Wouldn't You Know

...that as soon as I took the focus off traditional potty training, my little girl would decide to add her own two cents to the mix.

I put Bridget on her potty chair before her nap today. Her diaper was completely dry and had been for about three hours. She sat there smiling and kicking her feet, but did not seem to be trying to go, so I put her diaper back on and put her down for her nap.

It took me a minute to get situated downstairs and plug in the baby monitor. As soon as I turned it on, I heard her say, "poop" (in a very matter of fact way, like she might have already gone). I headed back up the stairs, pronto. I could hear her little voice as I got closer to her door, "mom. poop. mom. poop" (in a happy, sing song-y way). Oh, this could be bad, I thought. But as I got through the doorway, I could see (and smell) that the coast was clear.

"Do you have to go to the bathroom?," I asked. "Do," she replied, which means Yes, I do in Bridget-speak. The thought bubble above my head: She's stalling...

I put her back on her little potty and she immediately went #1 and #2. We cheered, then she chose and placed a sticker on the potty chair and enjoyed one, teeny-tiny, mini m&m. She then went straight back to bed, happily.

It seems that my little girl has ideas of her own...

Wouldn't You Know

...that as soon as I took the focus off traditional potty training, my little girl would decide to add her own two cents to the mix.

I put Bridget on her potty chair before her nap today. Her diaper was completely dry and had been for about three hours. She sat there smiling and kicking her feet, but did not seem to be trying to go, so I put her diaper back on and put her down for her nap.

It took me a minute to get situated downstairs and plug in the baby monitor. As soon as I turned it on, I heard her say, "poop" (in a very matter of fact way, like she might have already gone). I headed back up the stairs, pronto. I could hear her little voice as I got closer to her door, "mom. poop. mom. poop" (in a happy, sing song-y way). Oh, this could be bad, I thought. But as I got through the doorway, I could see (and smell) that the coast was clear.

"Do you have to go to the bathroom?," I asked. "Do," she replied, which means Yes, I do in Bridget-speak. The thought bubble above my head: She's stalling...

I put her back on her little potty and she immediately went #1 and #2. We cheered, then she chose and placed a sticker on the potty chair and enjoyed one, teeny-tiny, mini m&m. She then went straight back to bed, happily.

It seems that my little girl has ideas of her own...

Potty Training Report #3

Remember this?

It now looks like this:

Even so...it seems that while Miss Bridget is getting really close to full-blown potty training, this week has been more of a trial run for us.

She is showing so many signs of readiness, but is not yet telling me when she needs to go #1...which means that I have had to follow her around trying to guess when she may need to go. And she is going hours between bathroom stops despite enormous liquid intake. While this seems positive, it's actually been very frustrating since she starts going without warning. I have been on high alert for five days now.

(Now #2 is a different story, she just shouts "POOP!" before she goes--or when anyone else goes, or when she--or anyone else--passes gas. Never think you can get away with quietly ripping one, as the boys say, around Bridget. She will call you out, shouting "POOP!" and pointing right at you. So I'm told...)

I am revising my p.t. plan a little. Bridget seemed like she was getting upset yesterday after I kept asking her to sit on her potty before dinner. (She went all afternoon without going and I didn't want her to have an accident while we were eating and not paying attention.) She cried, got up and threw the little potty chair insert across the hall. She refused to sit on the potty chair for the rest of the evening.

We're so not in a hurry and I don't want to force it on her. I also didn't want to not give her a real chance when she seemed to be really ready. I've learned to never assume anything with Bridget, but rather to give her opportunities to show what she is interested in and ready to do. If I don't give her the chance, I don't know how much she is capable of doing.

I am going to keep taking her into the bathroom with me and talking about potty training in the same terms I've always used with her. I am going to put her on the potty chair first thing in the morning, before her nap, after her nap and before bed as a habit. She will sit on her potty willingly, so hopefully this will be a good way to build a routine and to continue her positive "potty training" experience. We'll keep singing and reading and doing all the fun parts, and I'll keep posting here as we move forward.

Wish us luck, and please, chime in if you have advice or suggestions!

Potty Training Report #3

Remember this?

It now looks like this:

Even so...it seems that while Miss Bridget is getting really close to full-blown potty training, this week has been more of a trial run for us.

