Tag Archives: mom


This mama finally got a haircut! After holding onto a gift card for over a year, I made the call to local salon Wil.O. With an appointment open on the morning I wanted, I hung up nervous but ready for some split-end help. Self-care activities are not my forté, but I was ready for some TLC, for sure!

Finally, the day was here. I walked into the beautiful, well lit, cozy salon and was offered tea, coffee, water… ooh, la, la. I felt like a queen! As someone who rarely takes time for themselves, sitting back in the chair and getting my hair washed almost made me fall asleep. I have not been so relaxed in a long time. But, the scary part came: cutting the mane I’d been growing for 2 years- the hair that was longer than it had been in over a decade.


#aisforadelaideblog #wilohairdesign #rhodeislandhair

Co-owner, Melanie, asked me what I wanted, sensing my hesitation and then gently took my tresses in her hands and went to work! The freshest aspect of my cut? My part is on the other side! I know that I can change  it back, but it’s sort of giving my scalp a rest. I love it. Just a few inches off have given me a healthy look and the added layers give me some dimension.

As someone who doesn’t have time, and didn’t want to go too short (I need to pull it back for the summer and labor), Melanie really read what I wanted (a significant trim) and made me feel so comfortable about the inches I saw falling. Although getting a haircut is not high on my list of things to do (ever), I know that next time I want to give myself a treat, I will head down for a shampoo and blow out from the lovely Wil.O.

If you’re a Rhody resident, be sure to check them out in Pawtuxet Village- and stop by to see me, too!

I was not compensated for this review… just blown away by the great service and beautiful work!


Filed under Reviews

Adelaide has achondroplasia

Adelaide was born after a lengthy labor on April 17, 2012. She was perfect. Beaming up through eyes that spoke of wonder. We swaddled her and held on for hours. It felt like we could not sleep. She was too much to let go of- her small body (18″) was a ball of cuddles that we’d waited almost 39 weeks to hold.

As the weeks passed, I noticed she didn’t look like the other babies in my new moms group. She was… rounder. She was happy, and a great sleeper, but she wasn’t the same as the other babies and I couldn’t put my finger on it. Each morning as I dressed her, I saw that her clothes fit oddly, and her head struggled to fit in her onesies.

Her head is big, I remember saying to her pediatrician’s nurse as she took measurements at her two month appointment. Addie was 9 weeks… and the ball had suddenly been put in motion.

When the doctor came into the room to examine Addie, she took two looks at the measurements and whipped out her own tape measure. She looked Addie over, asked me some questions, and cooed at her tiny patient.

What was happening? I wasn’t sure. But my stomach was in my throat,

You’re right, she confirmed about Addie’s head. It was bigger, but she was also measuring a bit small. To be safe, the pediatrician ordered an ultrasound of her head and x-rays of Addie’s long bones (arms and legs) to make sure everything was working as they should be, to be performed the following Monday, but we didn’t make it that far. A few hot days later with a lethargic infant and incessant fever, Addie was admitted to our local children’s hospital. An emergency CT of her head was performed to make sure there was no abnormal fluid in her head- this called for multiple spinal taps to be attempted unsuccessfully (and without anesthesia of any kind) to check for meningitis. Due to her high level of dehydration, the tests were lacking enough fluid, and we were left to give her broad spectrum antibiotics.

Panicked, I called my mom (250 miles away) who hopped in her car and started the drive up.

Because the tests were already on the table, while admitted, Addie got her x-rays and ultrasound done. After hearing that her head and brain were fine and there were no signs of hydrocephalus, we were wheeled back to her room to wait. I tried to sleep, to read, to do something, but I was stuck in a whirlwind of what-ifs.

I’d read it all… so when a woman came in who introduced herself as a geneticist, I knew we were looking at something serious. I listened to her introduce herself and say that she just wanted to stop by and check in on us. She was asked to look at Addie’s x-rays… I stopped listening, but then  she stood up, shook our hands and left.

Photo: Dimery Photography

Photo: Dimery Photography

I tried to nurse Addie, who was still having trouble eating, so I resorted to the pump. As I stood at the hospital room sink, burning my hands in the water, I looked up in the mirror to see the geneticist walk back in. I stayed there, forgoing the pain of the water for a minute. The look on her face was a nervous smile, not that of a confident woman. I sat down. I was prepared… but numb. The woman in front of me talked about the x-rays, the best doctors in Rhode Island, thorough examination…

Adelaide has Achondroplasia.

