Are we there yet? By there, I mean Wednesday… when Dave gets home from his business trip.
I feel so whiny about him being gone, but the worst part is he’s not in the US, so I can’t talk to him. He is in the UK… it sounds more glamorous than it is- he could be in Ohio and it would all look the same. There is no sight seeing, or time to go out. He goes from the airport to a hotel and to work and back and forth until the last day that he ends up going from Heathrow to Logan, back to his car and home to me! His hotels either have WiFi that costs £4 per 10 minutes, or it’s free and set up really poorly. Either way, he’s been gone since Saturday at 5 and I have yet to talk to him. What I am thankful for, however, are his parents who fed the remaining Cranston Martinka’s last night and sent me home with food for lunch, fresh fruit for the week and a bottle of pinot noir. Sometimes, when the hubby isn’t there, his parents step in for the win!
My usual dwarfism fact really isn’t so much fact as life this week. Many of my fellow humans have been thoughtfully (note: sarcastic) reading about the pickles (still) and sending some of the most vile emails I’ve ever read. I will never share intimate details about them on the blog, but I will respond to one reoccurring theme: “I’ll bet this lady didn’t care about the pickles before her baby was born that way.”
One: Don’t refer to Addie’s dwarfism as that way. It’s so ignorant sounding, I can’t imagine anyone wants to come off as that silly.
Two: I’ve always cared about pickles. They’re delicious.
Three: I never noticed the pickles before, and if I had- YOU’RE RIGHT! The naming on these jars didn’t strike a chord in me, which is why I understand when people tell me they don’t get it. Many often follow up that statement with, but as a parent, I support you. This is educating others, creating conversation, and the more I have shared the m-word and its history and the pain, the more response I am getting- in the positive.
And so, to respond to that… I guess all I can say is: you’re right. Before I was personally effected by dwarfism in my family, I didn’t have the same passion I do now. In the same way that many men don’t care about the fact that many heart medications cause erectile dysfunction and the medications used to treat ED are unsafe for men with heart conditions, until they’re in that place in life. Guess what: I don’t understand why you’re so upset about those medical issues. I’d prefer to live than to get a boner- but hey, that’s just me. I don’t mock, criticize or threaten anyone who has sued, written or otherwise addressed this issue. My point is, evolution happens as time goes on (duh!). When one person is effected by something, whether at birth or 30 years down the road. Whether it’s something they’ve always been passionate about, or they just recently became involved with. Life happens when we’re busy living it- all we can do is try to improve each step and make sure our feet are on solid ground- this is what I am trying to provide for Addie. I want to lay a more solid path for her.
I went into this blindly. Pathetic, I know, but it’s kind of how I fell into Addie’s diagnosis. I have been trying to write about this exact topic. I’m just learning to see and trying to help guide other parents, if that makes sense. In the end, I just want people to know that many POLP (parents of little people) are in this alone, or lonely, at least. Eighty percent of us have no experience in our own families of having a LP in our lives. We aren’t sure of the medical implications, the social interactions that will occur, or how to best protect our kids. We are doing the best we can- just as most parents are. If this whole situation still seems to be just about pickles, I invite you to come back to the blog in a few weeks when I begin the series about name changes. From hotdogs to lacrosse teams- this is a movement. I invite you to join, or honestly, get the heck out of my way.
And my random of the week:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM!
Yesterday my Dad would have been 64. I tried to hold it all together, but around 11pm when I rolled over and Dave wasn’t there, I let a few tears fall on his pillow. Today, I woke up smiling. I have a beautiful Mom who celebrates her day today! She is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met- or could ever meet. She is strong and resilient. She gives herself day-in and day-out to her patients (she’s a family psychologist), and then answers her cell phone when she’s not in session to counsel my sister, two brothers and myself in our daily lives.
I know I mentioned in a previous post that when I grew up I wanted to be me… I also hope to, in part, be my Mom. <3
Happy Monday, Reader!