I'm at it again...

You're welcome in advance for not sharing every single one of my completely-fucked-up-to-the-point-you-would-be-concerned-for-my-actual-health-and-well-being dreams with you on a daily basis.  I'm not joking when I say that Scott has expressed genuine concern about me at least once in the last week and too many times over the course of our marriage to even count, after hearing what my dreams entail upon waking.  Usually they're just WEIRD, sometimes quite telling about where I am emotionally, but usually they are just worthy of eye rolls upon eye rolls.  For your sake, I won't go into details about my blindfolded, not-so-soft-core, sexy dream from last week which felt very much like a cross between Dexter and 50 Shades, but I will share with you the dream I had last night which definitely got me thinking...

During this dream, I was walking behind many of my family members.  It was almost like an out of body experience.  It was as if I was in another realm, watching life unfold while observing from behind.  It felt like I was seeing our lives from the outside in vs. the inside out.  It was dark outside, and light snow was falling.  Everyone was dressed warmly.  I looked at & studied each person as they interacted with one another, smiling, laughing, enjoying the winter night out.  Everyone was happy and acting silly.  It was then that I noticed Lola... she wasn't being carried, she was walking while holding the hand of a family member. She was the exact size she is now, but she was walking. She wasn't walking "normally;" she was sort of stiff-legged, almost prancing lightly over the ground. Her hair was braided in a Heidi braid over the top of her head.  I instantly knew it was her.  I could recognize that darling little head and those cute little ears from a mile away. Claire was not in the dream. My whole focus was solely on Lola, and I could not take my eyes off of her and the fact that she was mobile. It was both touching and fascinating, all at the same time. To see her upright and moving, to see our family member bending down SO LOW to grab her tiny little hand for support, to see her feel so free... it was incredible.

But I didn't feel sad or teary in the dream as I usually would have.  Instead, I was joyful and ecstatic. It was then in my dream that I saw her fall forward... and the family member kept a tight grasp on her hand, and she was able to regain her footing.  It felt so amazing to see her this way, so unencumbered by her own body. So different than she is in her usual daily life.

I need a live-in dream interpreter STAT!  Singlehandedly, I would keep him/her in business!  I wish I could make sense of this dream -- or maybe the real lesson here is that I don't need to make sense of it at all.

A year or so ago, I dreamt the same thing about Lola.  It was such a different feel, almost as if it is ME who is growing, changing, and evolving now. That makes me so happy.  And just as I typed this, I saw 11:11 on my computer clock. No mistakes... I am right where I need to be.

xo

Thankful Thirsty Thursday

So, a few days ago, this happened... again!  (My longtime followers might remember THIS VIDEO I posted on YouTube back in July 2013.)  We were between feedings, and both Scott & I stopped to get a drink, so I thought I'd offer one to Lola, too.  My girl drank from that water fountain like a G!!! And clearly, now we're gonna need to install one in the living room.  HA!  I am trying to hunt down a converter for our little, skinny reverse osmosis dispenser that might turn it into a drinking fountain. How awesome would that be?!

I had to share pics and a video with all of you.  Thank you SO MUCH for always seeing my girls' worth & value.  You have no idea how much that means to all of us!

xo

The Perfect Cheer

Back around Christmastime, I had the pleasure of seeing my friend, Danielle (& her family) from high school. One of her daughters -- Mady -- is a cheerleader at a nearby school that Cal's team plays against in basketball. Danielle mentioned that she & Mady would like to make hair bows for both sets of cheerleaders -- Cal's team & Mady's team -- to wear in Claire & Lola's honor. I thought that sounded like THE COOLEST IDEA EVER. We talked a few days before the game, and we set up a time and place to meet. She even texted me a pic as I walked into the gym. I was in complete & total awe at this... 

1.29.16  ~  Rose Hill & Circle cheerleaders with Claire & Lola
(Mady is holding Lola.)
Photo by Danielle Baker

Pre-game photo by Danielle Baker

Getting suited up!  Lola  =  #DivaStatus
Photo by Danielle Baker

Bows designed by Mady & handmade by Danielle and Mady
I am SO digging that Disney princess font -- PERFECTION!!!

Classic move on Claire's part of strategically aligning her head so as to pinpoint gauge Lola's eye out with very little effort on her part whatsoever.  Well played indeed.  Sibling rivalry at its finest -- I would expect nothing less!

The girls are rocking their handmade tutus, also made by Mady!  

Honorary Cheerleaders!

I still get goosies thinking about that night and how perfect it was in every single way. I loved how the two teams came together for a common goal, how both sets of cheerleaders made my girls feel so included, how proud they were to honor Claire & Lola, how others watching wanted bows also, how both teams' parents reached out to Scott, the girls & me telling us how touched they were by this gesture, how I didn't even give a shit who won the damn game because this whole thing felt SO. MUCH. BIGGER.  I love how our Circle cheerleaders still wear the bows many games later & how they smile with such love in their eyes at the girls when they get their fist bumps during the home games as if they are their "little sisters."  I love seeing tweets like this:

Big love to you, Ivory!