My husband asked what that was, but before he could finish his questions, I blankly said dwarfism.

I cried. A lot. I didn’t know enough about what was happening. Was this why she was sick? Would she be ok?

As it turned out, her dehydration was unrelated. She wasn’t great at latching, the summer was hot, and she had spiked a fever. That was why she was sick. Dwarfism was not an issue here.

In fact, here we are 2 years later, and dwarfism isn’t an issue anywhere. Some things are different- that’s for sure. Addie is a pro at staying still for x-rays, falling asleep with things attached to her head and body (sleep study), she can travel hundreds of miles by car without much issue to get to and from her geneticist in Delaware, and she’s encouraged to climb objects to get what she needs (where as other kids are told not to!).

When I think back to those days in the hospital, the fear and the unknowns, they scare me- how could I know so little about my own child? But they also serve as a reminder that what is different is not bad- difference is something to be celebrated and advocated. Our lives are different from most, of course… but it’s an amazing life. And that’s what means the most.


Filed under Achondroplasia

Life Hacks for Traveling Parenting Moments…

This past weekend we attended our first regional event for our LPA district. While I love eating out, when you’re paying for everything away from home, while still paying for your home (wouldn’t it be cool to suspend your mortgage if you weren’t there?!), that can be a weighty financial burden. So, we did what anyone would do. We packed food and gift certificates- which we used to treat ourselves to dinner!

In our cooler we had:

#aisforadelaide #vacationisntaboutgoingbroke

This stash, plus a stop for a bunch of bananas, got us through 2 breakfasts, a lunch and snack times without hesitation. We ended up treating ourselves to coffee (because we are coffee snobs) as well as a special baked good from a local bakery, Plum Beach Bakery. For $1, their glorified dough boy left Dave and I stuffed! So, while we can’t control the price of fuel or tolls, we can control our food costs with some planning!

Best tip: PACK WATER BOTTLES! Even when you’re traveling and cannot bring a cooler of food (say on an airplane), you can always bring water bottles for everyone in the family. For this trip, we brought enough water so that we would not have to drink from the tap, but when we fly, we bring empty Nalgene and CamelBacks so we know that we can fill them up at a bar (just remember to tip the tender) and board with it!

And what else do we struggle with as parents who want to travel?  Ahh… The dreaded hotel room-with-a-child situation. Addie too big to sleep in a Pack n’ Play and the hotel cribs are often not full size, so those are a no-go, too. A big bed? By herself? No rails? No thanks.

But wait!
Those decorative pillows are not for naught! They are for bed rails!

From The Sea Crest Hotel website (Falmouth, MA)

From The Sea Crest Hotel website (Falmouth, MA)

Using the large cylindrical pillows under the fitted sheet, I created bumpers along the sides of the bed. Addie was able to sleep by herself, safely, while Dave and I watched over her and cringed each time she kicked… knowing it would have been his face, or my back, had we not put what we had at hand to good use. Sharing a bed with your child is a beautiful thing- until the day your child becomes a smallest bucking bronco one has ever seen.

#aisforadelaide #lifehack #hotelhack #travelhack

She only looks innocent. Don’t let her smile fool you.

#aisforadelaide #seacresthotel #lifehack

What travel-hacks have made your life easier? Share below!!!


Filed under Make it, Parenting/Family/Lifestyle


It’s such a simple word.

noun: mother; plural noun: mothers
  1. a woman in relation to a child or children to whom she has given birth

verb: mother; 3rd person present: mothers; past tense: mothered; past participle: mothered; gerund or present participle: mothering; noun: mothering

  1. bring up (a child) with care and affection.
    “the art of mothering”

This is how a book of words, all the words we recognize in the English language, defines the most important woman in my life.

So how would I describe my mother in less than 1,00 words?

She’s a rock when the whole world is on a roll. She’s the person that took responsibility over the lives of 4 other humans when her partner in crime, my father, passed away. She is what a pillar of strength hopes to embody to define itself. She is power. Beauty. Courage.

But she never had to try to be these things. That’s the most amazing part. Life never happened to her. She happened to life.

I grew up hearing: no one makes you feel a certain way.

Which is why I do not choose the love I have for her. It’s just there. It’s all in my heart and soul. It spills out as I bounce questions off her, call for advice or press the right buttons so Addie can hear her Mima’s voice.

