Time!

I’m making the leap to self hosted!

For this reason, I may not post for a few days while I make the transfer… fear not! I love you, my dear readers, and I hope that making this change will help me bring you MORE! Giveaways… to be exact! …and that it will be as seamless as I’m told it will be!

Sadly, Marvelous Monday post will not make it this week, BUT there will be a Delaware update with some of the most adorable pictures ever next week! I don’t want to miss what I am thankful for, so please know that  it’s YOU! Thank you for sticking with me… I’ll see you on the other side ❤

To tide you over… this is my FAVORITE picture from Addie’s birthday party in Rhode Island. Yes, it’s the most adorable picture you’ve ever seen 🙂

SUGAR RUSH!

Firsts…

Addie will be one. I’m not ready. I’m not ready for all the firsts to be old, and seconds and thirds to become routine. I’m not ready for her sweet breath’s transition into morning breath. I’m not ready for her to take the spoon from me to feed herself. I’m not ready for her to let go of my fingers and take her first steps. I’m not ready to admit that those 9 months it was going to take me to lose all the weight is now teetering on 13 months. Mostly, I’m not ready for my baby to be a toddler…

There are still some firsts coming, I know that. Lucky for me, we got to have a first with some of our best friends at Roger Williams Park Zoo and it was amazing!

Chillin’

Checking out the giraffes

❤

My baby standing!

!!!!!

Cutey-bootie ❤

Miss Avery Fontaine!

Seeing all there is to see

Addie’s first photobooth!

No matter what these next few years bring, I will cherish this first year and all the firsts still left to come!

Marvelous Monday

Sorry for the late Marvelous Monday post! It was quite the weekend here… thus I will be brief!

This week I am thankful to be a part of such an amazing group of women. I am a Rhody Blogger, and there is a smaller group I support called the Rhody Bloggers for Good– they are amazing women. Truly inspiring. This weekend they hosted (with La-Z-Boy Warwick) a sit-a-thon for Belle Bradley, who is battling cancer and her mom, Melissa- who is battling not just Belle’s illness, but the medical bills associated with the disease. I was blessed to be a part of the festivities, donating things to the yard sale and sitting for a few hours tweeting, instagram-ing and Facebook-ing the event. Together, $10,000 were raised to help the Bradley family!

From Rhody Bloggers

My dwarfism fact of the week brings up our week ahead! Many children with dwarfism see genetic and orthopedic specialists, among many other types- there are very few to actually specialize in skeletal dysplasia, however. In Addie’s case, we drive over 300 miles each way to see Dr. Bober and Dr. MacKenzie for genetics and orthopedics, respectively. It’s a lot of driving, and we do it twice a year- but at least it’s not a flight away- and we are so thankful that Addie has the best care possible from two of the most amazing doctors. There are many children out there who have to travel much further than we do, or don’t have any access to a specialist at all. For all we have and all the properly trained doctors we have, we are so blessed! We are heading to Delaware this week, in fact!

Lastly, my random of the week: With my baby girl coming up on one year, it’s amazing to see her growing into her own person, but also taking on traits of both Dave and myself. Here she is doing her first instructional vlog on how to blog and her first typed piece below! It feels good to have such a talented baby!

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Have a beautiful week!!!

LTYM

So… as I’m sure many gathered, I was not chosen to be a presenter at Providence’s inaugural Listen to Your Mother show. Instead, I am still choosing to participate. I will be going to support some of my favorite friends and bloggers as they share their stories and undoubtedly make me laugh, cry and reflect on life as a woman, a mom and a wife. HERE is the announcement post!

Because I wasn’t selected to read, I will share my piece here with you now. It may seem familiar, as it is a brief edited and slightly different version of my first post.

I’m not sure where to begin. I could go back to camping.  That amazing 2-days my husband, Dave, and I spent in Maine, creating our beautiful daughter.  It wasn’t really romantic, but it got our minds off of the previous 6-week troublesome time, which began with an early pregnancy miscarriage- often referred to as a chemical pregnancy.  In the weeks following, when the cramping eased, and the doctor reminded me that we could try again right away, we knew we needed a weekend away.  With our handsome puppy at doggie daycare, we took off to Wells, Maine.

It was a beautiful weekend.  And we made Addie.

A few weeks after we got back, I got a faint line and after watching the timer flash for 3 minutes “PREGNANT” popped up on the digital screen.  Excited, but scared to repeat the past, I tried to hide my findings from my husband; but, a few hours after he went to work, I texted a picture of the test to him.

***

Hearing her heartbeat was the most beautiful music ever created.  Rapid and deep, hearing her life beginning in me was one of the best days of my life, and over the following months, I took the tests, ate well, gaining only 26 pounds, and was then blessed with a beautiful, but long, delivery at 38 weeks, 5 days.

A clear-lunged Adelaide Eileen came into the world April 17, 2012 at 10:32am at 7 pounds, 7 ounces and 18 inches long.

18 inches is in the 5^th percentile for height in a newborn.

At Addie’s one month check up, her head was in the 75^th percentile, weight 10-25^th percentile and height still in the 5^th.

At two months, her head was in the 90^th percentile, weight 25^th percentile, and her height had dropped below 5^th.

I cried.

We left the doctors’ office with an appointment for a fontanelle ultrasound to check for Hydrocephalus and another for x-rays of her long bones.  At 5’7 and my husband standing 5’9, I was unsure how we had such a short baby, but her head was our main concern.  Along with the appointment at the radiologist’s office, Addie left the office with thighs sore with vaccine shots.  Later that night, June 19, 2012,  a fever of 101.5 struck, and was just the beginning.

