Movin' On Up

Sammy,

I want you to know that I'm always here for you.  Moms are kind of important people (thank you very much).  We are a source of great knowledge, wisdom, and infinite love.  Use me.  Ok?  Good.

So, remember when I was feeling so sad?  I talked to my mom...Grandma.  And you know what?  All she did was listen, and then after all the listening, she said one little sentence that somehow made me see everything differently ~ or begin to.  And, I feel like I'm moving back up to where I was feeling before.  Like I said, moms are kind of great. 

Then, the next day, after writing that letter to you, something pretty awesome happened.  We saw Tiffany.  You know, she's your OT.  I'm glad you like her because she adores you.  At least she really seems to.  You were up for your 6 month evaluation, and do you know what?  You rocked it.  We could only do part of the evaluation because Tiff and I were talking so much and you were enjoying the swing so much, so she just kept you on as she worked on your balance.  ANYway.  Did you know that only 1 year ago, one of your goals was to put a small-ish object into a bowl/bucket, hand over hand, with minimal assistance?  A year ago, you didn't want your hands touched.  You didn't want to be directed.  You were a tad challenging, my dear.  But on Tuesday, you took 6 small blocks and put them in the bucket, by yourself! 

By yourself Sammy!!!

I cried happy tears.  I felt like a dork, but I couldn't hold it back.  And then Tiffany teared up too.

You have such a light about you Sammy, and I just know that as you continue to progress and gain better control of your body, you will be able to express what is in your heart.  You have left a mark on this world Samantha Lee.  And you have a bright future ahead. 

I love you so much.  I'm totally smitten.

Mommy

A Mess

Samantha,

I love you.  There is no question about that.  I adore you.  I can't imagine my life without you.  And I know you're molding me into a better person everyday.  I know it.  But evenstill, sometimes my heart aches.  You've been doing so well lately.  You haven't had a seizure since last March (knock on wood) and hopefully that means that we've finally turned a corner with those blasted seizures.  Something seems to be clicking for you recently...a lightbulb has gone off.  You are giving more eye contact, seem to have a desire to DO things, and overall, I just couldn't be happier. 

Except. 

I'm not.

I feel horrible about that.  I know the blessing you are to me.  And, yet, I have struggled this past week more than I have in years.  Seriously.  Years.  I haven't felt this way since you were an infant.  You, in your Samantha fashion, have been waking up way way too early.  The other morning, as I tried to get you back to sleep on the couch, I wished you were "normal."  Oh, it makes me sick to even say that...but it's true.  I wished you didn't have to move your fingers constantly.  I wished you'd stop rubbing your face against my shoulder.  I wish you were able to hold. still.  I wished you would sleep.  I wished you could say words.  Words.  Just thinking about you being able to TALK makes me cry.  I look at this picture, into your eyes, and I know you have something to say.  So...Say It.  I wished you didn't have tight muscles and you didn't have to wear stinkin' braces on your feet that rub against your skin and give you sores.  But do you tell me about it?  No.  I just discover it.  I wished you didn't have the necessity to chew on your fingers, incessantly, leaving you with chapped skin.  I wished.  I wished.  And I wished. 

And then, I felt really bad that I had wished all those things instead of wishing for a patient heart. 

But, that's what I'm praying for now.  I'm not exactly sure why things are hitting me like this right now.  It's been a long time.  I understand that this is probably normal.  But I don't want to be "normal," just like deep down, I'm not sure I want you to be "normal" either. 

Until I figure this mess out, know that I love you so so much.  And all this stuff I wished for that morning, YOU I would keep the same ~ and if that means keeping all the rest, ok.

I'll work on my attitude.

I love you,
Mommy

the best

Sammy ~


I just wanted to make sure you know you're the best.


Love you,
Mommy

you are precious

Samantha,


I'm sorry that sometimes, in the midst of frustration, I forget who you are.  I always remember the obvious -- you are my daughter.  But I tend to forget that you are also Heavenly Father's daughter and I allow my frustration in a situation take over.  This morning, you woke up so early because of your cold I'm assuming, and when I went to get you, help you go back to sleep, you wouldn't.  I was so tired.  I went in to care for you and love you, but after an hour, I wasn't feeling as much love as I was feeling a deep desire to sleep.  I put you on the couch and left in frustration as you cried.  And it's not just that you cried, but you cried as if you were betrayed -- and that breaks my heart.  I still feel horrible about it.

I just found this letter I had written Samantha from back in January.  The thing is, I could write a similar letter to her today.