She is showing so many signs of readiness, but is not yet telling me when she needs to go #1...which means that I have had to follow her around trying to guess when she may need to go. And she is going hours between bathroom stops despite enormous liquid intake. While this seems positive, it's actually been very frustrating since she starts going without warning. I have been on high alert for five days now.

(Now #2 is a different story, she just shouts "POOP!" before she goes--or when anyone else goes, or when she--or anyone else--passes gas. Never think you can get away with quietly ripping one, as the boys say, around Bridget. She will call you out, shouting "POOP!" and pointing right at you. So I'm told...)

I am revising my p.t. plan a little. Bridget seemed like she was getting upset yesterday after I kept asking her to sit on her potty before dinner. (She went all afternoon without going and I didn't want her to have an accident while we were eating and not paying attention.) She cried, got up and threw the little potty chair insert across the hall. She refused to sit on the potty chair for the rest of the evening.

We're so not in a hurry and I don't want to force it on her. I also didn't want to not give her a real chance when she seemed to be really ready. I've learned to never assume anything with Bridget, but rather to give her opportunities to show what she is interested in and ready to do. If I don't give her the chance, I don't know how much she is capable of doing.

I am going to keep taking her into the bathroom with me and talking about potty training in the same terms I've always used with her. I am going to put her on the potty chair first thing in the morning, before her nap, after her nap and before bed as a habit. She will sit on her potty willingly, so hopefully this will be a good way to build a routine and to continue her positive "potty training" experience. We'll keep singing and reading and doing all the fun parts, and I'll keep posting here as we move forward.

Wish us luck, and please, chime in if you have advice or suggestions!

Potty Training Report #2

We are at the start of day three. I've lost sticker count already, partially because we have had quite a bit of success, and partially because everything is starting to run together. Potty training is exhausting! It is all-encompassing :).

So yesterday went well, overall. The morning, again, was slightly better than the evening.

Both days, Bridget did all of her "business" in the potty for the first entire half of the day (pre-nap)! Both days, she went half-in-half-out (each time) for the rest of the day (post-nap). We have not had a full-blown accident yet. (She is napping and going to bed at night in diapers.)

One of our issues has been getting her little underwear out of the way quick enough, so she's running around commando quite a bit. (When she's got to go, she's got to go NOW, as in realizing it when she's already going).

We've been through the same thing with all the kids, but it seems like they were a little bit more predictable. Bridget goes a long time between restroom stops, even though she drinks a ton. So the first day the poor thing sat on the potty chair for about two hours straight. (On a positive note, we have used the time to do a lot of singing, reading and finger plays. Bridget is loving that part, and picking up new things daily.)

Bridget is not yet telling me when she needs to go (unless you count "Oh!" as the stream starts flowing). So guessing when she might need to go has been a full-time job. If she's already sitting on the chair when she starts going, we're good. If she is not on the chair, she freezes, as in scared stiff.

Last night, after sitting in the bathroom for about an hour with Bridget watching a Sesame Street DVD, I got up to put something in the kitchen trash can. She got up from her potty and, as Murphy's Law would have it, started to go standing up. She started yelling and tried to get out of the bathroom right away. She slipped on the wet spot and was sobbing on her hands and knees in a puddle of pee when I rounded the corner.

I tied to console her as I cleaned her feet, then grabbed the paper towels and spray cleaner off the bathroom counter. I had just finished wiping up the wet spot when I turned around to see her standing at the door with our dustpan and brush. She was going to try to clean up the mess. (How cute is that? Cue tears from a tired mommy.)

She did go (mostly) in the potty before bed and again first thing this morning. She is running around sans clothes right now, so I should wrap up this report. I'll give another potty training update on Friday, for anyone who is following our p.t. progress :).

On another note all together, Bridget's newest favorite thing to say is "Aw, cute!" which she exclaimed last night when tugging on the front of her daddy's golf shirt. (She watched as Sara tried on new school clothes the other day. I'd say, "Oh, that's cute!" As usual, Bridget is watching and listening closely).

Potty Training Report #2

We are at the start of day three. I've lost sticker count already, partially because we have had quite a bit of success, and partially because everything is starting to run together. Potty training is exhausting! It is all-encompassing :).