I cannot help but love where my heartbeat first originated. I love you, Mom.

Happy birthday.



Filed under Parenting/Family/Lifestyle

Marvelous Monday

What a wonderful weekend- jammed packed with all I am thankful for and all things dwarfism! I have mentioned LPA about a million times, and all the support they offer to the LP community, but there is so much more than that.

There are lifelong memories made by friends who see each other a few times a year. Parents who lament all the silly things that we get that no one else truly does. Not life-altering stuff, but finding shoes that fit, are cool and also comfy. Why moving a faucet can make life easier for your child. How to hem jeans. It’s the same old parenting things we all think about, but rarely do we encounter so many seemingly minuscule things over and over and over.

The best part? When Addie gets into a large group of kids, there are no worries because this community is watching over her- everyone.

This mama may be suffering from serious pregnancy hormones, but when Jackie and Avery (two fabulous young ladies) took Addie’s hands and walked her to their dance circle complete with other girls, and encouraged her to dance, laughed with her and never let her out of their sight, I walked away, took my seat, gripped a cup of ice water and swallowed my tears. My face was hot. My body felt cold.

#aisforadelaide #firstdance #lparegional #2014

My daughter already has an amazing life.

I watched what her Spring and Fall would bring each year, as our District regionals pass by. I saw middle school dances and girlie laughter about things that us parents would just never understand. As I sipped my water, surrounded by women I’ve grown to love in our brief, but powerful 21 months as LPA members, we laughed at my verge of crying.

#aisforadelaide #ladiesnight #LPAspringregional2014

I have an amazing life.

These moments are not forever. We have our struggles. We have some of the happiest moments of our lives without the LPA, or anything related to dwarfism. Being little, or big, or average does not define us. Having such fabulous friends, regardless of distance, giving my child the opportunity to live her life and being guided by those around me. That defines me. There is nothing like knowing that your life changes shape when you let go of the reigns and just live.

With $100 in our pocket and a cooler full of fruit, bread, peanut butter and tuna, we went to Cape Cod. It was our first regional with our LPA district. We got to ask questions. We got to answer a few. I shared a conversation with men and women. Some were my height, some were not. But the conversations were the same. Our kids were being crazy, they all needed to sleep, we all enjoyed the sunset at the banquet, our clothes seemed to be getting tighter as the New England winter ceases to end. I joked with my ladies about this and that. We all ragged on each other, shared hugs, high-fived the  kids.

Being members of the LPA has allowed us to NOT define our family by dwarfism, but to learn in a safe, well educated environment for ourselves, our daughter (and future baby!) and those who will learn from us. To balance our lives between doctors and normalcy, because at the end of each day, I am doing the same as any parent… reading 102 books before bed, watching my child guzzle more water than they consumed the entire day and praying they don’t spring a leak in the night, kissing her cheeks and watching the monitor (sure, I’m also listening for snores and leg movements, but that’s neither here nor there). Addie? She’s just like your child. And me? I’m just like you. Tired, stressed and loving every minute of this crazy, fast-paced thing they call Parenting.

#aisforadelaide #swimming #capecop #seacresthotel #lpaspringregional2014

And my random  of the week? If you missed it before, don’t forget to check out this awesome video below <3 <3 <3 (Yes… I’m a bit excited to share after holding it in for 13 weeks!!!!!)

Happy Monday, Reader!!!


Filed under Marvelous Monday

She’s Genetically Modified Already

When it comes down to it, we spend very little. Almost insanely little each month… but what we do spend, is spent well. Like healthy food for instance.

Addie is genetically modified. She’s the perfect creation from a spontaneous genetic mutation of the FGFR3 gene, resulting in achondroplasia. What she’s not made for, what no child is made for, are the GMOs, pesticides that kill insects from the inside out and the chemicals made to produce expedited growth and thus the demise of thousands (millions?) of animals each year.

Though we could choose cable, or newer cars, faster internet, fancier phones, better clothes and perhaps a vacation, we choose daily living. We choose everyday to be a beautiful bridge to the next, and hold to our beliefs that food is fuel, and though should be enjoyed (of course!) should also be practical; limiting snacks and dairy and eliminating as much added sugars and dyes as possible.