I love how, more than anything, it isn't just OUR little town who is embracing differences & seeing the beauty ANYWAY & giving and sharing love because of Claire & Lola. Our girls are changing this WORLD. I cannot tell you how much I love seeing my daughters as tiny messengers of change. I just am *so proud* to be part of the special needs community.

Thank you from the absolute bottom of my heart to Danielle, Mady, the Rose Hill High School Cheerleaders, the Circle High School Cheerleaders, both communities, both teams, and all those who love our girls. You will never know how very much you mean to our family.  We love you guys!!!

xo

CODE YELLOW... THE SAGA CONTINUES!

When we last left you, our cocky companion, Bok, was teetering on the edge of his destiny, unsure of whether to go toward the light or return to Earth with his BFF, Lola.  It was touch & go for awhile in the Hooligan household, and we weren't about to count our chickens before they hatched, so to speak. But our Feta just HAD to live to cluck another day.  SURELY he could pull through!  He's a tough old bird, right?!?!

We were bound & determined to stick our necks out any way possible to save that little guy. Granted, Bok was no spring chicken, but his life still had worth and value, and we would pull out all the stops to help our Feta rule this roost yet again.

We suctioned...

...and we suctioned some more.

[PS -- Guess what?  Chicken butt.]

7?  O.M.G.  His temp is down to SEVEN DEGREES?!?!?  We're losing him!!!
DAMN THAT WASHING MACHINE OF DOOM!

Let's see if a rectal temperature reading is more accurate... Ummmm, no.
Come on, ya dumb cluck!!! Put up a freakin' squawk!

Ohhhhh nooooooooo!!!!!!  Wattle we do?!?!?  (See what I did there?!)

Be brave, Bok.  Come back to your flock.
They say Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy can sometimes be effective with near-drownings, so we had to give it a go.
If it was good enough for Michael Jackson, it is good enough for our Feta.

On a wing & a prayer, Scott tried tiny chest/breast compressions on our
fowl friend with hopes that Feta would once again strut his stuff.

When all else failed, Scott tried mouth-to-beak resuscitation...

... and he was sure to listen for any signs of clucking and/or breathing.

There was only one thing left to try... fried chicken.  I mean, shocking our rubbery rooster back to life.

CLEAR!!!

And now it was simply a waiting game.  Would Feta "wake up with the chickens" ever again?  Would he ruffle any more feathers?  Would he ever cross the road?  Would he run around like a chicken with his head cut off?  Would the sky continue falling?  Would he ever choke his own chicken (wait, wrong chicken quote... oopsie!)?  Would he ever again do the "funky chicken" in all his glory?!?!? And furthermore, which DID come first -- Bok or the egg?! So many questions, so few answers. Only time would tell.

I would SO cue the 2004 Grammy Award-winning anthem titled “Shake Ya Tailfeather” by Nelly, P. Diddy (or is it Puff Daddy? Puffy? Diddy? Sean? Sean John? Cluck it, I give up.) & Murphy Lee if I could right now because that Bok OG (Original Gallus, as in Gallus Domesticus, the scientific name of the common chicken. Not to be confused with Common, the rapper.) cock-a-doodle-doo’ed himself right back to life, by gum! 

Feta & his colorful counterpart attempt to coexist with Mrs. Pocket in complete harmony.

Wait, who is this guy?!?!  Imma wring his neck!

Mmmmm...tastes like chicken.

Lola says, "The yolks on you!" by subtly attempting to "Ozzy Osbourne" poor stand-in Feta.
She clearly isn't his "Mother Hen."
(Note:  No chickens or dwarves were harmed during the filming of this dorky melodrama.)

Pocket has never been more cocksure of anything in all her life.  That fake Feta got what he deserved!!! They say poultry maintain a definite pecking order, and that is CLEARLY evident here.  

Nothin' but LOVE

Bok = Cock of the Walk
#rockoutwithyourbokout

xo

Thankful Thursday ~ BBC Radio

Yesterday I was interviewed by Julian Marshall of BBC Radio regarding microcephaly and the Zika virus, a mosquito-borne virus which is believed to be causing microcephaly in newborns whose mothers were infected by this virus while pregnant. I was honored & thankful to discuss our experience with microcephaly, and I hope that maybe, in some small way, my testimony can help new mothers whose babies were diagnosed with microcephaly to feel less alone & afraid. I certainly don't have all of the answers regarding this diagnosis, but I want to help set their minds at ease however I can.

It is sad to me that microcephaly is being vilified in the media due to Zika, and I hope that the general public realizes that though this diagnosis would not be something I would have chosen, I am NO LESS BLESSED by having two daughters with this condition than if they'd been born typical. I am just as proud of my girls as I am of our neurotypical son, Cal.