So yesterday went well, overall. The morning, again, was slightly better than the evening.

Both days, Bridget did all of her "business" in the potty for the first entire half of the day (pre-nap)! Both days, she went half-in-half-out (each time) for the rest of the day (post-nap). We have not had a full-blown accident yet. (She is napping and going to bed at night in diapers.)

One of our issues has been getting her little underwear out of the way quick enough, so she's running around commando quite a bit. (When she's got to go, she's got to go NOW, as in realizing it when she's already going).

We've been through the same thing with all the kids, but it seems like they were a little bit more predictable. Bridget goes a long time between restroom stops, even though she drinks a ton. So the first day the poor thing sat on the potty chair for about two hours straight. (On a positive note, we have used the time to do a lot of singing, reading and finger plays. Bridget is loving that part, and picking up new things daily.)

Bridget is not yet telling me when she needs to go (unless you count "Oh!" as the stream starts flowing). So guessing when she might need to go has been a full-time job. If she's already sitting on the chair when she starts going, we're good. If she is not on the chair, she freezes, as in scared stiff.

Last night, after sitting in the bathroom for about an hour with Bridget watching a Sesame Street DVD, I got up to put something in the kitchen trash can. She got up from her potty and, as Murphy's Law would have it, started to go standing up. She started yelling and tried to get out of the bathroom right away. She slipped on the wet spot and was sobbing on her hands and knees in a puddle of pee when I rounded the corner.

I tied to console her as I cleaned her feet, then grabbed the paper towels and spray cleaner off the bathroom counter. I had just finished wiping up the wet spot when I turned around to see her standing at the door with our dustpan and brush. She was going to try to clean up the mess. (How cute is that? Cue tears from a tired mommy.)

She did go (mostly) in the potty before bed and again first thing this morning. She is running around sans clothes right now, so I should wrap up this report. I'll give another potty training update on Friday, for anyone who is following our p.t. progress :).

On another note all together, Bridget's newest favorite thing to say is "Aw, cute!" which she exclaimed last night when tugging on the front of her daddy's golf shirt. (She watched as Sara tried on new school clothes the other day. I'd say, "Oh, that's cute!" As usual, Bridget is watching and listening closely).

Potty Training Report #1

This morning we began potty training...officially. We had a great start to the day. Bridget was happy to sit on her potty chair (and go) right away! We gave her a sticker and an m&m...and put her in underwear to start the day. We had great success early in the day, and what I would have expected later in the day (a few accidents). In total, we added three new stickers to the potty chair today!

Potty Training Report #1

This morning we began potty training...officially. We had a great start to the day. Bridget was happy to sit on her potty chair (and go) right away! We gave her a sticker and an m&m...and put her in underwear to start the day. We had great success early in the day, and what I would have expected later in the day (a few accidents). In total, we added three new stickers to the potty chair today!

You Can Choose

...to worry about everything, second-guess every decision you make, compare your life to the lives of others or to the life you thought you'd have.

Or, you can choose to embrace your life, whatever choices you've made and whatever has come to you by chance.

You can make the choice to be grateful, and hopeful, and to live a life filled with love.

You Can Choose

...to worry about everything, second-guess every decision you make, compare your life to the lives of others or to the life you thought you'd have.

Or, you can choose to embrace your life, whatever choices you've made and whatever has come to you by chance.

You can make the choice to be grateful, and hopeful, and to live a life filled with love.

Birthday in Review (Extended)

On this day three years ago, we were all still at loose ends--literally and figuratively. Separated out of necessity and still reeling from Bridget's diagnosis, we each tried to make heads or tails of what had happened to our "normal" life. We were moving slowly and without much sense of direction.

Bridget was in a hospital, on a ventilator, recovering from surgery to repair an abdominal wall malformation. Her bassinet at home sat empty for too many days.

It was a time of distinct contrast. We were celebrating new life and at the same time were sad for the way we were feeling. We loved our new baby and were fearful for her future. We were elated and exhausted, hopeful and hurting.

I've said so many times before how I wish we could have known, how I hope other new parents can visit here and see how far we've come, how much Bridget has added to our lives.

