Ahhh the simple smell of fear and the sharp taste of self doubt.
They say I wouldn't be human if I didn't have those moments.
The trick to this one may just be simple....
do not let the negative moments run on too long.
Keep on Trucken'!
Move ahead,
Slow then pick up your speed.
Breathe.
Focus.
Get some sleep!
And remember that its not about ME.


Great thing about the memory.
It fades.

Sometimes completely erased!

Do you remember exactly how you felt the first time you jumped on top of your 2 wheeler?

Or the moment that a green forest looking vegetable was about to enter your mouth?

Remember those moments that you thought you would never get through.

Gigantic hurdles that skewed your vision.
Moments that seemed to take eternity to get through.

You thought you would crumble.
You could not see the light at the end.
You were scared.
You felt alone in a crowded room.


You truly thought that at that moment you were about to be swallowed alive.
Do you remember?

Now they are gone.
 Faded memories.
Only the strength is remaining.
From what you learned along the way.

AND you are here.

You did it.

Its funny how age brings with it so many gifts.
The crows feet, arthritic joints and gray hair.

It also brings wisdom.
Solid and vibrant and tangible wisdom.

I am a dreamer.
An enormous technicolor, 3-D dreamer.

Difference between my dreams and reality?

I make my dreams come true.

If it is possible, than it shall be.
No room for make believe in my 24 hour day.

If I can dream it..
I can do it.

If I can see it.
Then I can be it.
 (boots are shaking....)

Enter~what I see.
My vision.
My hopes, dreams and soon to be REALITY.

I see simple love.
A smile.
A warm hello.
A shared glance of acceptance.
A village,
A city,
A state,
Our world.

All united with one simple message.

Coming together with the same thoughts.

To love and be loved.

To live and let live.

To not just read the poems but to live the words.
Your daily mantra.
Etched deep into your soul.

Let us all celebrate each other.
Our uniqueness does not label us.
It is who we are.
It just is.....

Being different is the spectacular landscape that we live in.
It is our chosen cloak.
You can not decide what is right for me.
You can not pick out my life's wardrobe.
Its inside.
Deep inside the layers of our humanity.
It is who we are.
Simple, defined, raw and honest.

Let us all begin right here.
Today.
In our homes.
On our streets.
In our work place.
and where ever we may roam.

Accept me for who I am.
I cannot be who you want me to be.
I cannot be who you think I should be.
I am just me.

I am who I am.

So maybe the self doubt is what keeps me going.
This is certainly not an easy road.  My map seems a bit off kilter at times.

The future is only a moment away.

Yep- I'm nervous.

Wouldn't you be?
I've gotta knock on doors.
Break some walls down.
Slap a few million peeps up-side their heads.
Move a mountain here and there.
And keep my fingers crossed that they will listen.

Yikes.
Good thing about the memory....
I have already forgotten about my self doubt.

Move the frick over.
Here I come.

Celebrating acceptance through awareness.
BAMMM.

(please check out www.iam-whoiam.com)

Let's get this party started!

Let's get this party started!


I definitely have enough passion to fuel this campaign.  Enough amazing friends to keep me focused.
 A family who loves, laughs yet ultimately supports me.
I have a mentor that believes in what I see.
I am surrounded by those with great knowledge, passion and inspiration.

Would you believe that a friend actually has recorded an "I am who I am' song- seriously beyond cool.

But I still sit here quivering.

What if no one listens?

Seriously Hol.....

Not listen to you?

Get a friggen grip. Full speed ahead.  No going back. Focus.  You got this.
Breathe.
Its a new damn day.

Move over Gaga.

I got something to say!

Be careful what you wish for?

Really?

Is that what this is.

I don't think my mission is a wish.

"I am who I am' is just too simple.

I am a mom in motion.
A warrior on a journey.   (thank you Steven- I love that one.)

A  little girl who refuses to grow up.
Not going to accept the ignorance and stupidity of others.
It took me years to grow this backbone.
Not gonna crumble now.

The "I AM WHO I AM" non-for profit CELEBRATION campaign has arrived.

ACCEPTANCE and AWARENESS through CELEBRATION.

Don't you love it?
Tingles from the possibilities?

Come on, jump on board  with me.


Yes- my focus is on Down Syndrome.

But can't you see the gigantic umbrella?

Autism, bullying, gay, short, tall, pink, purple, striped?

I can.

Clearly.


To live as one.


To remember that under those tattoos of difference is a human being.

