Lucy's Dance Recital

I sat in the crowded theater, anxiously awaiting the moment that the curtains would swish back, the music would start, and my beautiful little princess would begin dancing the piece she had been practicing for so long.  Beside me, a squirmy five year old reminded me that she had been sitting a very long time. There was a chill in the air, restless mommy's across the aisles glanced nervously at their watches, wondering how much longer.  And then, at last, the curtains opened to tiny ballerinas sitting nervously on the stage, staring at their dance teacher through the over-whelming glare of oh-so-bright lights. As the song, "April Showers," from Bambi began to play, the familiarity registered on those precious  faces. Some began to sway, others began to cry, one literally tried to crawl off of the stage.  But not my Lucy.  No, despite the anarchy surrounding her, my little ballerina danced.  She danced, and danced, and danced.  One other small tot did her best to stay focused, but she, like the rest became frozen, much like their title character in the proverbial headlights.  Around me, I heard other mothers quietly begging, pleading with their children, "Come on honey, dance! Do it, just dance!"  But their little princesses were too far away to hear and in this case, where there was a will, there was simply no way.  Those little angels were overwhelmed and dancing was the furthest thing from their minds.
Despite the lack of actual dancing in this number, a the end of the recital, these sweet babies were brought back out on stage to do the dance again. Apparently, there was a technical glitch with the lighting and the pre-purchased DVD was going to be extremely disappointing if the girls did not recreate their, uhm, dance.  The second time was perhaps even more devastating than the first. Terrified little girls shrieked, some refused to budge and were scooted into position.  One lone child ran around the back of the stage as if she had just consumed an entire bowl of sugar.  And Lucy?  Well, she danced.  She danced like a pro!  She danced even better than she had the first time! She was amazing! It was as if she were born to dance! I am sure that every mother was extremely proud of her daughter's efforts. There were some amazing pieces, some exquisite costumes, some enchanting numbers. But, at the end of that recital, I guarantee no one's mother was more proud than I was of Lone Lucy's. She was a little star! And while I have also been the proud parent of the shrieking child who refuses to get on stage--and I would have been very proud of Lucy if that is what would have happened this time as well--I must say, it was an amazing feeling to see my child shine up there. We can't wait to get that pre-purchased DVD.

Dancing Lucy! I know lighting is terrible but you can see what my baby is doing--dancing!

(Note to the reader--I am very proud of all of the girls in Lucy's dance troupe!  They all did an outstanding job and I am a firm believer that we should always be proud of our children's efforts, whether they dance or whether they are only brave enough to go out on stage.  To be only two and standing on stage in front of hundreds of people is quite an accomplishment! Way to go girls!!)

With the princesses before the recital.

Has it Been a Year Already?

