Maskus Miracles: Seven!

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Seven!

I have a seven year old. SEVEN. How did that happen?

My beautiful daughter turned seven on Monday March 28th. She came into this world 5 weeks early. Her original due date was May 3rd, my moms birthday. The moment I knew her due date, I knew she was meant to be mine.

It is so amazing to watch your baby become a person. She has a personality all her own. She is defiant, curious, creative, funny, sweet,sassy and everything in between. I have seen her be an observer, a leader, an artist a dancer and an amazing big sister.

I couldn't possibly love her more!

Happy Birthday 3/28/2004

1st Birthday

3rd Birthday

5th Birthday

7th Birthday

2 comments:

UnknownMarch 31, 2011 at 5:47 PM
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UnknownMarch 31, 2011 at 6:04 PM
SO sweet! You have two beautiful and amazing children who have an amazing mom and dad.
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Welcome To Holland

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this…
When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum, the Michelangelo David, the gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome to Holland.”
“Holland?!” you say. “What do you mean, Holland?” I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy.
But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to some horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.
So you must go out and buy a new guidebook. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s just a different place. It’s slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around, and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills, Holland has tulips, Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life you will say, “Yes, that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned.”
The pain of that will never, ever, go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.
But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.