You must realize that just a short time ago- these magical Downs kids were sent to an institution.  Kept in secret.
No possibilities.
No future,

No love
No acceptance.

Nothing.

They were deemed un-worthy.

The 60's mentality still exists.

Don't fool yourselves.

Lets shake it up a bit.

Put some excitement into being unique.

after all isn't that all of our lives journey's?

We must educate.

Bring awareness.

Pop the heads of ignorance and re-write what is 'normal'.

Open up their eyes.
Doors.
Hearts
and leave a lasting impression.

Nathaniel and hundreds of other 'Nathaniel's' live amongst us.  They will continue with this up hill climb way after we are gone.
We need to set the wheels in motion.
NOW.


Acceptance and awareness with an ATTITUDE!

My son deserves a world of endless possibilities.

Just like yours.

He deserves doors opened.
wide.
Opportunities,
and the bar set as high as possible.

There but for the grace of God go I" you said.

Hah-I am the lucky one.

It is his right.

To be heard.

embraced.

loved

accepted
challenged
held
honored.

If you have been lucky enough to be touched.
You get it.

If you have not yet been blessed,

there is still time.

http://www.iam-whoiam.com/

(stay tuned)

What the Hell am I doing?

Small panic attack today.

Thank God for my posse of friends that guide me through it.

They believe in me.

Some days I feel so humble.

Not able to see clearly.

What the hell am I doing?

I remember vividly walking into my father's room as he was watching a black and white old Western on t.v.

I shared with him my woes.

They seemed enormous back in the day.
Like a broken heart.

Or a bad grade.

Too big for that little blond haired,

blue eyed girl to handle alone.

I thought I was drowning with worry.

It was immediately bandaged with "every things going to be just fine."
And it was.

Faith.

Another day came.
Remembering my dads voice as I face a new challenge.

I know I will be just fine.

So what if I can barely breath.

Cuz' truth be told-

 I'm scared to death.

Dipping your toe in.
Taking a risk.
Rolling life's dice.
Holding your breath.

Closing your eyes and
believing.

I may walk tall.
Be brave,

 fierce,

and excited.
(that's truly just who I play on t.v.)

But my next chapter.
My new direction.
Has me shaking in my dazzling kick ass cowboy boots.

"I am who I am" has launched.
Today.
Grass roots.
Right off of my crumb filled,
sticky,
kitchen table.

My very own Foundation.

I can hear the theme song.

Sung by Taylor Swift.

The melody reminds me of acceptance.

The poetry reads as clear as the Constitution.

Her voice triggers us to love.

unconditionally,

brave,

silent,
honest,
accepting,
wide eyed,
raw
DOWN SYNDROME
Love.

I'm ready.
I think.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.
Hell-
All our lives.

I will carry the load.
I will fight the fight.
I will walk in.
Blow the damn doors down and take them all with me.
I will be the voice.
The loudest one.

Today is the beginning of acceptance.
To live as one.
To never hear an "I'm sorry for your baby' ever again.

To not actually be counted.

TO JUST BE APART OF.

I am the new leader.

Crap I am scared.
(or I am in the midst of a heart attack)

My "I am who I am" foundation has begun.

I have nothing to study.
This is my life.

I just want to share.
To give.
To celebrate and rejoice.

How did I get here?

I have no friggen idea.

Gods plan.

They say.

The first steps will be tricky,

as me feet feel like they are sticking to the floor.

But I have a vision.

To live in a world where we only accept

what is rightfully ours.

Being different is a gift.

Lets unwrap and let the celebration begin.

To all those who believe in me.

I owe you,

my everything.

I will make you proud.
I have too.

This is my life.


(But first I must have a tall glass of wine...)


.

Volleyball

Just another day in the life.
A day full of volleyball.

Nate and I had the pleasure to attend a day of ball yesterday.
This isn't your everyday volleyball game.
This is club ball.
A day full of,
dedication
exhaustion
smiles
tears
pain
pride
and loyalty.

Winning.
Sometimes.

My daughter Lindsey has played straight out of the womb.
She is a 6 ft beauty with no idea who she is.
A gorgeous statue of all things to become.
Open to possibilities.
Integrity
power
leadership
and poise.
Today she was Misty May.
And I was her mom.

As we entered the gym I was hit with excitement.
(okay, truth be told, I was hit with the awful stench of a locker room.)
After my nasal cavity adjusted to the air I was whisked away.
Being 18 again.

