Bubbles, Bubbles

This never-ending Winter has trapped us inside for yet another long week. Cabin fever setting in, the girls becoming increasingly antsy, I had to come up with something new for them to do.
Bubbles!
We haven't broken out the bubbles in months! I don't usually like blowing them inside, since they leave soapy, sticky spots all over everything. But I didn't care anymore. We needed something fun to do.
And it was a blast.
Yes. Just a cheap little bottle of bubbles that Hazel got from her Sunday School class kept both girls entertained for a while.
Annabelle had a great time blowing the bubble for Hazel. And Hazel had a great time trying to catch them.
Squeals, giggles, and joy filled the living room.
All because of a tiny bottle of bubbles.
What's better is that Hazel was able to really work on her core strength. Reaching, leaning, and stretching to get the bubbles. It was beautiful.
I had a great time just watching the two of them interact and play so nicely together. These girls absolutely love each other, but it was especially nice to see Annabelle taking the time to patiently blow bubbles to make her baby sister happy.
And she even added a new word to her vocabulary, "buh." Okay. Not quite a word. But when I asked her today if she wanted to do bubbles, she responded with a very emphatic "buh."
Now we are working on encouraging Hazel to stand with her back to the couch, and blowing bubbles for her to reach from a supported standing position. She tolerated this for a little while this morning, but I ran out of bubble solution, and she ran out of patience as I desperately tried to catch the last bit of the bubbles from the container.

My New Normal

Before Hazel's diagnosis, my life was relatively normal. I am married to the love of my life, raising two young girls, just under 2.5 years apart. I stay at home with the girls in our town home in the middle of Suburbia, while he works a manual labor job for 50+ hours a week. We attend church on a weekly basis (sometimes more!), where we are active in ministry, both serving and being served.
Normal.
Then my world was rocked with the word "achondroplasia".
My youngest is now considered a special needs child.
Specialists, x-rays, adaptations, therapy, and her future were being discussed in a serious matter.
I reached out to other parents through social media. I never thought I'd be so thankful for Facebook and Instagram. The other moms I talked to seemed to be so casual about their children's diagnoses. It seemed so normal for them. I went through the "this is the stuff that happens to other people" feeling over and over again. It didn't feel real. It didn't feel normal.
It felt strange. I wondered if her x-rays got mixed up with another child's. Maybe she's just really short. Like, really, really short. I knew though, that those thoughts were untrue. Hazel has achondroplasia. Just like she has red hair. It's a part of her.
In the end, Hazel is still Hazel. Nothing has changed about her. We just got to know her a little better.
And she is little and loving it.

11 Months

10 months, 3 weeks, 2 days to be exact.
That's how long it took for strangers to notice Hazel's small stature.
When we first began sharing her diagnosis with loved ones, we were often asked, "When will it become noticeable?"
I never really knew how to handle the question. I noticed it. Specialists noticed it. Other people in the LP community noticed it.
But now strangers are noticing it. And commenting on it. And asking questions.
We were at our favorite place for lunch, Chick-fil-A as a special mid-week treat. After finishing our meal (rather, after Annabelle ate all her food, as well as half of my nuggets, and most of my fries!), it was time to run, climb, and slide. Annabelle took off ahead of me, ready to play.
I sat on a small bench next to a friend, and put Hazel down to crawl around the floor for a bit.
She scooted and commando-crawled all over the place, as fast as she could. She squealed and giggled the whole time, watching the bigger kids climb and slide. I flashed back to Annabelle at that age. By a year, she was climbing along with the bigger kids, cruising all over the place.
Some of the other Moms who were watching their kids play, commented on Hazel.
"Look at her go!"
"She's quick!"
"So strong!"
"Is she just a peanut? Or just really strong for her age?"
...
There it was.
The height of a 4-month-old, moving around like an 8-month-old.
But nearing her 1st birthday.
"Well, she's almost 11 months."
Suddenly the comments regarding her strength and speed seemed to fall from the air and shatter into a million little pieces. She isn't quick or strong for a typical 11-month-old.
While my eyes never left Hazel, careful that she didn't get stepped on or tripped over by the gaggle of preschoolers around her, I could feel the awkwardness in the air.
11 months old? She should be practically walking by now. She's so small.
"She has a form of dwarfism, so she's very short for her age."
I didn't go into detail about her low tone, or delayed physical development.
I just didn't know what to say.
Yes, she's  peanut. But there's so much more to it than just that.
There is so much to HER than just that.
Hazel is a little comedian. Hazel doesn't let anything stand in her way. Hazel is a very happy little girl.
Hazel is little and loving it!