It doesn't really seem possible that it has been a year since my dad passed away.  Technically, the anniversary is this Sunday, May 19th, but I am fairly certain that he actually died on May 18th, which was a Friday last year.  So, in my head and in my heart, it's been a year ago tomorrow.
For a few weeks leading up to my dad's death, I was constantly bugging Brian about going camping.  I really wanted to be outside for some reason.  I would go out at night to take out the dog and just stare at the lake. The frogs and insects were especially loud, the weather was beautiful.  It was all very peaceful outside and that's where I wanted to be. I haven't been camping since I was a little girl.  Dad used to take us from time to time and I was never really a fan.  But this time last year, that's all I could think about.
The Friday night that my dad died, I took Barkley out, stood and looked at the pond as usual, but I didn't feel right. My stomach was really bothering me.  I had a very uneasy feeling.  I decided to take a bath and see if I could calm down a little bit. But it didn't help. I just had a horrible feeling that something was going to happen to Lucy.  I was extremely worried about her. I know most mothers worry excessively over their children, but this was different. This was a feeling of dread, of overwhelming doom. I just couldn't shake it.
I have had these feelings from time to time in the past.  When I was almost 10, I was sitting in church one day and just had a horrible feeling that my grandpa was going to die. He did a few weeks later and ever since that happened, I've always paid careful attention to that feeling that something isn't right. I often think that, if I talk to someone about it, whatever I'm worried about can't possibly happen, because, after all, I'm not a fortune teller. From time to time, I would get that feeling that something bad was going to happen and I almost always talk to Brian about it. I remember telling him around Christmas Eve that I was nervous about 2012.  I told him that I didn't think it was going to be a good year. He joked that the Aztecs didn't think so either.  But then I told him I felt like someone was going to die that year. I was hoping that, by voicing my concerns, they would not come true. Unfortunately, this time, that was not the case.
For all of my feelings of uneasiness, however, I honestly never saw my dad's death coming. Of course I worried about him, he was getting older and had some serious health problems, but it never occurred to me that we were so short on time.  In fact, I was so obsessed that evening with the idea that something bad was going to happen to Lucy, it never crossed my mind that something terrible was happening to my dad.
My understanding is that he went out fishing that Friday evening, after having returned home from Sienna's graduation.  She never saw him, didn't even know he was there.  He was supposed to go to her house but he didn't, he drove home instead. My brother, Chris, saw him after he returned to Liberal.  He apparently came by the baseball diamond for a bit.  Then, he went home to get ready to go fishing.  As far as I know, no one saw him again until he was found in the pond the next morning by a sheriff's deputy.  My dad could not swim and was always concerned about drowning. I really can't think about how awful this must have been for him. It's too painful to think of how he may have suffered. I just have to hope that the heart attack was quick and that it was all over soon.
The next day, Saturday, May 19th, my mom called.  I was sitting on my bed with Imma watching her play a game when the phone rang.  I almost didn't answer it, but I decided to interrupt Imma's game because my mom doesn't call very often.I will never forget her exact words to me because they completely caught me off-guard. She said, "Levi died yesterday."  I remember every step of the mental process I went through to try to figure out what she had just said.  I remember thinking I had to have misheard her or she must have been talking about someone else named Levi because, surely, if she were talking about my dad, she would have said, "your dad," and she would have done something to prepare me for what she was about to tell me. So, I asked her to repeat herself.  After she said it again, I still had no idea what she was talking about.  My exact thoughts were something to the extent of, "My dad wouldn't die and not tell me about it," which clearly makes no sense, but that's what I was thinking.  I made her repeat it once more time before I asked, "Are you talking about my dad?" By then, my sister, McKinley, was ripping the phone out of my mom's hand and she began to explain the story, or at least what she knew at the time. No one was sure of anything.  I hung up with her and went to find Brian. He was outside. I remember having a horrible time breathing, sobbing, almost unable to talk.  He came in and called Chris.  There were a lot of phone calls made. No one knew where Kelley or Braidi were.  No one knew if they knew. No one knew much of anything.
Even though it's been a year, I still don't feel like I know much more about what happened to my dad that night then I knew that day on the phone.  Since that time, my family has started to crumble.  There's not a lot of glue to hold all us together. I'm doing the best I can but without a patriarch, it's difficult.  My brother, Chris, was outstanding during the whole funeral process and I think this has brought him and I closer together but it's hard to be in the position of oldest male in the family when there are so many of us. I am hopeful that we will all be able to stick together. I know that's what my dad wanted above all else. He talked to me about it often.
He talked about what would happen when he was gone all too frequently for someone who was only 55.  He was very nostalgic those last few years. Now that he is gone, I wish I would have asked more questions. I wish I would have written things down.  I catch myself thinking, "I need to ask Dad about that," all the time but, of course, I can't.
I have learned a lot of life lessons through this experience.  I've learned I'm stronger than I thought I was, I'm older than I thought I was, I'm wiser than I thought I was.  But, at the end of the day, I am, and always will be, a Daddy's Girl.
I often wonder if I was drawn to the pond for those weeks leading up to my dad's death because that's where he was when he passed. He loved fishing and being outside.  Some of my best memories are of him taking me fishing. In the end, he was doing something he loved when he died.  It's just completely unfair that he was so young.
I also wonder why I was so fixated on the idea that something was going to happen to Lucy.  It certainly occurred to me pretty quickly after my dad died that both of their names start with an L. In a way, I feel like he may have made some sort of a sacrifice to keep her safe.  That will sound ridiculous to some people but Lucy talks about PawPaw all the time. Lots of mornings, the first thing she says has to do with my dad. She even points across the room, as if he were there. I'm not saying she's seeing ghosts, but it is nice to think he is looking out for her. He's definitely still an important part of our lives, whether we can see him or not.
This weekend marks the last first--the last time we can say this is the first anything we've done since Dad died. I will be glad to have this year behind me. There have been moments of anger, moments of extreme sadness, moments of despair.  But there have been good moments, too. I have had a lot of support from my friends and family, and people I don't even know.  Those are the things that keep us going and moving forward. Sometimes it is difficult not to dwell on the question of "why?" but our loved ones help us realize it's not the "why?"hat matters--it's the "what now?"
This weekend will not be an easy one. I'm sure there will be moments of tears. There will be moments of celebrating memories of an amazing musician, faithful Christian, sports enthusiast, Civil-War-history-buff-extraordinaire, loving father.  Those are the things we remember most about my dad.  He touched so many lives in so many ways. I can only hope that, when I am gone, half as many people can say I was a positive influence on their lives.  He truly was an extra-ordinary person.