***

At 7pm, June 21st, we arrived at Hasbro Children’s Hospital in Providence, RI. Addie presented with a mild-grade fever, lethargy and a lack of appetite. She endured hours of IVs, needle pricks, blood draws, a CT scan and four, yes four, unsuccessful attempts at a lumbar puncture.  Without the spinal cord fluid needed to run a meningitis test, Addie was started on broad spectrum antibiotics for the night.

A tentatively negative read was done of her CT, for everything, including Hydrocephalus- a concern due to the rapid growth of her head. Although this brought relief, there was another test we knew needed to be done for her general heath (an x-ray of her long bones), and there was the issue of what was making her ill at the present moment.

***

A call from our pediatrician to the attending physician in the hospital prompted the bones of her body to be x-rayed, specifically the long bones in her arms (upper) and legs (thigh), pelvis, spine and skull, which took all of 10 minutes and we were wheeled back to our room.

A geneticist came to do some measurements. I felt hot and sick. There were tears forming, but, as a mother, I had known Addie was too short for her age. We discussed nothing specific, only mentioning that there could be a genetic anomaly, and that’s why she was called in to look at the x-rays. As the doctor left the room to read the x-rays herself, I held my knees to my chest and practiced breathing.

When she returned, I was cleaning out my breast pump pieces in scalding water. She pulled a chair up to talk. I stayed at the sink, burning my hands in the water. When she didn’t continue her diatribe, I knew the x-rays had shown something. I finished washing the bottles and made small talk. If I never heard what she had to say then she had never said anything. Right?

“After reviewing the x-rays with the best radiologist in Rhode Island, we have both confirmed the diagnosis of Achondroplasia,” Doctor.
“What’s that mean?” Dave.
“Dwarfism,” I said. Blankly staring at something that wasn’t there.

Nurses were sent in to do a blood draw on my 9 ½ week old baby. It took 7 attempts and two days to complete. The conclusive results came back in a few weeks…

The most common skeletal dysplasia is achondroplasia, a short-limb dysplasia that occurs in about 1 of every 15,000 to 40,000 babies born of all races and ethnicities. It can be caused by a spontaneous mutation in a gene called FGFR3, or a child can inherit a change in this gene from a parent who also has achondroplasia. The average adult height for someone with achondroplasia is a little over 4 feet.

The information runs far and is quite plentiful.  In the United States, approximately 10,000 individuals are estimated to have achondroplasia. It affects about 1 in every 40,000 children. However, this number varies, depending on the source. Eighty percent of all little people have achondroplasia. Approximately 150,000 persons have achondroplasia worldwide. The worldwide population of little people is approximately 190,000.

People don’t know what to say- I’ve already encountered that. But if I may be so bold as to make a suggestion, if you don’t know what to say, say nothing.

I can’t say that I’m not scared, or angry, or confused, or hurt. I can say I’m so happy, blessed and in love. Little people live normal life expectancies and can do anything they want.  It’s not a disease. She does not need to be cured.

She cannot ever do gymnastics.  If I said this didn’t hurt me, I would be a liar.  I was a gymnast, and some of my fondest memories are swinging my long and lean body around the bars, sleep over camp and long drives to state meets. She cannot participate in other little girls’ gymnastics parties. But, she can swim- and I look forward to every mommy & me swim lessons like it’s Christmas day!

And here I am. I’m angry.  I’m really angry. I’m so ashamed of myself for, potentially, making life harder for her.  I am, in my mind, at fault. I want to help her be the strong girl I know she is, but how can I do that when I’m falling apart on the inside? I’m angry this will impact her. I’m angry other children won’t get it. I’m angry that people in her family, at least not everyone, will understand and respect and be “ok” with her stature. I’m angry people may point, laugh, call her names, misunderstand her, and hurt her. I’m angry, damn it. I really am.  Perhaps some of my fears are masked by this anger, which I’ve always been so quick to feel, but for now I’ll call it a pure emotion and hope it unfolds well.

As I watched her sleep in her hospital bed, I saw she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. She has my little nose and crooked pinkies, and Dave’s ears and lips.  She is an angel. She’s a perfect combination of the man I will love forever and myself. Maybe she’s not your ideal baby- but she’s certainly my ideal: happy, healthy, with dimples, bright blue eyes, 10 fingers and toes, sweet baby coos, and a sigh that ends with her collapsing on my chest.

In truth, as I wrote this, she was getting better from whatever brought us to Hasbro in the first place; No fever, less lethargic and eating much better. But she was still there. I battled with her being sick and getting a lifelong diagnosis that I’m not sure the right way to process.  I reveled in the good news of no hydrocephalus and the shock of knowing my daughter will be physically different from other children.

I am scared of my reaction to other parents, when they tell me of milestones their children are crossing, as Addie’s motor skills will be slightly delayed. I am wondering what life will bring to her and how I can make sure she has the best one possible- as any parent does for their child.

Over the past few months I have tried to take all the information thrown our way in stride, and remember that some questions will remain unanswered until she reaches a certain age and the universe reveals its mysterious ways.  I’ve contemplated if I had known she would be a little person before she was born, would I feel differently… no.  I wish I had had the time before she was born to process, as it is hard to shed tears when I’m looking at her beautiful face; but I will let my emotions take their course, rely on the love Dave and I share and the information at hand to be the best parents we can be.

And so, I conclude.

‘A’ is for Adelaide and Achondroplasia.