Samantha,

I'm sorry that sometimes I get frustrated.  Today, while we were doing therapy, you wouldn't cooperate.  I'm sure it's because, well, frankly...who wants to work like that?  It's uncomfortable and difficult.  But when I'm doing the therapy with you, I tend to allow myself to feel frustration that sometimes overtakes me.  I opted out for a bit.  I sat down in the hallway and let you crawl around and do what you want.  Callie was trying to help, but wasn't helping...and I told her if she wasn't going to help she had to leave.  That's fine, I suppose, but it was the tone.....

My letter could continue.  The thing is, each day I will make bad choices, and each day I will recommit to do better.  And, I really believe that as I do that...I'll be making progress. At least I hope so or else my life will seem pretty pathetic.  So I keep truckin', and those dear children of mind still love me and forgive me.  I'm so blessed.

My Problem

Dearest Munchkin,

I have a serious problem. I talk about you too much.  But, the thing is, you fit into every single conversation.  I have to restrain myself from interjecting "Samantha stuff" into my conversations.  Seriously.  And lately, I'm having to constrain myself more and more!  But sweetheart, when you have a face like this....

how can you not consume my every thought?  It's a fair question.  You're a babe -- you good looker you -- and I adore you completely.  You quite simply light up my life (as cliche as that sounds) and I wouldn't replace you for anyone else in this world. 

I love you to the moon and back.  For eternity.
Mommy

Being Different

Samantha,

There will be times in your life when people say not-so-nice things about you.  It makes me sad.  It doesn't seem to bother you right now, but I believe that in time you will understand their cutting words -- you will sense their attitudes.  This may make you sad.

After you were born, there was a time I cried every single day.  I told myself that I would still live my life, go out like I would with any baby.  So, we went everywhere together.  And it seemed like every day, someone would ask me questions, make comments (not always intending to be rude), or gawk (if they only knew how obvious it is).  I would be fine, but when we'd get to the car, I'd cry.  Sometimes I couldn't even make it to the car.  You see, you, Samantha, are so tender to me.  I can't really explain how much I love you.  So, when other people aren't kind, or insensitive rather, it makes me sad.  Couldn't they all see that you weren't so different?  You are a person, a little baby girl.  You breath.  Your heart pumps blood throughout your body.   You are a daughter and granddaughter. 

After a few months of this, I decided that I couldn't live my life that way.  I prayed a lot.  And I came to realize that you are different -- and I became increasingly ok with that.  See, now, yes, you look different than other people.  You are small.  Your head is smaller.  Your hands are tight in fists.  You hold your arms curled tight.  You walk with a staggering gait.  But, you also have a different mission.  I believe that you are here to teach us -- and I'm not just talking about our family, but the world -- to be more compassionate, kind, loving, patient, Christ-like.  That is incredible. 

So when people say something that isn't so nice, just remember that you are different, and that's ok.  That's how Heavenly Father wants you to be -- so to Him, and me -- for now, in this life, you're pretty perfect.

I love you.
Mommy

Smile

Samantha,

Before the school bus comes is a happy time in our house. Not that we're happy that you are leaving for a few hours, but you always seem really happy. Maybe you are anticipating school. I think you really like it there. You like your teacher, Kathy, and the aides, Claudia and Sharon. And they sure love you. A lot.

Most of the time, we wait outside for the bus. We sometimes wait for the school bus inside. When we're inside, you like opening and closing the front door, playing with the shoes (and when I say "playing" I really mean throwing), and playing the piano. You're one talented girl, you know that?

Here are some pictures from a little bit ago. You sure looked cute that day. The video isn't the best, but it makes me smile whenever I see it anyway.

I love you!
Mommy

Do You Know?

Sammer,

Do you know how much I love you? I sure hope so. Tonight, you were such a sweetheart, I just kept thinking, "I love you so much. I just love you so so much." You were a little fussy, so I decided a bath was in order. It has always worked for you. Even as an infant...when you were crying non-stop for the first 6 months of your life ~ that was a real dirty thing you did little girl -- not fun indeed ~ a bath would help you calm down. Needless to say, you had a lot of baths. And tonight was no different; the bath calmed you down. You played. You splashed. You talked up a storm! And then after you got out, you played a little more. About 1/2 hour later, I picked you up, getting ready to put your evening casts on, and you were out...like a light! You fell asleep in a manner of minutes, all curled up into my chest. When you are like that, all curled up into me and calmly sleeping...I could hold you forever like that.

No matter the package you came down here in, you are a pure angel.

I love you so much. I just love you so so much.

Love,
Mommy