On The Move

I haven't made time for writing these past few weeks, so I thought I would give a little Hazel update.
She's crawling!

Sort of. It's more like an Army crawl, bear crawl combo. I honestly didn't believe it when I first saw it. I thought it was a fluke. There's no way my baby is crawling already at 8 months!
Sure enough, as the days passed, it became more evident that my little Hazelnut is indeed mobile. I love watching her get up on hands and feet, rocking herself back and forth, finally pushing her little body forward for the toy that is just out of reach. She squirms the right side of her body forward, the the left, and right again. Nothing is safe anymore. Once she reaches her desired toy, she grabs hold of it, and effortlessly flips to her back, bringing the treasure in for a taste.

Just three months ago, she was barely holding her head up. She would only roll over when her neck became wearie, and her head flopped over to one side.
Just one month ago, she was laying on her tummy, bringing one arm out from under her (being supported only by her other arm) to reach for toys.
And now this.
Hazel is a very determined little girl, and I am so proud of her hard work.
Sunday night, she spied a standing toy that she wanted to play with at church. My heart broke a little as I thought she wouldn't be able to play with it.
But she didn't know that.
She wriggled her little self across the room to the toy. There was a spinning rattle piece with colorful beads that was so inviting to her.

She moved closer and closer, until she was almost under the toy.
She reached one arm up, then the switched to the other.
Stretching as much as her elbows would allow, she finally got it!
She laid there, spinning the rattle, watching the colorful beads dance around.
Never underestimate your children.
Never doubt what they are able to do.
Sometimes, it's best to sit back and watch. Let them figure it out.
Hazel is very determined to do whatever she wants.
And Hazel is little and loving it!
P.S. Be sure to check out the Facebook Page for more photos and videos!

Why I Write

When I was in first grade, I misspelled my first word on a spelling test. Dinosaur. I had never misspelled a word on a test before, and rarely have I misspelled a word on a test since that moment.
When I was in third grade, I was given a free-writing assignment. I chose to write about a recent dream I had. I remember becoming so engrossed in the assignment, that the time allotted was not sufficient for me to finish my story.
In tenth grade, I loved vocabulary assignments. I loved learning new words, and writing elaborate, poetic sentences on the white board.
Writing has always been a passion of mine.
But as I got older - and busier - I stopped making time to write. I also felt like I had nothing to write about. I read other blogs and thought, "I'm not an expert at anything. Nobody will want to read my blog."
Because, let's face it, I actually want people to read what I write.
Any other blog I've read is written by experts. Expert photographers. Expert designers. Expert chefs. Expert home organizers. I'm not an expert in any of those areas.
I was facing major writer's block.
Then we were blessed with Hazel.
I realized that my area of expertise is my own home. My own children.
Raising a child with a developmental difference can be stressful at times. Hazel came with her own bag of parental concerns. Is she holding her head up steadily enough? Should she be as physically active as she is? Is her back okay? When was the last time I checked her soft spot? When is her next checkup? Can this concern wait until we see the doctor next? Is that a concern for her pediatrician? Geneticist? Orthopedist? And the list goes on.
In this whirlwind of confusion, I have been blessed by other Mom bloggers who have been where I am now. I have become part of a wonderful community of parents who are going through the same struggles (and joys!).
Social media has been a helpful tool for myself and my family through these past months.
Writing has become an outlet for myself, as well as an educational tool for others (I hope!).
I don't have all the answers. I don't know everything there is to know about raising a child with achondroplasia. But I am learning.
God blessed me with a special little girl for a special purpose. And I'm not about to sit back, and let my gift go to waste.
Through this blog, I hope to educate, bless, and connect.
I am not an expert photographer, designer, chef, or home organizer. (That last one makes me laugh!)
But I am an expert at being Mommy to Annabelle and Hazel.
And that is a good enough reason to write.
Thank you all for joining my journey, and I hope you always leave blessed.

Here's just a fun little picture of me with my girls on Cow Appreciation Day.