Imma's Unbirthday Party

I've been away for a while because I've been spending every spare moment on Imma's Unbirthday party.  Her actual birthday is not until June 13th but we wanted to have it early so that she could invite all of her friends from school.  I think it went really well!  We had a ton of friends over. The kids had so much fun in the petting zoo and bounce house.  The Candy Bar was also a huge hit.  I have to thank my husband, step-mom, little sister Braidi, and her boyfriend Cristian for all of their hard work the last few days in getting everything ready.   I'm sure I had a few moments of unpleasantness! It was a lot of planning, a lot of prep, a lot of craftiness, a lot of staging, a lot of decorating--and most importantly--a lot of fun! I will let the pictures tell the rest of the story. :)

The birthday girl in her Birthday Princess rhinestone bling t-shirt.

Getting ready to bounce.

One of Imma's best friends and little sister Lucy.

Braidi made a beautiful Alice.

Lucy and Alice, with Grandma looking on.

Lucy is getting tired!

The bounce house was a big hit!

Imma loved the petting zoo, even though she got bitten by a rooster.

Imma loved the birthday cake.

Photo props were a big hit!

Lucy was zonked out!

Pink popcorn boxes and Alice in Wonderland played in the movie room.

A few of the Queen of Hearts table for presents, and the Mad Hatter's Candy Bar from the cat walk.

Alice's photo area.

The photo prop basket with tutus, and the birthday girl.

The Candy Bar was a huge success!

The banner on the mantel reads, "Imma in Wonderland."

The kitchen area where the cake and snacks were ready to be eaten!!

Signs point the way to upstairs activities.

Imma's gorgeous birthday cake.

The banner on the cat walk read, "Happy Unbirthday!"

Cristian and Braidi blew up 144 balloons to line the street, driveway, and decorate the yard.

The sour gummy worms were the first to go!

Braidi made the playing cards banner that decorated the Queen of Hearts present table.

Two of the decorations on the cake table.

A cluster of balloons and pinwheels in the yard.

Imma says, "I'm ready for CAKE!"

Just a few of Imma's friends stopped by!

"Here goat, goat, goat!"

All herded in!

More candy!

View of the table before we set up the cake and "grass."

Another view of the petting zoo.

We waited until our friends went home to unwrap the presents.  Imma got so many wonderful gifts from her generous friends.

This was one of Imma's very favorite gifts!

We have lived in Nevada for almost two years now and we are steadily making more and more friends.  We are so blessed to have such wonderful children in Imma's class and at her school.  The parents are equally kind and supportive. If you've read much of my blog, you know that I believe it takes a village to successfully raise a child, especially one with special needs. We are very blessed to have these families as part of our new village!  I am looking forward to many years of play-dates, birthdays, and get-togethers with Imma's friends.

I'm so glad it's Mother's Day today so that I have a chance to rest! :)

Softball Practice Gets Wild for the Wildones!