But, I’m not here to give you a lecture… in fact, I just wanted to share a list with you! Many people know what the “Dirty Dozen” are, but very few are aware of the “Clean 15″. While I love shopping organic, we just can’t afford everything to be that way (wouldn’t that be ideal, though?). So, here are the Clean 15 (remember that farming standards change every year, so be sure to check your local area and check the web for yearly updated information):

#aisforadelaide #clean15 #organic #cleaneating #healthyfamily

We are excited for the summer farmers’ markets, fruit stands and farm picking, but also do our due diligence, looking for organic standards and asking questions- not all things sold in pretty, recyclable packaging is organic… and the word natural means NOTHING. Literally, nothing. Berries are natural whether they are sprayed with chemicals or not. Be aware. Make the best decisions you can… and save some money when you can, too! I hope knowing that there is a clean list is just as helpful as the dirty list- I know having some peace of mind while shopping always means a lot to me.

Lots of love and health to you and your family in these last few months of winter,


Filed under Community, Parenting/Family/Lifestyle

Unlearning Worry

I’m that mom person. The one who marches to their own beat and who seemingly contradicts themselves. I was emailed promptly, after my post Monday, telling me to let “it” go. It, I’m assuming, refers back to my disdain for the m-word and my attempts to educate about dwarfism- but that’s neither here nor there. It was the end of the message (all of 4 “sentences”) that struck me: Your (sic) over protecting her.

It was there that I stopped, not just because it was the end, but because I’m not protecting her, I’m teaching her our family values. An example from my childhood dates back to my youth. Remember dead baby jokes? They’re still a very real thing, and most of my elementary school thought they were funny- albeit they didn’t understand death. But I did. I saw a dead child and that child was my brother and I didn’t think the jokes were funny. When I came home crying about what many parents felt were innocent jokes, my parents didn’t expect me to grow a thicker skin, they taught me to make change. The next time someone made a joke, I asked them to stop, I walked away and I refused further conversation until an apology was made. I was 8. And I was tough. Tough- not because I could take it, but because I wouldn’t. You can bet I expect the same from my girl- and all of my children, should we have more.

So, while we’re on the topic of over-protection, here are ways I have learned to unlearn my worry:

1. We don’t have secrets.

None. Nothing is a secret. Why are there things in life that only one other person should know? *crickets*
Secrets imply something dark and foreboding. Sure, little girls share secrets, but I honestly expect my daughter to share those with me- as I did with my mother. Simply, if you ask a child what the secret was, they will share- I’m not aiming to be forceful. On the other hand, if someone does something bad to someone and then wants it to be kept a secret, that just won’t fly. Which is why secrets are to be told to parents. It’s a rule in this house. Surprises are something magical- but with the idea that they will be revealed. If we get a gift for Dave, it’s a surprise for Daddy to be revealed at a later date. Score a goal during the game? Got into first choice school? Having a regret? Share news. Bottling up happiness is just as stressful as sadness- because there is no one to revel in the emotions with. Basically, there are some things we don’t share with the world, but we do not keep secrets.

Sorry to Addie’s future friends- but I’ll know all about who you kissed at the 6th grade dance.

2. No means no.

If I don’t want to hear no in reference to a question, I don’t ask a yes or no question. It really is that simple.

“Do you want to wear your purple hat or red hat?”
“Put your purple hat on, please.”

Giving children autonomy to make decisions about their everyday life is important to me, but if I ask a question that isn’t truly an option, I am only teaching defiance. I am teaching my daughter to fight me when she feels like I am not respecting her answer. And so I ask if I don’t mind a no. If I say something like, “Please put your coat on so we can leave,” and get a, “no,” I put her jacket on, regardless, and explain that it wasn’t a request but a ruling. Do I like her cries? Not really, but this situation happens very rarely. And, yes, I stick to it. I once asked, in the pouring rain, “Will you please put your jacket on? We are late for swim.”
“NO!” And she turned her head and cocked the coyest of smiles, I said, “O.K.!”
After putting my own raincoat on and stashing her’s in my bag, we ran out the door, into the rain and made it to swim. As we were leaving the pool, I said, “Let’s put your jacket on, please. It’s raining out.”
“Waining. Yeah, mama.” Arms outstretching towards her slicker, we’d made progress.

Oh yeah. And no always means no. That last kiss before bed, the one that helps you sleep at night? Make the request, “Give mama a kiss?”
“O.K., sweet girl. Mama loves you. Sleep tight.” *blow a kiss*.