Girls of all shapes and sizes.
Colors,
attitudes.
Filling the gigantic open space with hope.

Hope to WIN.

Okay,
Give them all you got.

Sorry, But I am NOT a sports mom.
I like to watch.
But you're not happy?
Go home.
You're not willing?
Sit down.
You're not in it to win it.

Leave.

We won some.
We lost some.
But once again.

Something else was played.
Something else was won.

There she was,
 a  'Holly' Fan.

The coach.

A beautiful, wide eyed young-en.
Just beginning to fill up her cup with wisdom.

So beyond excited that she wanted to talk with me.
And she heard.
My sermon was brief.
Then it was her turn.

I listened and read between the lines.
I heard her story and wanted to mold it like clay.
But its hers,
and only hers.
To hold,
to shape.

She is a girl that 'got' it early on.
The petty bullshit of girls gone by.

She took her small town values
and bestowed them upon her team.

Imagine,
YOU have their ears.

YOU as a coach,
a leader
a teacher.

You
have the  minutes to guide these girls.
With your own lessons.

What power you hold.
To make or break them.
To give them the foundation they need to survive.

You are their mentor.
Even if only for the season.

You are their instructor.
Leader
inspiration
guider
cheerleader
and strength.

I heard through her story that she was at a crossroad.
I get that.

We all are.
Daily.
Decisions.

You don't have time to do what you want to do?
Find it.
you are not happy on the court?
Leave it.
You cant find peace in your day.
Rearrange it.

We may not all have the power to win the game.
But we all hold the power to be happy.
Its only our game to win.

Volleyball comes and goes. 
Girls drop out.
Injuries last a lifetime.
Balls are lost in the rafters
and coaches move on.

Play your own game.
This is TRULY the only game you have a choice in.

Win it.


I say,
Go for the ball with all you've got.
Hit hard.
Straight
and mighty.

Its yours to win.


Play big or go home.

Just be IN IT to win it.

It's in a touch

I was once again privileged to do something wonderful last night.
Thanks to Nathaniel.
Being his mom makes me feel like a VIP.
Not just once in awhile.
But daily.

Every magical moment.
Brought to me,
by him.
Who would have known.

Last night our local High School's baseball team sponsored their first baseball clinic for special people.
As usual I was "Nate's mom"...no name....just the coat carrier.
"Leave Mom"...was the first thing said as we entered the gym.


Instant independence was on Nate's agenda.
I could do nothing more than watch.
And,
 thank God that I was given VIP access.

 Each Brother Rice player was given a special person to mentor.

The young men took their hands and guided them through their world.
If only for a night.

Nathaniel was guided through baseball drills.
Pitching.
Catching,
and fielding.
He among others swung the bat with reckless abandonment.

Making contact with the tiny little sphere brought immense pride from all.

Joy was contagious as the kids ran from base to base.

Laughing,
dancing
squealing
clapping
filled the air with acoustic brilliance.

But what I noticed was simple.
What I saw gave me goosebumps.
What humbled me was the team.

Teen aged boys  gathered here on a Friday night.
No one checked their watches or answered their phones.
They came  to do what was expected.

But they did more.

They got on their knee's and spoke with their child.

Eye to eye.
Man to man.
Friend to friend.
Person to person.

They held their child's uncertain hands with  grace.
They wore pride on their jerseys as if this was their child.

Some of these high school boys were out of their comfort zone.
Some of these young men probably had never been around any one special.
To have gentle contact with a stranger.
Let alone a stranger that may look different.
Or act different.

I looked around in awe.

They all accepted.
They all taught.
They all understood.

This may have been the beginning to something magical.
The real deep down inside your heart jolt.
The stuff that does not come from winning.

Yes, these amazing young men taught our children somethings about baseball.
But I guarantee our children taught these boys even more.


I teared when I saw the gentleness of these boys hold the hands of our children.
Guiding them with dignity through the maze of baseball.
They offered the sweetness that is kept away from locker rooms.

I pray that these moments  are now embedded.
Deep into their beings.
Remembering this night as the beginning.
To accept all those.
All those who may look different,
act different.

They touched.

They felt.
They saw.
They lived.
And if only for the moment they looked through the eyes of a 'not so perfect' child.
And it didn't matter.

My only hope is that  these moments leave a lasting reminder to these young high school athletes.

We may not  all make the team.
We may never wear the jersey.
Or hold the trophy.


But we all feel the same joy.
the same radiance.
We all just want to play.

Together as one.

Accept me for who I am.