Last night's softball practice was the kind that makes me think, perhaps, we should give up--take our toys and go home.  Imma reverted back to the kind of behavior that makes me want to pull all of my hair out.  And when you feel like that in front of a crowd of people, you usually end up sounding like a lunatic. I don't know exactly how crazy I sounded--the other parents were still speaking to me when it was over so I guess it wasn't as bad as I thought it was--but you never feel good about your parenting when you've had to take your child behind a building and give them a stern talking to.
Imma spent the first 35-40 minutes throwing dirt, spinning, throwing rocks (at people), tossing her glove up in the air, crawling around on the ground, covering herself with dirt, spinning in circles, pulling on her coach's arm, basically doing nothing remotely resembling playing baseball.  I finally went and got her, took her behind the concession stand, and had a "come-to-Jesus" talk with her. Unfortunately, the ladder to Heaven must have been slightly short of it's mark because as soon as I took her back to the dug-out, she threw someone's iPad on the floor, knocked over a drink, stepped on someone's bag, and went back to playing in the dirt.  The only new item was the constant screaming of, "No, Mom! I don't want to watch the ball!"
It's frustrating, humiliating, embarrassing, to have your child act that way. And some people will say she can't help it--but she can.  She can help it. She knows better.  She went straight to bed when she got home.  In trying to weasel her way out of a punishment, she said, "No throwing rocks. No playing in the dirt.  Watch the ball."  So, she does know. She just chooses not to actually play ball when she's in the outfield. It's more fun to throw your glove up in the air or see how much dirt you can collect on top of your shoe.
So maybe she shouldn't be playing. But she enjoys batting and she has fun during the games. She doesn't beg me not to take her anymore. She just gets in the car and goes.  If I thought I was torturing her I would let her stop. But I also think there's a lesson here about following through with commitments and giving something your best effort, even if it's not your favorite thing to do.  My parents signed me up for t-ball two years before they finally decided I really did not like it and I didn't want to play.
That didn't get me out of attending baseball games.  Oh, no, if anything, it committed me to many, many more games. Since I wasn't playing myself, I started keeping score for my brother's team when I was nine. Yep, NINE. I was the official score keeper at literally hundreds of baseball games over the course of the next decade.  I even kept score for tournaments and it became a summer job for me. I never said I wanted to keep score, my dad needed a score keeper and $1 a game sounded like a lot of money to me.  I don't think he ever actually paid me, not even once, but that's another story. I guess my point is, when you're a child, your parents have to decide what they think is best for you.  I still think Imma should finish this season out.  She's learned a lot from baseball already, even if she doesn't realize it, and even if we do still have these huge set-backs that make me want to hide under the bed for three months.
What has she learned so far?  Well, she's learned that she can still trust her friends to cheer her on and help her out when she needs it.  She's learned that she can hit the ball--really well--even if she still doesn't remember to run to first. She's learned that having a team to rely on is always better than trying to do something yourself, because she is more than happy to let the other girls field the ball while she watches it roll by.
She's also a great example to other differently-abled children and parents.  There may be other children with disabilities or parents of these children, who are wondering if it is possible for a child with processing delays to play sports. Imma is making it happen, even if it has taken patience and accommodations from her coaches and teammates. I'm sure there are parents on the other teams and on our own sidelines who wonder what in the world is going on, but there are other parents who look at Imma and see their own child, or a friend's child, and they think, "Oh, well, if she can do it, so can my child."
And they can--they really can.  We have our moments of out-right stink-pottedness for lack of a better term. But we also have our moments of glory, when Imma hits the ball and knocks in an RBI or says something hilarious while she's batting and reminds us all that these are just children, after all.
The bottom line is, we wanted to see if Imma could handle the "normal" act of participating in a team sport.  And, while at times it is difficult to say so, I think the answer is, "Yes, yes she can."  She can do it, with support, like most other things she does, and I think that's okay. It's still a victory.
As for next year, don't hold your breath waiting to see if she'll show up in a softball uniform.  We may hold off on that, or never do it again.  So, if you haven't seen her play yet and you want to, take advantage of the next few weeks, cause this comet may never come back around.
Maybe she should play basketball . . . .