I want to say that my writing is too specific, but I think it has to do with my presentation skills (or lack there of), as well as the fact that the women I know who were selected are A.MAZ.ING. Not just you’re such a good writer, I could never write like that. More like I should never write again because I am a disgrace! I say this in jest. So many of us are not only wonderful writers (and readers), but we are fantastic daughters, mothers, wives, parents, siblings and aunts. We are free spirits, organized and brilliant with all we do (and sometimes, not- but don’t tell).

I will tell my story for a long time… forever, in fact. I will share about my fears and insecurities, because it’s OK to feel that way and I hope all parents know that when they receive any unexpected diagnosis.

I hope to see all the seats filled at the show this year. Buy your tickets HERE and come sit by me… I’ll have tissues with me. And in case you’re wondering… I’ll be back to read another piece next year! I think I can… I think I can… I can!

That Moment

It seems like Crazy Pickle Lady is just too enticing for people to leave alone. In light of that, this post will be both brief and thought provoking (I hope).

I recently (read: yesterday) got a lengthy email from a student (according to their email) telling me that I have no right to expect people to not laugh at or be nice to my daughter, I cannot protect the “real” world from my daughter (just wanted to write that because they inverted their meaning, and I had a good laugh) and that life is “short” and I should be doing something more important.

In this country we have many rights- one is to live freely. Because of this, I approach all people thinking the best about them. Whether you are the homeless person I gave a water bottle to, the woman with a killer bum at the gym or the man who signs my husband’s paycheck- I believe you are a good person until you prove me wrong. (BTW, Dave’s boss is an incredibly amazing man.) We come in all shapes and sizes, from all walks of life, going to all sorts of places. I do not expect the worst from people, as that is disappointing from the beginning. I believe in my fellow human, and I have the right to think that they will treat me with the same kindness and graciousness that I hope to show them. I’m not saying we don’t all have bad days, but if I approach all dogs without fear or judgement regardless of breed, shouldn’t I offer the same courtesy (and expect it) from my fellow human?

About life, I will say this. Life is not short. It is the longest thing you will ever do. From the moment you sprang forth from your mother, you were living and you will not stop until you die. Live each day doing what you feel passionate about- NOT what others feel passionate about. A true waste of time is not being true to yourself.

Lastly, I don’t feel the need to protect Addie from the world (or the world from her- although her cuteness is a lot to handle). But, as a parent, we do what we can to make the world a better place for our kids.

Below is our email exchange (name removed for privacy). I wanted to share so that you can understand what the above is in summation of- including my internal anger being attacked. I never once have shown any anger, as it was a fleeting moment of inner unease. I think we are all guilty of anger at some point- what makes us strong are the actions we take, not the ones that we do not allow to froth over.

Sent: Tuesday, April 2, 2013 12:19 PM
Subject: Seriously?
To Whom It May Concern,
I recently read about your crusade to have a company change the name of its product because you found it offensive. The word ‘midget’ did not refer to a human but rather a type of pickle. It seems to me that you were projecting that term onto your daughter–in that case, who is actually the offender? It scares me that this type of hyper-political correctness is threatening our First Amendment right to free speech. I have a few friends who have Dwarfism and they jointly agree that you are being ridiculous and frivolous in your attempt to raise awareness about the condition.
Let me tell you, the world will not shelter your daughter because she has dwarfism. People will stare and make comments. When I had to use a wheelchair for months due to a severe injury, I received weird looks all the time. The best I could do was to keep my head up and smile and start a conversation. Your daughter will be best served learning to be proud and secure in herself, making no apologies to anyone. That said, she does not have the right to expect the world to consider her needs and feelings.Just like you do not have the right NOT to be offended.
Raise awareness about Dwarfism by productively engaging the public in conversation  and not by some stupid helicopter-parent attempt to shield the real world from your daughter. Seriously, find something better to do.
I will be writing the company to voice my opinion on midget pickles.
P.S. Do you have a conniption every time you see crackers or beans?

Sent: Tuesday, April 02, 2013 8:17 PM
Subject: Re: Seriously?
Laura,
I’m sorry you feel as though this was a crusade and that I don’t respect your (or anyone elses) First Amendment right. I do, which is why I used my right to voice my opinion. I do not represent the dwarfism community- nor did I claim to- thus your friends’ opinions truly have no bearing on me. I have been in contact with many people who appreciate my action (singular- as I only made one video and that was it), and many who don’t. In life, we cannot please everyone. People will, of course hurt Addie’s feelings, as my own have been hurt for different reasons. I meet everyone with a smile and grace, and I will expect the same from Adelaide at all times. We all have the right to feel how we feel, so I’m not sure why you speak to the point that neither Addie nor I have the right to expect people to be considerate. I teach Addie that we all treat others with respect, goodwill and kindness- just as we want to be treated. Though not everyone will be so gracious, we should never expect the worst from our fellow human.
While I appreciate your email, it took a less effective turn at the end… midget is not an innocuous word that is its meaning. A cracker is a cracker and white beans and black beans are just that in their color. Those questions seem silly to me. I respect your reply, if you so desire to send one, but I ask you to refrain from anymore name calling towards me. I am not stupid, frivolous or ridiculous- we are just different and have different opinions.
Thank you for your time,
Chelley Martinka