Sometimes I wish there was a streaming video component to this blog, so others could see how much laughter and light and love she brings to our household.

The other kids adore her without reservation and delight in her every move. Chris and I couldn't be more proud of Bridget, or more grateful for her presence in our lives. She gives us reason, daily, to pause, to think, to smile.

Bridget woke up (too) early on her birthday. I went to get her as soon as she started to stir and pulled her into bed with me. I whispered Happy Birthday my sweet girl, then turned over on my side wishing she would fall back asleep.

Too awake, she sat up in the middle of the bed, then scooted even closer to me. She reached over, brushed my hair away from my eyes and gently kissed my cheek. She sat there, with her little body draped over my shoulder, her face snug against mine, until I started to giggle. The giggles quickly turned to full-blown tears and laughter a little too loud for that early in morning.

My three-year-old lovebug, silly girl, cutie pie, smarty pants, perfect, youngest daughter. What would I do without you?

Birthday in Review (Extended)

On this day three years ago, we were all still at loose ends--literally and figuratively. Separated out of necessity and still reeling from Bridget's diagnosis, we each tried to make heads or tails of what had happened to our "normal" life. We were moving slowly and without much sense of direction.

Bridget was in a hospital, on a ventilator, recovering from surgery to repair an abdominal wall malformation. Her bassinet at home sat empty for too many days.

It was a time of distinct contrast. We were celebrating new life and at the same time were sad for the way we were feeling. We loved our new baby and were fearful for her future. We were elated and exhausted, hopeful and hurting.

I've said so many times before how I wish we could have known, how I hope other new parents can visit here and see how far we've come, how much Bridget has added to our lives.

Sometimes I wish there was a streaming video component to this blog, so others could see how much laughter and light and love she brings to our household.

The other kids adore her without reservation and delight in her every move. Chris and I couldn't be more proud of Bridget, or more grateful for her presence in our lives. She gives us reason, daily, to pause, to think, to smile.

Bridget woke up (too) early on her birthday. I went to get her as soon as she started to stir and pulled her into bed with me. I whispered Happy Birthday my sweet girl, then turned over on my side wishing she would fall back asleep.

Too awake, she sat up in the middle of the bed, then scooted even closer to me. She reached over, brushed my hair away from my eyes and gently kissed my cheek. She sat there, with her little body draped over my shoulder, her face snug against mine, until I started to giggle. The giggles quickly turned to full-blown tears and laughter a little too loud for that early in morning.

My three-year-old lovebug, silly girl, cutie pie, smarty pants, perfect, youngest daughter. What would I do without you?

Birthday in Review (Brief)

We had a wonderful day today! Thank you for all the warm birthday wishes for Bridget!

This afternoon, we met (for the very last time) with our Early Intervention team. We are really going to miss them.

I've been fighting back tears all day today. I'll cover that in more depth in my next post. But I keep coming back to the same thought: How is it possible that Bridget is already three years old and getting ready to head to preschool? Wasn't it just yesterday that I was holding this tiny baby in my arms, wondering what the future would bring?

Well, that future is here...and so are a few snapshots to prove it :).

Thanks again for all the love and sweet birthday wishes...

Birthday in Review (Brief)

We had a wonderful day today! Thank you for all the warm birthday wishes for Bridget!

This afternoon, we met (for the very last time) with our Early Intervention team. We are really going to miss them.

I've been fighting back tears all day today. I'll cover that in more depth in my next post. But I keep coming back to the same thought: How is it possible that Bridget is already three years old and getting ready to head to preschool? Wasn't it just yesterday that I was holding this tiny baby in my arms, wondering what the future would bring?

Well, that future is here...and so are a few snapshots to prove it :).

Thanks again for all the love and sweet birthday wishes...

Three--Happy Birthday, Bridget!

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Three--Happy Birthday, Bridget!

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Preschool!

Just a few months ago, I wasn't even considering sending Bridget to preschool in the fall. She wasn't really walking yet, or talking much, and she just seemed so little. I couldn't imagine other people for caring for her, or having her away from me.