Equal Restroom Access For Little People

At nearly 3 years old, Annabelle has become quite the independent little girl. When she needs to use a public restroom, she waves her hand, and tells me, "Just don't watch. I can do it." I stand off to the side, peeking at her so I can help if she falls, or starts taking too much toilet paper. She wriggles herself up onto the toilet, and I take a deep breath, ignoring all the germs she is touching.
That's what soap is for, right?
She steadies herself on the toilet, and does her business. Now for the hard part. One hand on the toilet seat, she leans over to reach the toilet paper, and pull it towards herself. She's almost there.
A wipe, hop, and flush later, and she's done. She did it all by herself!
I hoist her 27-pound frame to reach the sink. She squirms uncomfortably, as I need to do this with one arm around her waist, while I balance Hazel on my hip, mindful of her head, which could flop back at any moment.
Bubbles foam, water splashes, and we are done.
Whew!
I can't wait til she is tall enough to do this all independently.
For the LP community (people with dwarfism), this is an everyday struggle. It's not just preschoolers.

I spoke with one Mom, Chrissy Bernal about this.
Her daughter, Sienna, has a form of dwarfism, called primordial dwarfism. When Sienna was 13, they took a trip to the movies. When they needed to use the restroom, Chrissy was faced with a decision. Did she lift her teenager up to the sink, so she can wash her hands? Nope.
"Normally I would lift her up to help her wash her hands in the restroom, but I wanted to see how she would do on her own,"Chrissy recalls. "Without hesitation she climbed up on the counter and washed her hands."
Sounds legit, right?
Young teenage girl, hopping onto a counter to wash her hands.
Chrissy coninues, "Two ladies were near her and didn't see me. I saw them snicker about her ."
Not only can this be humiliating, it can also be dangerous.
Chrissy saw a need for change, and was not going to sit back.
She started asking local businesses to place stools, or lower sinks in their public restrooms.
What can you do to help?
First, I ask that you consider joining this movement. The next time you use a public restroom, take an extra minute to speak with the manager of the establishment, and ask about placing a step-stool at the sinks.
Second, please take a moment to sign and share this petition for change.

Third, follow the facebook page for updates on the changes that are occurring across the country, and hopefully around the world..
This change is not only for the LP community, but also for young children.

These images were provided to me by Chrissy Bernal, to illustrate a few of the many options available for equal access.

Though she be but little...

She is fierce!
When friends hear about Hazel's achondroplasia, I get a variety of reactions - from curiosity, to sorrow, and everything in between. I know it's only natural to  feel sorry. But you don't have to. In fact, I implore you not to feel sorry. To feel sorry for her, is to suggest that something is wrong with her. I want to tell you this: nothing is wrong with Hazel. Her bones just grow differently than yours or mine. She is not sick. She is not in pain. She will do wonderful things. And guess what? She will also fail in life. Because she is human.
When we got the official word of Hazel's diagnosis, we were not in shock. We were not in denial. We had already done our research, and come to the conclusion on our own, that she probably had a form of dwarfism, and it was most likely achondroplasia. But that's not to say that we never felt the emotions any parent goes through when hearing such news. We were lucky enough to go through the emotions in the weeks leading up to her diagnosis.
The most prominent stage I went through was denial. I had the "this kind of stuff only happens to other people" thoughts. I even felt crazy for thinking my child had achondroplasia. I tried convincing myself that she was just short, and would eventually even out. When I looked at pictures of her big sister, Annabelle as a newborn, I thought Annabelle looked different. Not Hazel. Annabelle was long and thin, with skinny little arms and legs, and long fingers. But Annabelle looked more like other babies. Hazel has always been more plump, with short limbs.
But I never felt soul-crushing sorrow, because I know these two truths: God made Hazel; and God doesn't make mistakes. Psalm 139:13-18 tells us this:

¹³ For You formed my inward parts;
You wove me in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well.
¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth;
¹⁶ Your eyes have seen my unformed substance;
And in Your book were all written
The days that were ordained for me,
When as yet there was not one of them.

¹⁷ How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
¹⁸ If I should count them, they would outnumber the sand.
When I awake, I am still with You.

Wow! That passage is filled with such beautiful truths. I pray that both of my girls cling to these truths, and hold onto the promises of God.
I know that when God created Hazel, and chose to make her different, he did so for a purpose. I am so excited to see what that purpose will be.
But for now, I just know that Hazel it little and loving it.