Subject: Seriously?
Date: Tue, Apr 2, 2013 11:20 pm
Woah there, someone needs to step off the self-righteous soapbox. My point is, words are words. They don’t carry a connotation unless you apply a context. Pickles are not people and I don’t think the word ‘midget’ deserves to be scratched out of the English language simply because you project it on people. It’s an adjective that happened to describe small cucumbers. Time to grow up and realize you can’t child-proof the world for your kid. Like I stated earlier, you might want kindness, compassion, etc., but that does not mean you are guaranteed it. Voicing your opinion is one thing; expecting a company to yield to your demands because you feel offended by a name is quite another.
Oh, and ‘cracker’ can have a very pejorative meaning. So can ‘bean’ and by the way, it has nothing to do with white or black.  It depends on the context.
Just like you think my questions are silly, I think your crusade is ridiculous and frivolous. And stupid in the sense that you have achieved absolutely nothing except a campaign for hyper-political correctness.It’s a two- way street. Your tantrum has in no way improved the lives of people who have Dwarfism. Instead of treating people with Dwarfism as automatic victims, I suggest promoting the normal, healthy, successful people that they are. Heard of Peter Dinklage? A phenomenal actor who just so happens to have the same type of Dwarfism as your daughter. I don’t compare him to a pickle.
I don’t think you realize the hypocrisy of your statement that “we are different.” Indeed we are, and we obviously view pickles very differently. I just see pickles. You see an opportunity to project and express your overindulged rage. Let me enjoy my pickles with the original name printed on them. You don’t have to buy them or even walk past them in store. There, our differences have been resolved.
You might just want to think about growing a tougher skin because if the names on pickle jars are enough to set you off, you are not going to make it through the trials of puberty and adolescence when the time comes.
Life’s too short to focus things that will ultimately never matter. There is far greater suffering in the world that needs to be addressed.

Sent: Wednesday, April 03, 2013 7:11 AM
Subject: Re: Seriously?
I’m not sure why I’ve suddenly become self-righteous in your eyes, and I’m really not sure what article you read that painted my actions as expectant and demanding of change. I just asked, they called me to tell me it was a change in the works.
As we both recognize, will not agree on this subject and we are just repeating ourselves. I think the time has come for me to remove myself from this conversation.
Life is indeed not short, it is the longest thing you will ever do.
Chelley

Sent: Wednesday, April 03, 2013 10:21 AM
Subject: Re: Seriously?
If you cannot fathom how you are being self righteous, you are not very perceptive. I read that you almost broke every pickle jar in the aisle and flew into a rage about the word ‘midget.’
Life IS short for many people, especially children who suffer from terminal illness. You are an unbelievably pompous ass. Are you going to crusade now against Dunkin Donuts’ “munchkins” or protest Tolkien’s use of the word “hobbit?” The truth is, you’ve been dealt a card you’re not comfortable dealing with and the shame lies within you about your daughter. You’re the one who is small. Shame on you. I hope wisdom better serves you in the future, because you are clearly lacking any in the present.
Yes, I think it’s better you remove yourself from the conversation. You’re a new mom and still learning the curve, we can’t expect you to know much about anything.

Yikes! I hope everyone else is having a less confrontational Wednesday!

P.S. My brother passed away after less than 24 hours of life. It was, as I said, the longest thing he’d ever done.
Rest in peace, Jonathan. We got you as long as we were meant to and you lived life to your fullest. 4/8/90-4/9/90 ❤

Marvelous Monday!

So, It’s been QUITE the weekend. I think I am stressed for the next two weeks before they even happen. Don’t you hate when you do that to yourself?! I am combining MM with Mom Before Mom because… well, sometimes life just all comes together in sweet harmony. Read on!

This week I am thankful for my beautiful girl and her power of healing. We had a wonderful visit with the ENT two weeks ago to check on her tubes and they’re doing great! She seems like she is hearing SO much better, but I will have more conclusive, scientific results after our audiology appointment in May. Until then, we are back in the water and loving out new ear plugs- they’re even fun to try and eat!

Which brings me to the Mom Before Mom prompt from All of me Now this week: What was the first piece of music you couldn’t stop listening to? What was the first piece of music you bought?

I am so glad that Addie can hear! I can say that I remember driving my sister crazy when I was about 15, listening to Dave Matthew’s Band over and over- more specifically, Every dog has it’s day every day has it’s way of being forgotten- “Mom it’s my birthday.” What would you say?, and then restarting the song. Ah, the joys of newly made compact discs.

But my first favorite memories of music are the nights after Flyers’ games, when I was half asleep in the back of the car and my Dad put on Oldies 98fm Philadelphia for Doo Wop Sundays. As I drifted off to sleep, knowing that I would wake up in the morning safe in my bed, I listed to some amazing songs like Earth Angel, In the Still of the Night, Sixteen Candles, I Only Have Eyes for You, Why do Fools Fall in Love, A Teenager in Love, Pretty Little Angel Eyes, Life is But a Dream, Blue Moon, Tears on my Pillow, Sunday Kind of Love, Since I Don’t Have You, and my all-time favorite Unchained Melody. These songs all bring me back to a time where I knew (almost) nothing bad in this world existed. Where all evils could be cured by a hug from my Dad.

I want this for Addie. I am thankful that Dave and I can give her the gift of music, and that Dr. G was able to give her (back) the miracle that is hearing. Dave is a very talented musician and he needs to share that with her. I want to give my little angel all the happy memories and related history that comes along with different musical eras. To cherish memories that were both mine as a child, and my Dad’s (him being young in the 50’s and growing up with this music), gives me the “old soul” I’m said to possess. Passing on my love of music is something I am proud to give to Addie and cannot wait to share with her more and more as she grows into her likes and dislikes… or maybe I can wait- if it means NOT having to listen to the same Sesame Street song over and over and over!