Our Early Intervention team encouraged me to visit the preschool classroom in our local elementary school. As soon as I walked in, my first thought was, Oh my gosh, I am holding her back. By the time of the classroom visit, Bridget had started walking and her spoken language was exploding. She'd started purposefully playing with other kids. Her development had snowballed. I knew she would love the classroom and being with the other kids. I knew she would thrive in that environment.

So the big news...We signed papers yesterday to approve an Individualized Education Program (IEP) for Bridget in our local school system. (See previous post for our Mission Statement for Bridget's Preschool Services.)

Since Bridget's third birthday falls over Summer break, the process to have her evaluated for preschool services was on a fast track. Typically, during the school year, the meetings are scheduled over a several month period. In our case, all of the meetings and evaluations took place over this past week.

We had a home-based evaluation with a School Psychologist and a Speech-Language Pathologist (SLP), and a play-based evaluation (which took place in one of our local elementary school buildings) with a Physical Therapist(PT), Occupational Therapist(OT),the same SLP that came for the home-based evaluation, and an Early Childhood Intervention Specialist (ECI). Yesterday was our our official meeting to hear the results of all the evaluations and assessments, to learn whether or not Bridget qualified for services, and to begin her IEP.

I was so nervous about the whole process. I'd heard stories about children being treated like numbers, parents being told mostly of their child's deficits and delays, and services being denied (even when the parents knew the child would benefit significantly from additional help).

I was prepared for the language of the service system--and the results of the evaluations--to sting. I was prepared for therapists who were more concerned about noting Bridget's delays (by virtue of the goal of the evaluation process--to justify providing services) than they were about seeing her strengths or potential.

I thought I would see that most of the goals on Bridget's IEP would be geared toward making her more like a "typical" three-year-old in the classroom, and that some of the goals would be a bit silly (like to cut "4 snips in paper with scissors on 6 out of 10 observed attempts"--this goal was on a sample IEP).

I tried to remind myself that each situation is unique and that I couldn't head into this process being insecure or cynical. I decided to focus on how certain adjustments, accommodations or assistance might benefit Bridget, and to remember all she is capable of doing at this point.

I knew my skepticism about the process of evaluation, or about the nature of "therapy" (which is sometimes seen as trying to "fix" something that is broken) could get in the way of what is best for Bridget.

Chris and I came up with a plan to survive the transition, to make it productive, and to ease the new system into our lives: we would assume that the people evaluating Bridget were interested in helping her meet her potential (and would understand that much of the process is a formality); we would be open to hearing whatever we were told; and we would place most of our focus and energy on ways to help Bridget be happier, healthier or more independent.

It turns out that our concerns were unfounded. Bridget's evaluations revealed a delay in the following areas: Physical, Adaptive Behavior, Cognitive and General Development, which means that she qualifies for services. Her scores in the areas of Social-Emotional Development and Communication were in the average range. None of this was a surprise. (Bridget will be receiving speech services, as her spoken language is delayed. Her ability to understand--and be understood through signs, words and expressions--is quite good.)

Our team was wonderful: bright, organized, detailed, direct, and kind. We were told several times that they realized we were being given a lot of information to process, and that what the evaluations revealed was a "snapshot" in time. It was what they saw from Bridget on that particular day, and from our answers on the surveys provided, and did not necessarily reflect all of Bridget's skills and capabilities.

The reports were specific, and areas of accomplishment, as well as areas of delay were noted. Things that Bridget is not yet doing, or things that are not even on her radar, were discussed in the reports, but the focus was mostly on her accomplishments and skills that are emerging.

We discussed the IEP her team had set, adaptive and assistive devices they plan to use in the classroom and timeframes for "therapy" each week.

It's clear that the goal of the school system is to help Bridget grow and develop from where she is right now, which is exactly what we had hoped to see and hear.

Bridget starts preschool this fall, four days a week, two-and-a-half hours each day. She will be in the same building with Emmy and Brian. I'll sign enrollment papers in early August.

I know Bridget will thrive in the classroom environment and I am thrilled to have capable, caring people to help her. She is going to love school!

Preschool!

Just a few months ago, I wasn't even considering sending Bridget to preschool in the fall. She wasn't really walking yet, or talking much, and she just seemed so little. I couldn't imagine other people for caring for her, or having her away from me.