Seriously mind boggling, heartbreaking and crushing. But it’s acknowledging her desires (and I think this is crucial for boys, too). Grandparents, aunts and uncles, friends- all need to be reminded. Of course being denied a hug or kiss is the worst, but a child who doesn’t get the opportunity to control what’s happening to them is horrific. Ever been at a college party and have to push off a guy or girl who just doesn’t get it? It can be scary. Instead of forcing something, let those times happen organically. The moments Addie takes my face in her hands, and says, “kish mama,” the random hugs around my legs, when she wakes up from a nap and says, “wuv oooh, mama,” and the mornings I wake up with a baby wrapped around my back… those are genuine. Those moments mean more to me than attempting to get a hug or kiss from an unwanting child.

 #aisforadelaide by Brianna Smith Photography #amotherslove #nomeansno

3. It’s a vagina.

And boys? They have a penis.

No really. Say it out loud. Vagina. Now say arm. Leg. Head. Knee. Vagina. Ankle. Elbow. Vagina.

This makes a lot of people uncomfortable, I know. Why not call it a hoo-ha, or va-jay-jay, or vjay, or try johnson, pecker or pee-pee? Why? Because that’s not what it is. Somehow we have chosen to name our genitalia something different because we are embarrassed by them, or they are funny, or whatever the hang up is. But it’s another body part. Acknowledge it. So, it’s a vagina, and it’s no different in conversation.

The other night when Addie was pointing to body parts I said them all: “Head, ears, eyes, chin, nose, cheeks- but please don’t hit yourself- hands, fingers, vagina.”
“Butt!” she said.
“Nope. Your butt is back here,” and I directed her hand behind her. “That’s your vagina.”
“Ji-nah!” she squealed, delighted at the word.
“Yep.” And we moved on, “knees, leg…”

No shame. No giggles. Is what it is.

4. Do it. Just try.

If she says no, she is uncomfortable. If she’s unsure, she holds her little outstretched fingers to me and says help. I encourage climbing in appropriate situations. Jumping and running (or wunning as it’s known-as). Understanding what stop and wait mean have changed our lives. She will wait at the top of our stairs while I run down them with arms full of laundry (dishes, towels, bags, etc.). She will stop on the path before stepping on the driveway. Words are our strongest allies in parenting, and using them in their literal sense. Trying new things, as long as our children are comfortable, is a part of letting them go. I’m not always ready for Addie to get down from the couch, or scale the ottoman to get her book, but if she feels she is ready, I trust her (or course, within reason!). Teaching our kids to trust their gut is such an important factor is learning to be comfortable with their decisions, that I would be doing her a disservice to stop her.

Instead of teaching fear of things, I teach her to be aware. To climb to the top of the mountain, but evaluate your height. Check your balance, remain aware of your feet… and that’s not just the literal, but also the figurative. Know your body and your emotions- check in. Are you where you want to be? Are you doing something you want? Are you feeling safe?

These are life lessons that teach independence, not dependence. Imagine if you knew yourself from your toddler years. If you were so in touch with yourself that you understood social situations better. Men could stop telling each other to “man-up”. Women stopped shaming each other. We stopped pawing and groping each other, because we not only understood our bodies, but the ramifications of unwanted physical contact. Imagine if when you said no there wasn’t someone who “knew” what you “really meant” was yes.

Let’s unlearn our worries, by instilling strength in convictions to our children.


Filed under Educate/Adovocate/Make Change, Parenting/Family/Lifestyle

Marvelous Monday 2014!!!!


Now that’s out of the way, onto our usual MM post (thankful, dwarfism, random)… Hold onto your hats. It’s gonna be a long one!

This week I am thankful for the 2 weeks Addie and I have had with Dave. Yes. TWO weeks. We left for Philadelphia on the Saturday before Christmas and we got back to RI the following one. Dave headed into work for Monday and half of Tuesday, had New Year’s Day off, then Hercules dropped some snow on us and Dave was home Thursday and Friday. As he heads into work today, I hope he feels the relief of being back to a schedule.