* * *

This week, in light of Easter, I’d love to focus my information about dwarfism to weight. Addie had a beautiful Easter shoot last weekend, as a model for one of my wonderful friends, Lynette, owner of Exalt Photography.
Yesterday was Easter and we had a beautiful time as a family! We went to Home Depot, snuggled in, boiled eggs we never dyed, and had a wonderful dinner at my bestie’s house… we also had an Easter basket!

… with no candy or food of any kind involved. Someone made a point of emailing me to tell me that I shouldn’t feel superior just because I don’t give Addie sweets or candy because she’s young and I will someday. My response, quite simply, is OK. I don’t feel superior to anyone for any reason. The feeling that you need to email me to tell me that giving Addie candy and sweets is in some way inevitable is a given, makes me wonder why you are so passionate about this issue. She will have these things, but they do not have to come from our home. In no way does that ever need to happen. Will it? Sure. But I have made a parenting decision- equally with Dave- that sweets and treats will not be a part of our holidays. Instead, we choose books. Addie has gotten a special book for each holiday thus far. Perhaps she will get a special DVD one year, or a specific outfit. But, there are so many opportunities for junk outside the home, there is no need for me to spend my money supplying such things. It is not a judgement on what others do… it is just our prerogative.

With that being said: lots of other children do not have the automatic predisposition to obesity. Not being overweight. Obesity. I am a healhty person by nature. I like salad, I enjoy running and I come from a family of athletic people. While Addie is partly my genetic make-up, she is also Dave’s, who comes from a less athletic family. And she’s also something completely different from us. She is her! Children with achondroplasia have a high-risk for weight issues. I’ve been on a few sites in the last 10 months that have parents asking for dietary tips for their achondroplastic children… their 4 to 7 year olds, who are being placed on dietary restrictions because of their weight. That is terrifying to me. In a world where primary concerns are looks and weight, especially for girls, I am concerned for Addie. I want to give her the right foods now to avoid the issue of childhood dieting (which can have terrible emotional consequences, and often times don’t last) later. If Addie doesn’t have fast food (which Dave and I do not ever eat. Ever.), juices (they’re all sugar) or cake and candy, I won’t be setting her up for failure. Just a bite here and there at home, as regulated as they are, do not account for what she will encounter outside the home. Just a few extra pounds on her will effect her hips (she has dysplasia), knees and ankles, not to mention her spine- in-which she has some minor issues now.

It may seem like we are “hippy-dippy” (as I was recently called and chuckled about) because we have no TV, we don’t ever go through a drive-thru and I refuse to give Addie junk food (she snacks on peas- and rarely her auntie gives her puffed cereal), but I’m truthfully just trying to give her the best start to life as I can. How many play dates will be spent playing a video game or watching a movie (she still has never watched a movie)? How many parents will grab chicken fingers from BK for dinner when Addie gets a ride home? How many birthday parties will have pizza, cake and ice cream? A lot. I want Addie to learn about wonderful raw foods, foods cooked with love and care- prepared with whole ingredients that she can identify and learn to use in her own ways. I want Addie to learn how to play outside in the hot Summer sun, the warm Spring air, the brisk chill and leaves of Fall, and the snowy days in a New England Winter. I want her to like to dance in the rain, the way I do. There wasn’t a reason to be inside (except for lightening and thunder) as a child, and for that reason I am an active, healthy adult.

I guess as crazy as I seem, I am not trying to restrict her from ever having certain foods or watching TV, but I make the conscious decision to not have them in my home (for my sake as much as her’s), and to not spend my money on them. What other people do and all the elements of the world… they’re not something I can control. Addie will make decisions for herself as she gets older, and I will make those decisions for her now, as other parents do for their children. Sometimes Addie will be in the crosshairs of our family values and others. That’s OK! That’s growing up and becoming your own person- acceptance, respect and, at minimum, tolerance of other values are wonderful life lessons. I never ate Big Macs and therefore I never want one. I don’t battle with weight or weight-related illness. It’s just that simple. Many things in Addie’s life are bound to be struggles. With a healthy lifestyle, weight doesn’t have to be one of them.

* * *

My random of the week (of which there are two) is a BIG Happy Birthday to my amazing hubby Dave and his business partners Domenick and Jamez. Their business BSharp has been open for TEN YEARS!!!!! It may not be what keeps us afloat anymore, but it is an accomplishment to keep a business alive for 10 years, especially in this economy, especially in Rhode Island. Just ask Curtis Montague Schilling, also known as Curt, who couldn’t make a business work with 75 million dollars. I digress. Happy birthday, BSharp! I love you, Dave. I am so proud to be the wife of such an amazing, dedicated man. Working two jobs to keep your ladies together means more to both of us than we could ever tell you ❤

Second… IF YOU HAVE DRESSES YOU WANT TO RID YOURSELF OF AND ARE IN THE AREA…

It’s back – Say Yes to the Prom Dress! The Pawtucket Community Partnership Team Against Violence are looking for donations of gently used prom dresses! Make arrangements to drop off your clean and generous donations to make a teen’s DREAM COME TRUE by calling us at (401) 723-3057 by April 12th.

Addie and I dropped off 15 dresses last week

We will pick dresses up from you and make the delivery! It’s so easy to help!

Have a fantastic week, Reader!!!

In Sickness and In Health

I think I should just rename Dave’s business trips as Disaster Weeks.

Something(s) always happens.

This time:
My cell phone miraculously died
Addie got her first stomach bug
…and the night he got back, half of my tooth fell out.