Our Early Intervention team encouraged me to visit the preschool classroom in our local elementary school. As soon as I walked in, my first thought was, Oh my gosh, I am holding her back. By the time of the classroom visit, Bridget had started walking and her spoken language was exploding. She'd started purposefully playing with other kids. Her development had snowballed. I knew she would love the classroom and being with the other kids. I knew she would thrive in that environment.

So the big news...We signed papers yesterday to approve an Individualized Education Program (IEP) for Bridget in our local school system. (See previous post for our Mission Statement for Bridget's Preschool Services.)

Since Bridget's third birthday falls over Summer break, the process to have her evaluated for preschool services was on a fast track. Typically, during the school year, the meetings are scheduled over a several month period. In our case, all of the meetings and evaluations took place over this past week.

We had a home-based evaluation with a School Psychologist and a Speech-Language Pathologist (SLP), and a play-based evaluation (which took place in one of our local elementary school buildings) with a Physical Therapist(PT), Occupational Therapist(OT),the same SLP that came for the home-based evaluation, and an Early Childhood Intervention Specialist (ECI). Yesterday was our our official meeting to hear the results of all the evaluations and assessments, to learn whether or not Bridget qualified for services, and to begin her IEP.

I was so nervous about the whole process. I'd heard stories about children being treated like numbers, parents being told mostly of their child's deficits and delays, and services being denied (even when the parents knew the child would benefit significantly from additional help).

I was prepared for the language of the service system--and the results of the evaluations--to sting. I was prepared for therapists who were more concerned about noting Bridget's delays (by virtue of the goal of the evaluation process--to justify providing services) than they were about seeing her strengths or potential.

I thought I would see that most of the goals on Bridget's IEP would be geared toward making her more like a "typical" three-year-old in the classroom, and that some of the goals would be a bit silly (like to cut "4 snips in paper with scissors on 6 out of 10 observed attempts"--this goal was on a sample IEP).

I tried to remind myself that each situation is unique and that I couldn't head into this process being insecure or cynical. I decided to focus on how certain adjustments, accommodations or assistance might benefit Bridget, and to remember all she is capable of doing at this point.

I knew my skepticism about the process of evaluation, or about the nature of "therapy" (which is sometimes seen as trying to "fix" something that is broken) could get in the way of what is best for Bridget.

Chris and I came up with a plan to survive the transition, to make it productive, and to ease the new system into our lives: we would assume that the people evaluating Bridget were interested in helping her meet her potential (and would understand that much of the process is a formality); we would be open to hearing whatever we were told; and we would place most of our focus and energy on ways to help Bridget be happier, healthier or more independent.

It turns out that our concerns were unfounded. Bridget's evaluations revealed a delay in the following areas: Physical, Adaptive Behavior, Cognitive and General Development, which means that she qualifies for services. Her scores in the areas of Social-Emotional Development and Communication were in the average range. None of this was a surprise. (Bridget will be receiving speech services, as her spoken language is delayed. Her ability to understand--and be understood through signs, words and expressions--is quite good.)

Our team was wonderful: bright, organized, detailed, direct, and kind. We were told several times that they realized we were being given a lot of information to process, and that what the evaluations revealed was a "snapshot" in time. It was what they saw from Bridget on that particular day, and from our answers on the surveys provided, and did not necessarily reflect all of Bridget's skills and capabilities.

The reports were specific, and areas of accomplishment, as well as areas of delay were noted. Things that Bridget is not yet doing, or things that are not even on her radar, were discussed in the reports, but the focus was mostly on her accomplishments and skills that are emerging.

We discussed the IEP her team had set, adaptive and assistive devices they plan to use in the classroom and timeframes for "therapy" each week.

It's clear that the goal of the school system is to help Bridget grow and develop from where she is right now, which is exactly what we had hoped to see and hear.

Bridget starts preschool this fall, four days a week, two-and-a-half hours each day. She will be in the same building with Emmy and Brian. I'll sign enrollment papers in early August.

I know Bridget will thrive in the classroom environment and I am thrilled to have capable, caring people to help her. She is going to love school!

Mission Statement for Services

We've revised our Family Mission Statement from Early Intervention for Bridget's transition to the school system. I'll be posting information on our experiences with her new set of goals and services as we move forward. I am posting this here to give others an idea of how we are approaching Bridget's growth and use of specialized services. If you are in the process of formulating your own Mission Statement, please feel free to pull from the following as needed.