#aisforadelaide #hercules #newengland #snowstorm2014 #blog #asnowday in the Martinka house

Since his time off I have not gotten out of bed before 9am. Most days, not before 10… and there were a few 11′s in there. True story. I ate a hot breakfast almost everyday. I showered more than twice a week. I dried my hair, by myself. I did my nails, put on a face mask or two, deep conditioned my hair, read half a book, caught up on reading some of my favorite blogs and resumed some semblance of a daily workout. This refreshing end/start to the year(s) was so important to getting my head on straight… and brings me to other things to be thankful for- like the way Dave has changed and his awesome boss.

Spending time alone with Addie when she was an infant was hard for anyone but me- her sole provider of food and the one who understood each cry and sound. Now that she’s (incredibly) vocal, understands requests and direction and eats pretty much anything that’s not nailed down, I find myself alone when Dave is home. Off on some adventure, Dave steals Addie while I sleep to make food, run errands, or read stories in her bedroom. We both give each other the eye in some strange competition of Who Will Be The One She Wants to Put Her to Sleep Tonight. When she’s hurting, Daddy can heal her pain and when she needs snuggles at night, she often begs for Daddy to rescue her from the crib. While it is nice to not have to get up at 4am, I’ve found myself pushed to the edge of the bed, sad. I miss the days she needed me so much.

#aisforadelaide What happens when Dave doesn't work #blog

Then there is the look. The look of peace and warmth. It’s what Dave’s face looks like, even at 6:30am when hungah spews over and over from the mouth of a half-awake toddler into the open space of our room. When she cries waahwaah hungah nanaaah and he hops up and asks, “you’re ready for breakfast, Bug?” There is the look of total contentment. Whatever happens to a woman to feel the love she does for her young happens to a man, too. I’ve seen it first-hand.

#aisforadelaide #blog #weekend

I’m also incredibly blessed that Dave’s boss recognized that his employees come in by train from Boston and from 50 miles away by car, and decided to cancel work before the snow hit. With a few calls and some research, Dave stayed on top of the tail-end of his work week from the safety and warmth (and yet, drafts?) of home. For a job he stumbled upon with a start-up just 3 years ago, his career is blossoming in ways we never could have foreseen.

*  *  *

And so she grows. No really. I just wrote about this on a post of the same name: AND SO SHE GROWS, AND SO SHE GROWS. If you know Billy Joel, you will see my play on words from And So it Goes, and you may recognize the true heartache that comes with watching your child grow up mature. When Addie was diagnosed, we were warned about all the things she would never do and we were told of all the milestones we would miss. We were given predictions about her height and told she had to be on a hard surface always and most toys were a no-go and her balance would be bad… and so on. And after all that, I was overwhelmed and sad. We got rid of bouncers and carriers and sleepers. I found toys that were good for her, but not always mature enough. And I didn’t know where to go. As a new mom to a special needs child, I wish I’d known all of THIS.

But I didn’t, and I wasn’t prepared for a doctor to be wrong. But she was. Not because all babies with dwarfism do walk before 36 months, although many do, or because she’s not as small as I once believed she would be, or that she has decent balance. No. I wasn’t prepared because I got lost in a negative world. I don’t always see Addie as growing up… she doesn’t always gain an up, but she does grow in her intelligence, in her beauty, in her love and understanding and in her compassion. Initially I was worried I would hinder her into a sheltered life- one where I would hide all the bad. And becoming CPL didn’t help that fear. But then I saw. I saw her say “HI!” to everyone she meets, and wave with an exuberant “BYE PEOPLE”, as we exit any given location. I have witnessed her love, as I cook dinner and she reaches around my leg with a hug and a pat and whispers love you, mama so gently into the back of my knee. She loves me, without prompting or pressure, without even seeing my face, she buries her own into my leg and expresses her own emotion.

Do I protect her? Yes. Just as I will put a helmet, and knee and elbow pads on her to ride a bike. Just as many parents do. I didn’t wear knee or elbow pads and my helmet surely did not fit as well as they do now… does that mean my parents didn’t care? Am I just over-protective? Should she never ride a bike?

I could wrack my brain forever. I could worry about all the things you might think of how I parent, or how your neighbor might feel about me, or that dude who anonymously comments on my posts in the most negative of lights. But then, I wouldn’t be parenting, I would be absorbed in my thoughts about everyone else’s thoughts. So, let’s call it a truce. Let’s make a pact.