Because I love to celebrate, let me first wish my bestie, Ashley, a happy 25th birthday. As she gets up there in age (NOT), she also gets more and more beautiful. I am so lucky to know her and to have declared her as my sister ❤
My step-dad, Al, is also celebrating his birthday today! Happy birthday, Daddy Al! We love you and can’t wait to see you in a few weeks to celebrate “your” Bambino’s first birthday!

And so, we move on… but not before one of my favorite photos, of course!

This is a picture from the day of my wedding. It was pouring and Al was clearly doing something to get the water out! He may not be my biological dad, but he tries his darnedest to be a father ❤

As I stated, when Dave leaves it seems like everything falls apart! For some reason, my newly replaced cell phone had a screen connection problem, out of the blue, that happened Monday night. Really… it was working, and I left it on my desk as I cleaned up the living room. Then  I went to check the time, and the screen was black with stripes on it- almost like a bar code.

I couldn’t sleep for fear that Addie would have a problem in the middle of the night, so I had time to write an obituary for my phone:

Last night, HTC Incredible died from an unknown complication of being an older android cellular device.
He will be (un)fondly remembered as fritz-y, spotty, unable to commit to being on (or off), having memory confusion and being, in general, noisy for no notification reasons.
He is survived by the HTC Incredible 2, which not only has a bigger screen, but a better rear camera and a new feature upgrade of the front camera, as well. (Perfect for mom + baby selfies) Two will carry on the SD card of Incredible with many wonderful memories, and a great hope and expectation that the new platform has better performance capabilities.
HTC Incredible was buried at the Asurion Headquarters on March 26, 2013. In lieu of flowers, the Incredible family requests you give all other android phones a chance before purchasing the iPhone or one of the 5 family members, who all seem to have mostly the same features, but go up in price.

Because the  last time Dave left we ended up at the doctor 3 times in 2 days, I was terrified to not have a phone- so I packed Addie into the car at 7:30pm and headed to the Verizon store. The gentleman who helped me was wonderful and my new phone was at my house the next day at 10am (and it was the upgraded version!). So… perfect! All is well in the world, right?

Wrong.

After a wonderful play date on Tuesday, a much needed event for us  ladies, Addie woke up Wednesday morning sleeping in vomit. She took a bath and seemed fine, so I gave her a banana and my milk. Her usual breakfast. She seemed fussy, though (very unlike her) and kept raising her arms to be picked up. After picking her up, she promptly dropped her head onto my chest and fell asleep. Not 3 minutes later she picked her head up and threw up all over me. I let her finish and sat her next to me, thankful that she had only gotten Dave’s big, fluffy robe that I was wearing, and her  own pick ensemble… but then it came again. In waves, my poor girl was getting sick all over herself and the bed beneath her. I didn’t know what to do except let her finish. Throughout it she kept looking at me trying to smile, as though she was apologizing.

In the pink robe, pre-illness

I called the doctor. “A stomach bug is going around,” the nurse told me. She gave me guidelines for Pedialyte and told me to call again if there was a high fever or ear ache involved. I hung up feeling helpless and dirty. I could not remember the last time I’d showered and I was already through two outfits.

I learned a valuable lesson that I’d like to share with all parents out there! Put a plastic sheet on your bed.

Before Addie was born, I knew I wanted to do as much skin-to-skin time as possible, so we put a plastic sheet on under the mattress cover to be prepared.In the first few weeks of Addie’s life, she would sleep on my chest, no diaper and we would stay like that for hours. Most of the time, the towel under me was enough, but sometimes, the sheets took a hit. No problem.

With Addie’s illness, we changed the sheets 3 times (I did 11 loads of laundry in 2 days- Thanks Woolzies for making it easier!). You know your child is ill when your bedding comes from all three different sets (one sage green, one cranberry red and the other a grey green)… topped by your shades-of-purple suede comforter. During this mess, I also learned the putting a plastic sheet, cover mattress and fitted sheet on (TIMES TWO) will save you  in the case of accidents in the baby’s crib! Just peel off the top layer  of mess and done!

With Pedialyte, nursing and LOTS of cuddles, Addie was feeling better and was smiling ear-to-ear when Dave got home later that night:

Being mom to just one is a blessing. I know how lucky I am to have had all the time in the world to devote to cuddling and nursing as she needed.

Finally! Dave was home! I was SO going to take a shower… but only after we ate. As I bit into my food, I felt something hard. Ew. There was some bone in my chicken!

Then I ran my tongue  over my back teeth.

There was a hole.

A little back story here: I grind my teeth. I have forever. I blame my parents. Not only do I grind in my sleep, sometimes so loud it wakes Dave up, l but I catch myself grinding my front and back teeth during the day, too. I have woken up with a headache everyday for over 2 months… this is nothing new. I went almost 8 months a few years ago. Stress makes it worse, which I’ve been under a lot (see: CPL), but it’s just a part of me. Even when  I’m happy, I grind.

Freaked out and ashamed of my oral health, I called my Mom, posted on FB to find a dentist, and got in the shower to finally clean my hair! Dave peeked past the curtain, “make an appointment tomorrow, I’ll take care of it.” If there had been more hot water, I would have sat down and cried. I was so tired and my tooth hurt. Why does this stuff have to keep happening? was all I could think.