Hold my hand,
look me in the eye,
 and see that I am no different than you.

Thank you boys.

I think you got it.

It's half time America.

Maybe that was the first football game I have watched in its entirety. 
I think it was because I was too exhausted from the weekend to get up.

I love football...When one of my son's are playing.
Other than that...
not so much.

I have never rooted strongly for one team over the other.
Don't care.
 Never did.
I try to understand.
But on this- we may just have to agree to disagree.
I do love one thing.

The unity.

Strength behind passion.

I cannot muster up passion for cute boys throwing a ball around, making millions of dollars as their mom's pray that their heads do not snap off.
(I may erase this blog if any of my boys make it to the NFL.)
Highly doubtful as they quiver at the sight of a pig skin diamond shaped ball.

But I do love your excitement. 
Loud
Rambunctious
extreme
combustible
passionate
crazy
football frenzy.

So what if my passion lies in great beauty, magical melodies and dynamic tastes.  You can have your game.
Passion is passion.
No matter how you slice it.

I did have one solid moment of spine tingling happiness.

(gheez for all of you with dirty minds- really?)

Thank you, Clint Eastwood.
LOVED your commercial.
I know they weren't exactly your words.
But you said them so I could hear .

And DAMN dude-
I heard you.

It went a little like this....

'It's halftime America.
the teams are now in their locker rooms discussing how to win the game..
planning their come back.
We too are planning our come back.
we are all scared-

because this is not a game....
yada, yada, yada,

We rally for what is right
and act as 0ne.
we will find our way through.....
Ya' its halftime America,
and our 2nd half is about to begin.'

(I used a bit of poetic licence)

I loved it.
Dirty Harry shot me right in the bicep.
OOOOh, how I love moments like that.
In between eating my weight in doritos and Chocolate covered peanuts.
He rocked those words.
Now that the teams have divided. We can come back.

Rally,
We can unite.
Together to make this better.
Better for ourselves.
Better for our children.

Lets all go in the locker room and discuss.
Quickly.
Time on the clock is running out.
We need a strategy..
Make a plan.

Get it right and  fight to the end.

Its a game called LIFE.

and its ours to win.

not my child

I just heard of a horrible incident. One that changes peoples lives.  Moments that happen before you know it.  Leaving lasting impressions.  Horrible tastes in ones mouth. Left with unanswered  questions on what the hell is going on in our world.

A dear friend of mine just told be about a stabbing.

Child against child.

I don't know any details.  I don't even know of the child.  But I do know this. 
I am a mom. 
A mom of 5. 
That makes me a professor, a doctor, a specialist, a psychologist, a social worker, a nanny, and a suitable care giver.
Not perfect.
 Not even close.
But trying with all I have. 

I took on this enormous responsibility 18 years ago.
  No handbook came. 
No manual.
 No friggen idea what to do. 

The love came naturally.
 The lessons....not so much.

So far I have raised some pretty amazing humans.
I have used the tools that came naturally.
Instinctively.
  Honesty, humility, bravery, humor and a whole lotta luck.
 ( Fine, at times even I beg to differ.) 
But I would go to bat for anyone of them.
 I have their back. 
They are good. 
They are solid. 
So far.

I have taught them to stand up for what is right. 
To shout when something is wrong.
 To fight to the death with conviction and honesty.
 Be brave, be strong and defend till the end.
BELIEVE.
If its not right.
Change it.
Don't just stand there and watch.
Do something.
Now.

I believe that you are only as good as the day you play.
So,
 play fair.

Who said it was okay to bring a weapon to a fight?
What ever happened to the Jets.
 Didn't the kids in  West Side Story just dance their arguments away?
 It's as if sending our children  to school is sending a 12 year old off to war.
 How do we defend ourselves with a switchblade at our jugular.

"Its NOT my kid".
Ummmm, sorry, BUT YES IT IS. 
Its all of our children.

Black, white, gray and purple.
 Its all of  our children.

 It truly does take a village. 
Its time to take our children home.
 Teach them the lessons that have been lost.
Teach with conviction.
Teach  with bravery .
 Teach with honesty.
BUT TEACH.
and with all of your might,
Pray that they will listen.

My oldest son has been stupid enough to follow a pack.  Following the lions into the pit. Waiting for the cage fight to start.  Getting in the front row to get the best seats.  Cheering on the rumble as if watching the Fight Club on  t.v. Seeing how one fist leads to another.  One blow lands in the wrong spot.
 Leaving futures destroyed.
Pieces of their puzzle scattered all over the playground.
 Families devastated.
 Innocence gone.