This blog was started with the intention to education about dwarfism, but if I focus on dwarfism alone, I will alienate myself and you. I will become obsessed, immersed in so many details that I will come to define Adelaide as a person with dwarfism, and not just see her difference as a part of her. I will come to define all people with dwarfism as just that, and if I do that, I will only see myself as a white woman. That will be who I am.  But it’s not. And so, this blog will continue to educate, advocate, spread awareness and push buttons. I will share stories of change and some of adversity. And here’s the best part: I don’t care what you think. While I would love your support and hope you stay to read more posts, what I crave is equality. For my child, for your child. I seek name calling, bullying and fear of the unknown to become a thing of the past. Ask questions- all of them. I want to answer. I want to know your fears so that I may assuage them. I want you to know what terms are accepted to call a person with dwarfism, and I want you to know that you do not have the right to dictate what others feel. Neither do I. On this blog, the m-word will not be tolerated, whether you’re speaking of pickles or humans or anything in between. The word? Midget. And that’s the end. Those are my feelings, on my blog that I write.

So, I won’t judge you, on your blog, should you choose to write one, and you will not judge me.

      emotionally sign here

*  *  *

You’re still with me? I hope so!

I wanted to recap last year’s resolutions (only 3), which I found when I named my resolution post this year: THIS YEAR, I RESOLVE. Somehow I picked the same name, two years in a row, without trying. I guess it’s a series, now!

From last year’s POST:

1. Be nice (to me): Yeah. That. Well… I am better, and I don’t bash myself in front of Addie, ever, but recently I’ve noticed my sweet girl pointing to the scale and saying, “mama.” So, clearly, I still need to work on that. I wish I could take the scale away, but I truly believe it is useful- especially for long runs. I weigh myself before and after to make sure I am not dehydrated. I also check my weight more often than I should, but now I need to be aware of not doing this while Addie is awake. I think this is something many women need to work on, and clearly I am still trying to justify my need for a scale. Regardless, though I am nice-r to myself, in no way am I nice.

2. Know when to hold ‘em: So I still like to fight, but Dave and I are good about holding our tongues and I try to not speak to him in sarcastic tones because I truly do not want Addie to pick that nasty habit up! This is something I am still working on, but I think I will always have to be conscious of my words and actions as I’m a bit of a sailor-mouth with a temper.

3. Earn it to own it: Nailed it! I took time for myself each day to write and came up with 269 posts last year. This year I aim to write posts with just as much heart as ever… and add some time to take care of my fitness goals, too!

So there it is… Monday! I hope you have a beautiful week, Reader!!



Filed under Marvelous Monday

Marvelous Monday… the most thankful version


Filed under Marvelous Monday

I need this more than you.

Dear Adelaide,

I recently found myself purposely skipping meals and denying little cravings (PMS) because I thought that was the best way to lose those few pounds that have crept up since football season started. But as I watched you eat yesterday, you smiled and handed me pieces of your food- encouraging me to have some, too. Your ability to read people is astounding.

I am not doing the job I hoped to as a mother. I’m not showing you that it is important to love yourself- not when I am abusing my own metabolism with binges and starvation. I want to share this with you… because I need to hear it, too:

Love your body. Your curves and folds and wrinkles and curls. All the lines and intersections that make up you.

I write this to you because I am only now learning to love mine. Mima always told me how beautiful I was, but I didn’t listen. I hope you will hear me. I hope you will see your body as I try to see mine… A map.

The softness of my belly where I carried you so tenderly. The definition of my calves from years of sports and dance. The sun spots on my nose from seasons spent outdoors. The curves in my pinkies from Mima’s hands to mine. The red in my hair that comes from your Great-Grandmother, Harriet. My body has battled illness, run hundreds of miles, studied into the night, partied into the morning, played countless games, loved a few men and carried me on my beautiful Life’s journey. The best part? My body gave life to you.

Your body will do many of these things, too. You will be a fighter, a lover and a game player. You will feel hurt and pain and joy and pleasure. From stubbed toes to Swedish massages, booboos I can kiss better and others that a doctor with mend. Your body is beautiful.

Your body is beautiful.

Your body is beautiful.

As you repeat that to yourself, let me also tell you this: your body is yours and yours alone.

Love yourself. Be in control of yourself. And love yourself.
If there were ever enough words for me to tell you how beautiful you are, from the strength of your legs through the beaming smile on your face, I’d say them…

I love all of you sweet girl. And all of me, too.



Filed under Dear Adelaide