I got a referral from my awesome friend (and amazing stylist) Sara, who  directed me to Page Family Dentistry on the East Side of Providence. I was warned that they’re not warm and fuzzy, but they know their stuff. I looked them up and wrote the number down- prepared to call in the morning. When I reached them at 8:30 they had TWO appointments for me to choose from the SAME DAY! Because they didn’t have a sliding scale, I was timid, but when I ate my yogurt, a blueberry went into the back of my mouth and I was stung with the worst pain. “3:45,” I blurted.

Addie was asleep when I parked, but as I lifted her car seat I saw her eyes flutter. Shoot. No nap meant she might become a mess at some point. Onward we went! As I approached the door I saw a sign. Of course I saw a literal sign, but a sign too.

Dr. Marc Page and Dr. Lawrence Page.

My Dad’s name was Mark Laurence. Woah. I know, I’m reading a lot into it, but I knew that I’d found my dentist. Plus, as I was leaving, Dr. Page (not sure who is who… I don’t think I was introduced to the guy who bonded my tooth YIKES!) walked past and I saw his jacket said DVC with a ram on it. “Is that from Del Val?” He looked at me. “The Aggies,” I said, “I’m from Pennsylvania.” “Nobody ever knows that,” he said back. We had a brief  conversation. Life comes full circle.

The hygienists were all nice and they loved Addie… who was smiley (of course) and happy the whole time. Even without a nap, she was my little peach as usual. Like I said… I’m not sure who is who, but the man who I saw was amazing. He knew I had no insurance so he bonded the tooth (it looks and feels great!) instead of pushing me to get the (much needed at $950!) crown. He seemed impressed that my 13 year old night guard still fit and offered to trim it for me if I brought  it in Monday morning (he’d have it back by 5pm).

He welcomed me to make another appointment, AND took a look at my last tooth- reassuring me it’s NOT a cavity. Like I said, I grind. My top teeth have actually ground a hole into the tooth. Dr. Page checked my bite and ground down some of the sharp tooth up top for me. And encouraged me to wear my night guard as much as possible.

Basically, I need a lot of basic dental care, which I knew (nothing major- but a lot of it) and is one of the reasons- besides money- that I have avoided the dentist. I have to say, while no one at this office seems like a “hugger” to me, I was not judged or made to feel badly about my lack of dental care. I was warned that the bonding may not last, but that it was better than being in pain and the woman who does all the billing gave me lots of information about individual plans that I could look at for care. I noticed all dental insurance is incredibly expensive, requires a year of payment before any major work can be done and if you do the math and only need a few things it’s cheaper to just pay out-0f-pocket, BUT I really appreciated the time the woman took to explain it to me AND  give me information for me to review.

If you’re looking for a dentist: PLEASE check out Page Family Dentistry– you won’t regret it!

All-in-all, I’m glad I have my hubby. He loves his ladies, even when we are sick and cares for us until we are well. Happy weekend, Reader!

Woolzies Review + GIVEAWAY!

I most definitely had one of those you know you’re a mom when moments the second my wonderful mail carrier dropped off a medium brown box. I had been waiting for whatever in the world dryer balls were, and the anticipation was stretching the laundry basket! My Woolzies  were here and on laundry day! I was super excited for this review because when Addie was born, I’d stopped using dryer sheets and fabric softener due to the chemicals in them that are not only bad for you and the environment, but reduce the absorbency of towels and destroys the fire retardant qualities in clothing. Oh yeah, and my tech-gear I use for running and biking? It’s all kind of ruined from fabric softener. Oops.

I was secretly jumping up and down on the inside when I threw my first load in the washer, patiently waiting for it’s departure to the dryer. (Yes, my basement IS scary!)

My personal dryer dilemmas include these:
Have you  ever gone running and had a thong fall out of your sleeve? I have. Without my dryer sheets, I’d been having lots of moments like my running-thong issue. Another laundry issue: TIME! Why is my dryer ALWAYS behind the washer?! Lastly… chemicals! With a beautiful baby and a sensitive hubby, using “free” detergent and then dryer sheets that have nothing natural , organic or hypoallergenic in them is a waste and causes quite a few itchy family members. Not to mention the dog finds all of the dryer sheets and shreds them throughout the house for me to gather.

Woolzies have solved those issues, single-handedly. The box comes with 6 balls made from 100% New Zealand Wool. They look like white, uneven tennis balls.

Which brings me to an interesting question… have you ever used tennis balls in your laundry? I have never had a reaction to dryer sheets, but when I used tennis balls  (in an attempt to reduce the chemicals in  my life) I got SO itchy! Who knew that tennis balls released harsh PVCs and are made of lots of different chemicals? Now I know! Anyhow, with the six handmade, hypoallergenic balls in my dryer I dried a queen-size comforter, 2 square decorative pillows, and 2 shams in 80 minutes- 1 1/3 cycle- usually it’s two full cycles  and then some. In fact, all of my regular laundry was dried in one cycle, from  the towels to the jeans to the delicates. Sounds impossible, I know. Best part is… WAY less static, however, it was still there. To avoid the runner-thong situation again I added a ball of foil to the dryer as suggested on the information that comes with Woolzies- no more static here! All of my underwear is now separate from my running gear!

My favorite part of the Woolzies: there are no chemicals. None. Besides Dave’s sensitive skin, we want to, as parents, make sure that Addie isn’t exposed to any unnecessary fragrance or chemicals. In part because of baby-sensitivities and also because of her extra baby rolls, Addie breaks out in hives when there is an abundance of fragrance in detergent, washes, and dryer sheets. This is why Woolzies are for us.  As a mom and wife, I want to give my family the healthiest lifestyle possible- that starts with what we consume and touch on a daily basis. Already using a free and clear all natural detergent left me feeling good about the washing, and the dryer cycle solution of Woolzies has brought me much inner-peace. It’s true, a few balls of wool can make a mother’s heart rest easy.