Mission Statement
For Bridget's Preschool Services

We believe that Life is a gift, and that Bridget is a gift. We believe that all people are always in the process of becoming--and that all people seek to find meaning in Life. We value Bridget as a person and as a family member.

As her parents, our goal is to be educated and able to make informed decisions about Bridget's care and to be the very best advocates for her in all arenas. We will approach her learning with creativity and dedication. We will work willingly with teachers, therapists, administrators and other care providers to create and carry out an appropriate plan for Bridget’s growth and participation in the classroom.

We’d like to see cues-based instruction whenever possible, or encouraging Bridget to acquire skills as she shows readiness (instead of "teaching" her from a pre-existing plan based on standard development scales).

Bridget is reaching milestones on her own timeline, and has her own set of talents and limitations. We’d like to pay attention to her gifts while offering her opportunities to grow.

We believe strongly in Bridget--in her abilities and potential--and in her right to be treated with love and respect. We realize that she will benefit from specialized services and are committed to giving her every type of support and encouragement to be as happy, healthy and independent as she can be.

Mission Statement for Services

We've revised our Family Mission Statement from Early Intervention for Bridget's transition to the school system. I'll be posting information on our experiences with her new set of goals and services as we move forward. I am posting this here to give others an idea of how we are approaching Bridget's growth and use of specialized services. If you are in the process of formulating your own Mission Statement, please feel free to pull from the following as needed.

Mission Statement
For Bridget's Preschool Services

We believe that Life is a gift, and that Bridget is a gift. We believe that all people are always in the process of becoming--and that all people seek to find meaning in Life. We value Bridget as a person and as a family member.

As her parents, our goal is to be educated and able to make informed decisions about Bridget's care and to be the very best advocates for her in all arenas. We will approach her learning with creativity and dedication. We will work willingly with teachers, therapists, administrators and other care providers to create and carry out an appropriate plan for Bridget’s growth and participation in the classroom.

We’d like to see cues-based instruction whenever possible, or encouraging Bridget to acquire skills as she shows readiness (instead of "teaching" her from a pre-existing plan based on standard development scales).

Bridget is reaching milestones on her own timeline, and has her own set of talents and challenges. We’d like to pay attention to her gifts while offering her opportunities to grow.

We believe strongly in Bridget--in her abilities and potential--and in her right to be treated with love and respect. We realize that she will benefit from specialized services and are committed to giving her every type of support and encouragement to be as happy, healthy and independent as she can be.

Disability is Natural...and Valuable

I'd been planning several posts (on early intervention, the role of parents as therapists, and the changing landscape for people with Down syndrome) when I read this post on Small Swift Birds.

I'll still be writing about each of the above topics, but the discussion of disability as a natural part of life is truly the thread that runs through all of these issues.

The idea that people with disabilities are an important and valuable part of life goes hand-in-hand with the idea that "disability" is natural. All levels of ability are natural. All people have value.

I've seen some disturbing pieces of writing recently, which suggest that people with Down syndrome should not be allowed to exist. These writers--their unbelievable arrogance and lack of compassion aside--are just missing the boat.

Just yesterday, I was sent a link to Why Trig has divided America, an article by Gary Bauer and Daniel Allott (which appeared on Politico). It highlights every aspect of the larger debate that's taking place all across this country (follow the above link for the rest of the article):

With the introduction of universal prenatal genetic testing, as well as more sophisticated and less invasive testing methods, many disability rights advocates worry about what former Washington Post writer Patricia Bauer predicts could be “the elimination of an entire class of people.”

In the midst of these powerful trends stands [Sarah] Palin. She understands that discrimination against people with disabilities is fueled by ignorance of what it is like to be, and to care for, a person with a disability.

Her advocacy is validated by the waiting lists of couples ready to adopt children with Down syndrome and other genetic abnormalities. And by the fact that those closest to people with disabilities are among the most vocal critics of universal prenatal genetic testing.

To many of the 400,000-plus Americans with Down syndrome and their families, Palin’s emergence marked the first time they felt their existence was embraced.