CLICK HERE to listen to my radio interview from yesterday!  As of now, I am being told it may only be active for another five days, though I hope to be able to download an mp3 of it at some point so I can share that here as well.

1.20.16 ~  Claire, Cal, & Lola celebrating the #DayOfAcceptance for #3ELove

xo

CODE YELLOW!

(NOTE:  Real Feta is considerably less red in the head/claw region than the chicken pictured above.
An impostor chicken was used for the "LOST!" poster, as real Bok was MIA.)

On the morning of January 8, I snapped the below photo of Cash & Lola. As I zoomed in closer to look at the picture, I gasped and chills spread throughout my body when I realized that our loyal compadre, Bok, was not in his trusty protector's hand. (For all you newbies, Bok -- also known as Feta -- is literally the ONLY thing in the whole wide world that Lola has ever voluntarily held onto, her rubbery roommate, her feathery-yet-non-feathery, feta-cheese-stankin' friend, her poultry partner-in-crime, her yellow yardbird, her chickeny chum. I could go on all. day. long!) Yes, it is common for Feta & Lola to "break up" or be "on a break" several times a day. She frequently drops him like a bad habit, and they live the single life for the rest of the day. Other times, he falls from her tight grasp and gets kicked under the couch. Not today, friends. Not today.

#CashandLola  ~  BFF's times infinity

Nope, today was a different story entirely. I checked all the usual locations for that little pecker, and he was nowhere to be found. He wasn't under either couch, either ottoman, the chair, Claire's beanbag, or on top of the ottoman. He wasn't on the kitchen counter drying with the g-tube extensions after a good cleaning/bath. He wasn't on the tray with all the remote controls and pens and essential oils (yep, I'm one of THOSE people!). I even pulled up all the couch cushions to check for his lifeless, little body, to no avail. What the cluck?!?! Where WAS he?!?!

At this point, I was beginning to assume Cash had come into play with our beloved Bok. I began to fear the worst. Was he residing within a certain someone's colon and/or in a dung pile in our back yard? If so, could he be saved? And if he were miraculously found & saved, could he still be Lola's sidekick if I boiled him, or would that be wrong?! I almost went outside to look, but then I opted against it. (Hey, why do all my posts somehow end up circling back around to discussing shit?! It's like the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon except in turd form. WTH!?!?) Instead, I decided to bust out a backup Bok. I know, I know. TOO SOON. I get it. I didn't want to believe he was gone either. But Lola seemed distressed, so I caved. I dug out my bag of alternate Fetas, removed the keychain ring (don't judge, it was the only 3" rubber chickens I could find on Amazon), and stuck that trickster in her hand.

Upon having Fake Feta placed in her hand as a substitute for her Bok OG, Lola immediately became wide-eyed and distressed. She stared wildly into the distance while hearkening back to the wise words of Lyndon B. Johnson, the 36th President of The United States of America  ~ “I may not know much, but I know chicken shit from chicken salad.”
That's my girl.

Shortly thereafter, as I sat on the couch racking my birdbrain trying to figure out where on earth Feta could be, I hatched an idea. I wasn't about to put all my eggs in one basket, but I had a pretty good idea of where he might be. I dashed into the laundry room, flung open the washer (which was full of clean, wet clothes, as usual), and I began removing piece-by-piece, shaking each one, hopeful that Bok might magnificently reappear. When I was almost to the bottom, I grabbed a blanket, gave it a good shake, and much to my surprise, Feta took flight (it was only a short flight though, as chickens are not capable of long distance flights)! He sailed majestically through the air, descended rapidly, and lodged himself precariously in the deep crevasse between the washing machine and our laundry cart. I could barely believe my eyes! FETA WAS FOUND!

Save yourself, Feta!  Don't fall deeper into the dark abyss!

At precisely that moment, Scott got home from work. The garage door opened, he walked in, and I yelled, "Bok's been lost! I couldn't find him anywhere & I looked EVERYWHERE! I finally figured out that he might have gotten wrapped up or hidden in a blanket & accidentally thrown in the washer with the dirty clothes & so I went to look & I shook out a blanket & he went airborne & somehow ended up almost plummeting to his death between the washer! Look where he landed! HE WENT THROUGH A WHOLE 57 MINUTE WASH LOAD! I am so glad he is found because fake Bok sucks!!!!!" To which Scott calmly replied, "We must save him." He quickly rushed out to the garage and returned with this...

Noooooo!!!!!

Soaring high above the Machine of Doom... with aforementioned Blanket from Hell in foreground

I've got ya', little fella...

They say that pale combs on top of chickens' heads indicate illness or disease... 

Stay with me, Bok!!!

Don't go to the light... NO!  Don't do it!!!!

TO BE CONTINUED...

Stay tuned for the gripping conclusion of Feta's rescue... Will he survive? Will he succumb to the light?

xo