Finally, a simple mathematical equation based on 10 loads per week at 3 sheets per load (30 sheets/week):
A name-brand of dryer sheets are $9 for a box of 160.
I need 1,560 sheets, or 10 whole boxes. 10 x $9 = $90. In one year, I need $90 of dryer sheets.
One box of Woolzies at $34.50 provides 1,000 dries, instead of 3,000 sheets, which is ~19 boxes or $171.00!
1,000 dries at 10 loads per week (520 loads a year) with Woolzies equates to almost 2 years of drying!

The savings over 2 years? More than $300. For real.

How can you get your own box for free?

Leave a comment below mentioning which of the following actions you took and/or why you need Woolzies! (+1)
* Follow me on Twitter (+2)
* Follow Woolzies on Twitter (+2)
* Follow Addie on Facebook (+2)
* Follow Woolzies on Facebook (+2)
* Tweet about the giveaway (mention @martinka and @woolzies) (+3)
* Follow the blog (+5)
* Add my button to your blog (+10)
* Tweet more than one day? (+4) Just comment again!

A winner will be drawn from random.org on April 3rd.

Thank you for entering… I promise you will not be disappointed!

*I received a box of Woolzies as compensation for a review. All thoughts and opinions are mine, as always, and are not influenced by outside sources.

Did someone say Marvelous Monday?

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. ❤

We could be sisters!

Happy Monday, Reader!

Moving on…

How did you choose what to do after high school? Did anyone provide valuable advice which influenced your decision?

This is the next prompt from Carla at AllofMeNow, who is running the Mom Before Mom series that I’ve been writing each weekend. I LOVE these pieces- initially because they allowed me the time to reflect, but now because they give me the right to feel things I didn’t get a chance to as a child.

I had always known that I would go to college. I dreamt of becoming a flight attendant, and then of being a doctor. The doctor thing stuck with me for a while. I was going to cure cancer. My cousin had died at 18 of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and I was going to stop it from ever happening again.

Then my Dad died. April 21, 1998 I had more than just bad dreams to battle, I had the dreams of a child crushed under the weight of fluid filled lungs and a 6’1″ man residing in a cold bed, now housing a 140 pound body. It sounds graphic. It might have been. Regardless, he was gone and I could never face my dreams again.

So… I did what lots of girls do- I tried to find my Dad. I didn’t go around to boys looking for them to be daddy, I dated boys who had strong dads who would protect me and love me as their own. They helped shape me into the woman I became- some offering advice on how to throw a punch, some telling me tales of how to write a good cover letter. It was all encompassing of my father, who would have shown me and told me how to do everything from reducing the swelling on a bruised knee, to building my own computer and how to french-braid my own hair.

You’re wondering how this has anything to do with my post-high school life? Let’s call him Mer. Mer and I had a relationship- he’d graduated from a college in Rhode Island earlier in the year we’d met, that I later graduated from as well. Prior to my application, acceptance, scholarship, over-achievement and early commencement, I was lost. My whole life I was going to cure cancer, but as I moved into my later teen years, I learned to accept the fact that I had no ability to separate myself from feeling. Six years of schooling, grueling nights working on a cadaver, no sleep, little money, insurance risks- all this meant nothing. What stopped me from accepting the obligation I’d laid upon myself 5 years prior to my high school graduation- to cure cancer- was the fact that I could not tell a child they were going to lose their parent.

So, as I held onto my high school job of working in a kitchen and found I loved planning events (I’d even been so blessed as to need to color code and list most aspects of my life), and Mer told me all about Johnson & Wales University, I knew I had my next step planned. Done and done.

It sounds so silly… how I got there, what it meant. I’ve done very little with my degree since 2008- I graduated in 2006. I learned a lot about the non-profit sector, and that’s been helpful… but I was meant to change things. Big things. I wasn’t just meant to plan weddings… which, by the way, I love! I have a wedding coming up in September, and I am SO glad to be back in the saddle (two weddings in two years can make a planner want more more more), but beyond that… I have a larger goal, a longer stride, a destiny to make a difference.

I’ve awoken in a cold sweat more than once, swearing that I was 13 again standing at the side of my father’s bed rattling off a litany of medications and therapies, transfusions and a test for… but I wake up. Before I can hear myself breathing as though I’ve just run a marathon, there is a high-pitched beep in my ear signifying a flat line. They’re all dead. My cousin, my Dad. Thousands of patients I didn’t save.

It sounds morbid, but perhaps it’s what led me to now. If I had gone to med school, I would have been confined to a lab, spending years of my life fighting to cure something I truly believe the pharmaceutical companies don’t want to cure (this is a whole other topic about conspiracy that I firmly believe in). I wish I could know my cousin now- she would be 34… I wish my Dad had walked me down the aisle at my wedding… but who would I have married? Where would I have graduated from? Forget college… I never would have gone to Upper Moreland. I would have been a Spring Side-er. I would have been a normal kid, whatever that means. I would not have met Dave and we never would have had Addie.

Because it’s Sunday, I’ll say it: I chose what to do after high school because I believe God has a plan. Is it the God hanging, bloody on the wooden cross in my Catholic church? Maybe not. Maybe it’s really the Messiah and we’re still waiting, maybe it’s just the idea that something besides our selfish souls and a boy named Mer controls where we end up.

There is a path, and it led me here. To Dave, to Addie, to writing.