Palin is controversial, in part, because America is divided over disability. We’ve established laws and institutions that protect people with disabilities. But we also do everything we can to make sure they don’t see the light of day.

Trig is a reminder of our fierce ambivalence over disability. Every mention of his name is a pinprick to our conscience. Every photo of mother and son is a reminder of concepts — vulnerability, dependency and suffering — our culture no longer tolerates, as well as virtues, such as humility, dignity and self-sacrifice, it no longer extols.

Trig is also a reminder of an inescapable truth: Disability is an inherent part of the human condition. At a time of deep cultural divisions, 1-year-old Trig Palin represents the deepest division of all, between a culture that increasingly sees genetic perfection as an entitlement and a culture still rooted in the belief that human beings are defined not by their capabilities but, instead, by the very fact of their humanity.

Bridget turns three on Thursday. I have just finished a photo montage of this past year with her (I'll post a link on her birthday). I hope every photo is a reminder of the value of all life, and a testament to the beauty Bridget brings to our lives and to the lives of others...

Disability is Natural...and Valuable

I'd been planning several posts (on early intervention, the role of parents as therapists, and the changing landscape for people with Down syndrome) when I read this post on Small Swift Birds.

I'll still be writing about each of the above topics, but the discussion of disability as a natural part of life is truly the thread that runs through all of these issues.

The idea that people with disabilities are an important and valuable part of life goes hand-in-hand with the idea that "disability" is natural. All levels of ability are natural. All people have value.

I've seen some disturbing pieces of writing recently, which suggest that people with Down syndrome should not be allowed to exist. These writers--their unbelievable arrogance and lack of compassion aside--are just missing the boat.

Just yesterday, I was sent a link to Why Trig has divided America, an article by Gary Bauer and Daniel Allott (which appeared on Politico). It highlights every aspect of the larger debate that's taking place all across this country (follow the above link for the rest of the article):

With the introduction of universal prenatal genetic testing, as well as more sophisticated and less invasive testing methods, many disability rights advocates worry about what former Washington Post writer Patricia Bauer predicts could be “the elimination of an entire class of people.”

In the midst of these powerful trends stands [Sarah] Palin. She understands that discrimination against people with disabilities is fueled by ignorance of what it is like to be, and to care for, a person with a disability.

Her advocacy is validated by the waiting lists of couples ready to adopt children with Down syndrome and other genetic abnormalities. And by the fact that those closest to people with disabilities are among the most vocal critics of universal prenatal genetic testing.

To many of the 400,000-plus Americans with Down syndrome and their families, Palin’s emergence marked the first time they felt their existence was embraced.

Palin is controversial, in part, because America is divided over disability. We’ve established laws and institutions that protect people with disabilities. But we also do everything we can to make sure they don’t see the light of day.

Trig is a reminder of our fierce ambivalence over disability. Every mention of his name is a pinprick to our conscience. Every photo of mother and son is a reminder of concepts — vulnerability, dependency and suffering — our culture no longer tolerates, as well as virtues, such as humility, dignity and self-sacrifice, it no longer extols.

Trig is also a reminder of an inescapable truth: Disability is an inherent part of the human condition. At a time of deep cultural divisions, 1-year-old Trig Palin represents the deepest division of all, between a culture that increasingly sees genetic perfection as an entitlement and a culture still rooted in the belief that human beings are defined not by their capabilities but, instead, by the very fact of their humanity.

Bridget turns three on Thursday. I have just finished a photo montage of this past year with her (I'll post a link on her birthday). I hope every photo is a reminder of the value of all life, and a testament to the beauty Bridget brings to our lives and to the lives of others...

Almost Three

Almost Three

Darth Vader, Dora, Dancing on Tables

No, Darth Vader and Dora are not dancing on tables at our house. But the way some of our days have gone recently, I wouldn't be surprised to see it. I was working on my computer the other morning and turned around to see this...



Here are a few other photos from this past week :)...

Darth Vader, Dora, Dancing on Tables

No, Darth Vader and Dora are not dancing on tables at our house. But the way some of our days have gone recently, I wouldn't be surprised to see it. I was working on my computer the other morning and turned around to see this...



Here are a few other photos from this past week :)...