Wishing

It's sort of been 'a week' and if I don't memorialize at least part of it here, I might explode with whatever this emotion is I'm walking around with.

- Wishing life wasn't so darn complicated. Wishing "services," and "IFSPs" and "regional center funding" wasn't so much a part of my every day.

- Wishing my heart didn't rise and fall with evaluations, funding decisions etc. Hating myself for the fact that I let the worry ruin moments of my life instead of just enjoying every second of my life with my sweet girl and the sweet daddo too.

And just to remind myself of some awesome words of wisdom I need to be reminded of often (stolen/adapted from this blog): Evaluations only tell us what Sammie B is doing RIGHT NOW. (Hell, not even "right now" but rather during that one day, that three-hour testing window); the evaluations say NOTHING about what she will do. And NOTHING about her extraordinary personality. Her magic. On those points, the damn evaluations are curiously silent.

- Wishing EVERY life decision didn't have to take into account the things listed above that are part of our lives. It really makes life oh so complicated.

- Wishing that I had a mama-gut that could be trusted, instead of the 100% certifiably insane one I have (the one that for weeks has been telling me things will be "ok," whatever that means, or whatever life brings our way, but the one that is now getting anxious and nervous about upcoming doctor's appointments . . . like the JH appt in December; and terrified that we'll end up with a "label" none of us want).

- Hoping that if Sammie B ever reads this (or any other "worry" filled blog post) that she'll know that NONE of this is about ANY desire AT ALL to "change her." I adore her. Her giggles, her smiles, her hugs, her fabulous sense of humor; BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL HER. I don't want to change her, not even for a second. I don't want her to be anything or anyone OTHER than exactly who she's meant to be. But (probably like every mother) I just wish wish wish that I could make things easier for her. That in the snap of a finger, I could make it so that her eyes and her body worked a little more smoothly and she could jump up and start exploring her world. So that's really what this is about. Wishing I could make things easier. Like the gut-renching sobbing, my heart feels like its broken into a million tiny pieces kind of wishing.

-Wishing this week hadn't "beat me up" on EVERY single front. Or at least it feels that way. Wishing I'd had more time to retreat from worry and just snuggle with my bean and my hubs. Wishing work hadn't been 100% chaos, because then, maybe I could have.

- Wishing I was home right NOW, snuggling my sweet, perfect, wonderful Bean. Even if sometimes, "snuggling" ends up looking kind of like this: