Tag Archive: birthdays


Pynni Pi. Seven.

Pynni is at my mom’s house with the “little” kids.

######Kip, Chi, Mae, and Abshie make up the “big” kids (grandkids). Pynni is two years younger than the youngest “big kids” and two years older than the oldest “little kids”. She is smack in the middle. So when the “big” kids go to Grammie’s Camp, Pynni gets to go, and when the “little” kids go to Grammie’s Camp, Pynni gets to go.######

Wednesday, April 18 is her birthday. She turns seven. I do not think I can overstate the importance of her birth in my life.

Chi was hard. Period. If you, as a parent, have ever dealt with a child with SPD or Asperger’s or PDD-NOS, then you know my pain. I had no clue what I was dealing with when Chi was born and things weren’t simple. They weren’t easy. I was not just dealing with the huge change a child brings into your life, but the huge challenges a child with these sorts of issues bring. On top of all of that, I suffered, pretty mightily, from post-partem depression. (It was difficult and complicated and I won’t go into it all here, but I was a mess.)

I knew that I didn’t want Chi to be an only child, but I wasn’t sure I could deal with another kid. Still, I was very determined to have another child.

Enter Pynni.

She was this light in my life that saved me. She was so easy going and quiet and beautiful. She was everything I needed and made helping Chi something I could handle without falling apart after he went to bed. She was exactly the balance I needed. EXACTLY. She is light and joy and smiles and happiness and beauty; all without trying.

Today, 18 April, she turns seven. She is so much her own person. The ONE thing I truly want for her is to be her own person. Yes, I want her to be happy. Yes, I want her to be successful (whatever that embodies). Mostly, I want her to be her. I want her to march to the beat of her own drummer. I want her to be a leader, not a follower. I want her to own WHO she is. I want her to be unafraid to just BE. I want her to be strong. I want the fact that she is a woman to DEFINE her and, yet, for that fact to set her free. I want her to have the strength to reach for her dreams, whatever those things may be: mother, world leader, healer, teacher, artist, lover, WHATEVER!

So I got a text from my mom because Pynni is not going to be HERE for her birthday. She is going to be with my parents. My mother says that Pynni is planning her own party and is VERY definite about what she wants. She is having a SpongeBob SquarePants piñata with Hello Kitty plates and napkins and a Tinkerbell cake with mint ice cream and a trip to see The Lorax.

So it begins. Somehow I need to nurture that uniqueness, that special light that is Pynni. Somehow, I need to encourage her light to shine in the face of whatever she faces. Unafraid. Unchanged. Undaunted. Uniquely, Eowyn.

Wynni Pynni Pi;

I love you and cherish EVERYTHING about you. I love watching you grow and become this amazing person. I look forward to the coming years; to seeing who and what you become. How YOU define happiness and success. Those are two things that can only be defined by you for you and I cannot wait to learn their definitions as seen through your eyes.

I love you, Pynni. Happy Birthday.

~Mom

Dear Chi;

Happy #10, Chi!

At 3:11am on this day ten years ago, you were born. You were plump and healthy. You did  not cry. Your eyes were wide and alert and the doctor had to put a knuckle to your chest to get a peep out of you. The minute she removed that knuckle, though, you stopped crying again. What got you going, finally, was being wiped down under those bright lights. All the poking and prodding finally got to you, I guess.

You slept a lot during that first week, and I didn’t have to fight you to get you on a schedule. Turns out, that was going to be the mantra to live by with you. Schedule. Schedule. Schedule. But that’s alright because I like schedules, too. Also, it turns out, that the poking and prodding and bright lights would make you cry for years to come. Sensory processing disorders are like that, and yours manifested very early on.

I’ve always been so happy with you no matter how difficult the little things have gotten. I love that you are your own person. I love that you don’t do whatever everyone else around you is doing. I love that fads pass right by our house with nary a pause. I love that you are so fabulously odd and so wildly unique that I’ve yet to meet a kid that reminds me of you. I love that your imagination is larger than the universe and that you can slip into that world so effortlessly. I love your perspective on things and the comments you make about what is going on around you. I love that sarcasm makes no sense to you. I love that you will explain sarcastic comments and figures of speech to those around you, namely your brother and sister.

I love what a great big brother you are. I love that you would be content to have 10 younger siblings. I love how snuggly and loving you are. I love your soft heart.

Things will be difficult for us: namely navigating a world designed for the neuro-typical. But we will always be there for each other and you will always have me.

I can’t believe you are ten, and yet somehow, that’s just right. Happy Birthday, Chi. I love you more than I can ever express and beyond.

~~Mom

Do you remember, Mom?

Do you remember, Mom, teaching me to make cookies? The dough was always my favorite part. I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, watching the Sound of Music and Little Women over and over and over with me? Watching Singing in the Rain? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, how we were too chicken to try out the subways in NYC until the very end of our trip, and how we swore we’d go back, just to use the transit system properly? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, the awesome birthday parties when I was growing up: the backwards birthday party, the slumber parties, the parties centered around really fun games, the McDonald’s Caboose parties? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, singing songs to each other and to my kids? Do a deer, Favorite Things, Second Story Window, and others? “Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes. Snowflakes that  stay on my nose and eyelashes. Silver white winters that melt into spring. These are a few of my favorite things.”  I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, when you would wet my hair and braid it? Sometimes it was one braid and sometimes two, but always it was this perfect French braid. I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, when we would sing in the car together? I would sit on the armrest of the Malibu like it was my own personal chair and we would belt out songs. I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, teaching me the nursery rhyme song and how much fun it was to try and come up with as many nursery rhymes as we could? “Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard to get her poor dog a bone. When she went there, the cupboard was bare so she threw it out the window. The window, the window, the second story window. With a heave and a ho and a mighty throw, she threw it out the window!” I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, teaching me to play Nardle? I remember playing over and over, and having SO much fun. I ended up teaching friends, I liked it so much. I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, building a snowman in the snow? I think we were in Ft Smith, which means you were pregnancy encumbered, but I had a blast. Thanks to you. I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, drying my hair and ironing it on the ironing board? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, laying face to face on the bed (or floor or where ever) upside down to one another? Do you remember the funny upside down faces and the laughing? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, playing boardgames in the camper at the end of the night when we all went camping? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, just you and I going to the movies and seeing tear jerkers and crying on each others shoulders? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, going for drives and getting Sonic sodas and beef meximelts from Taco Bell? Do you remember sitting at the lock and watching the river flow by? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, going shopping in Little Rock, just us? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, swimming at Meemaw and Grandad’s house for hours on end? “Fish on land!!” I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, going to see all those musicals? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, teaching me to play the piano? How I preferred to memorize the songs as opposed to reading the music? How I hated theory? I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, all those duets we loved to play together on the piano? You always played the bass clef because I was ruined from playing the clarinet for so long. Bass clef required all kinds of counting and figuring out what was what for me anymore. I remember.

Do you remember, Mom, being there for the birth of my children? I remember.

Making Memories

Do you remember, Mom, holding me and loving me? Yeah, all those times you’ve always been there. I love you, Mom, I’m so thankful for you and all the memories we’ve made. I may not know your birth story the way your mom tells it to you, but I know your life story as I’ve lived it with you. I look forward to all of the memories we will make going forward and all the times you will hold me and love me.

Happy birthday, Mom. I love you.

My heart is all splintered apart and part of it has returned to California to be with their mom for the school year. I can’t seem to let go and move on. I have to keep forcing myself to do something else besides wallow in sadness.

Today, I made a commitment to face forward and move on with life. I know that sounds melodramatic, and maybe it is, but the sadness is real. The depression is dragging at me like weights in the deep dark waters of time. I have to make myself turn away from the darkness and start swimming in the direction of the light because that’s where the air is. I feel like I can’t breathe. I need to breathe.

This summer was great and we had a royal blast. We did a lot and time flew by unheeded. I’m thankful that we had this time. I hope it’s not the last.

I made a video documentary of sorts because the list of things that we did and their stories would fill up too much of this white space.

Enjoy.

I may elaborate in the future. I don’t know yet.

Happy Birthday!

April is a busy month. Two of my three kids were born in April almost exactly two weeks apart. Pieces turned FOUR on the fifth and today is Pynni Pie’s SIXTH! My babies aren’t babies anymore and I’m not quite sure what to do with that.

These two are awesome. They are awesome individually and they are awesome together. They are like peas and carrots or peanut butter and jelly. They just go together.

Pynni came into my life during some of the most trying times with her older brother, Chi. I wanted another baby and we’d planned and prepared for her, but I was scared to death that my second child was going to be as hard as my first, and I’m not talking about labor.

"Chi and Pie"

She was a baby that slept almost all of the time until she was about 5 weeks old, and by that time she was close to
sleeping through the night and not needing to eat every couple of hours. When she was awake, she was smiling, then laughing, then laughing and smiling and clapping. She did almost nothing early. She was content to just be. She had this calming effect on me. I had struggled mightily with post-partem depression with Chi and was still dealing with depression throughout my pregnancy. After she was born, it was like this light had been born inside of her that banished all the darkness. She even helped calm Chi. He was enamored of her.

MY BABY!

Then Pieces came along when Pynni wasn’t much more than a baby herself. I worried that she would be jealous and that I wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with her one on one as I otherwise would have. Turns out that Pieces is the perfect little brother for her and she was DELIGHTED to have a baby. In fact, it was all I could do to keep her out of his face. She wanted to hold him and kiss on him and poke at him non-stop. Good thing he’s WAAAAAY easy going. (Chi, I think, would like it if we could have a new brother or sister every couple of years. He was crushed when I told him that couldn’t be so.)

So, today we celebrate the birth of Wynni. We will make cake and open gifts and let her pick the meals (oh, god, I am NOT looking forward to that!). We will sing and blow out candles and play with new toys and probably watch a new movie. (it’s spring break so we have ALL DAY!)