake up early and bring sissy along for the ride! #dontlimitme
My Strong Little Woman
Little Big Girl
Shelby: I am NOT a little girl. I'm a big girl.
Grandma: No Shelby, you're three. You are a little girl and you need to listen to mommy and grandma.
Shelby: No, no, no. I'm not little I'm big. I'm a strong woman.
Grandma: You are a strong little girl but you are little now and little is good. You're lucky to still be little.
The next day.
Shelby: Mommy, I very mad at grandma.
Me: Why?
Shelby: She says I'm little! I'm not little, I'm a big, strong woman just like you.
Me (smiling a big, proud smile): You are amazing. You are little but powerful, strong and mighty! And you need to listen to mommy and grandma because we too are powerful, strong and mighty...but we know a thing or two more than you because we are old.
Shelby's confidence is so beautiful. I wish I bottle it. I hope it will last forever. I pray that I'll be able to direct her toward the pursuit of goodness. She is a creature with so much determination that I imagine one day she will be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, or the leader of a small island nation.
Forgiveness Ain't Acceptance
Forgiveness for hurtful actions, neglect, selfishness and drunkenness is tough. I've been wronged and the person that offended isn't sorry. It feels almost impossible to say, "I forgive those actions." Almost.
I am inclined to hold on to the hurt and my rightness in this situation. The problem is that being correct doesn't comfort me. It devours, it strangles and ultimately it would kill my joy. Holding a grudge would be more harmful in the long run than the initial abuse.
The only hope I have is that I've been forgiven so I must also forgive. Because I've been redeemed I'm called to love. Every day I strive toward this goal, to remove my own judgement to make room for God to deliver His perfect judgement.
That said, forgiveness isn't acceptance. I do not need to maintain a relationship with the offender. I am not responsible for his actions. I am a strong woman that refuses to accept that I deserve to be mistreated.
I was created to thrive not just survive.
Fun Little Bunnies
Today I am going to make two little bunnies for my baby cousins. It will be made out of corduroy. On the bunnies there will be buttons for the eyes, beans in it’s heart so they can feel it, And there will be purple fluff in the middle of the ear. And me & each of my sisters got to stuff each of the bunnies. I hope they are great.
Shelby loves the bunny her cousins made ... Thank you!!
The Hooter-Hider
I occasionally experience moments where the planets align and both kids are fed, rested, clean and happy. Brief periods where I've showered, my hair is done, makeup on, I don't smell like spit up and I'm dry and body fluid free. Never been a nursing mom? Dry is rare.
99% of the time the planets haven't aligned.
I'm not making motherhood look glamorous, I'm not even trying to. 99% of the time my accessory of choice is a hooter-hider, a sheet with an adjustable strap that goes around the neck to hide the boobies while nursing. I nurse a lot. I have fat babies because my go-to mom move is to "top 'em off" (thanks Dad for coining the phrase). Whenever Jack looks me in the eye and starts poking his tongue out at me, or if he seems uncomfortable, peeps, squirms, squeals or heaven-forbid cries, I whip one out.
With my first child nursing occurred at home, in the nursery, on the glider, feet up, music playing, with plentiful healthy snacks and water stocked on the end table. I gazed into Shelby's eyes and we bonded. It was a freaking La Leche league ad and I loved every minute of it.
Things have changed.
I'm busy. Very busy. I couldn't tell you what I do all day but trust me, I'm no slacker. Keeping both kiddos fed, clean and entertained is a real, full time job. Also, I'm not in my home. The kids and I are bunking with my folks until our house sells. So is my brother. Here's where the hooter-hider becomes really important. It's still imperative that I nurse Jack frequently but I'm just not cool with my dad and brother seeing my areola. So now nursing isn't private, it's communal and yesterday it became public.
I love the Gap. I work for the Gap. My daughter needed shoes so I took both kids on our first brick and mortar shopping trip. An hour in Jack gave me the eye-lock-tongue-poke-feed-me face, then he squirmed, then he made the full on square mouth scream. In the middle of Gap I donned my hooter-hider, whipped one out and shopped.
I was a mess.
Nursing with one arm, pushing the stroller with the other, instructing my messy little girl to grab only shoes with a "1" and a "0" on them and then put back the rejects. The rule now is that we are only buying shoes she chooses and that she can put on and take off all by herself because I'm missing a third hand even though I do possess eyes in the back of my head.
It wasn't pretty. A well meaning male sales associate asked if he could help me and got an eyeful before quickly realizing he couldn't. Another had to piece the items together with their tags because while I was distracted getting Jack to latch my big kid pulled all the tags off. BUT, it was a success. We needed shoes, I got shoes. The baby needed to be fed and he was. It didn't look easy because it wasn't but I got the job done thanks to my new hooter-hider!
Tiny but mighty!
The News
On December 27th, 2013 the phone rang. That call rocked my world. I was 12 weeks pregnant and had just learned that I was carrying a son and he had Down syndrome.
In a five minute call the genetic counselor gave me a daunting download. He had a 50% chance of surviving. The risk of miscarriage didn’t diminish after the first trimester like other pregnancies. This was especially scary since just 6 months prior I had suffered a miscarriage that could have killed me. She shared that even at full term babies with Down syndrome still had a 50% survival rate. Of those that do make it, 50% would have a congenital heart defect, then there were a myriad of other medical issues. She couldn’t say what his developmental or cognitive delays might be. She reminded me at least five times during the call that I had options.
To be true to myself I had only one option: to continue to love my unborn baby, accept the gift God had given me and literally take each day as it came.
That first day was tough. It felt like I’d been hit in the stomach, the air had left my lungs and my head was racing so fast I couldn’t organize my thoughts. I mourned the future my baby wouldn’t have. I assumed he wouldn’t be beautiful or smart. He wouldn’t graduate high school or marry. I worried about the future I’d have. I thought I’d be burdened for the rest of my life: goodbye travel and retirement, hello financial strain and exhaustion. I cried and cat napped all day. I prayed that the test was wrong.
Then I woke up.
December 28th was a new day. I was still scared but a miracle happened over night. My concern wasn’t for the perfect child I wouldn’t have … it was that I’d loose this child. I worried that my boy would suffer. I also felt proud that God had chosen me to be his mother. I remembered that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me and that God is always good no matter our circumstances. I started to image my future differently. Acceptance washed over me and peace set in. Then something really strange happened, I began to feel excited about the opportunity to learn to mother differently.
My first child Shelby was just 2 1/2 when I heard Jack’s diagnosis. She is an answered prayer. I had longed for a daughter exactly like her. ShelBelle is incredibly bright, beautiful and loving. When she was born it felt like a reunion. I knew her already. But Jack, I couldn’t image what he’d be like. There was no template for this. I didn’t relate to boys and never met anyone with Down syndrome. But I loved him, I wanted him, I anxiously awaited every doctor visit and gobbled up every tidbit of info I learned about him. I prayed incessantly that God would cover and bless us with this child … and He did.
Jackson Robert McGinity was born on June 25, 2014. He was 6 lbs 1 oz, 18.5”. He was healthy. He is beautiful. We are blessed and I am so grateful.