If it cannot be handled with dignity.
Walk away.
Walk away as fast as you can.
It is your choice.
Just turn away.

I cannot change the world.  Lord knows I've tried..
At times my sermon's go on deaf ears.
gathered around my kitchen table is our future.

I still preach.
 Loud and clear.
High on top of my multi colored soap box.
Battles are not won on the street corners. 
World problems are not diminished with a punch.. 
Leaders are not made with violence.
No man (or woman) ever achieved greatness with their fists.

Do onto others.

Just be kind.


Teach your children first. 
Then hold on tight .
Pray that they heard you.

Teach them.
While you love them.

Teach them will all the might you have.

The happiness project

Gonna try real hard to not get too sappy on this one. 
You all know how much I love this subject..."Gotta feel happy to be happy". 
Well, Gretchen Rubin got there before I did.  Her best selling book came out a while back.  It was recommended by a million clients.
Had to get it.

Had to read it.

 Had to learn something.

"The Happiness Project"

The book started off with a bang.  Nothing learned that I didn't already know.  You know the drill, 'We learned everything in Kindergarten'.  

She wrote poetically. 

I was able to achieve a few 'a-ha' moments and was refreshed. 

My first lesson was to 'Be Holly'.

Not the Holly that I want to be.

Nor the Holly I thought I should be.

Not the girl with the fake eyelashes and the kick ass cowboy boots.

But the real deal.

Yowza- good luck finding her.

Hiding behind smoke and mirrors is one of my favorite things to do.
 The bells and whistles are my daily nourishment's.
It took a little soul searching to find her.
She was sitting on a saggy kitchen chair.
Typing furiously with one finger.
No make up on.
No hair gel in sight.
Button of her jeans were undone and the 6 inches of child-birth reminders was hanging over the top.
She was giggling.
Smiling.

Exhausted.

She's here.

I really am glad to know her.  She is one bonified nut job.  Full of glitter and hanging on by a thread at times.  But pretty cool.

I learned to let it go.  Let it all go.

The dreams of a life I thought I was supposed to have. 
To say good-bye to relationships that held no hope.
To focus on possibilities.


 I focused on my life now.
 Erasing the past hopes and replacing them with future goals.
I already knew that by 7 a.m. everyday I had the choice.
 To roll out of bed with a smile and positive outlook to a new day .

 Or wither in pain from my lack of spine cushioning and arthritic joints.

Every friggen day I HAVE THAT CHOICE.
Pretty cool.
A serious gift.

 My friggen choice.

I was reminded to lighten up.
 To not sweat the small stuff.
 Raising 5 kids is no picnic. There is never enough money.  Not enough time. 
Always several balls in the air.
 Juggling with one arm tied behind your back.
I did not get the manual when I left the hospital. 
I will continue to do the best I can.
Mistakes along the way.

But laughing through what doesn't kill me.

I was reminded to surround myself with what makes me stronger.

 Positive people...yada yada yada...But happy things too.

Like having milk chocolate in the house at all times.
An amazing fresh scent in the shower.
Cotton socks.

A kick ass pair of senseless shoes (maybe more than one.)
A comfy pillow.

Holly can get annoying. 
I get it. 
She lives large all the time. 
Spends too much.  Eats the last bite.
Shops, talks, creates, paints, reads, travels,
moves ..
always in search of more.

Kind of exhausting. 

But I don't want a life that I am just satisfied.
I want to see more.
To taste more.

To hear more.

Fantasize more.

Be more.

To feel more.

and most of all,

To Love more.

Why not?

 Its Holly's world.

Not yours.

You can create you're own.

Paint your own picture.

All you need is time.

Kindness in all forms brings on great happiness. 

 It bounces back ten-fold.  A kind word travels miles.  A touch, a smile can fill someones soul for eternity.

Why not give it more freely.

It costs nothing, and the rewards are priceless.
Slap on a smile.
Say hello.
Look me in the eye.

"Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace."  Buddha.

I love to give. 
Give big. 
My time. 
My energy.
 My wisdom.
 My strengths.

Giving of ones self,   is free.

It  feeds what may be missing in yourself.
 Its not about money. Its about kindness.
"I have found that among other benefits, giving liberates the soul of the giver."  Maya Angelou.

The Author of the Happiness Project asked her readers to go back in time.  To remember what made them happy as a child.  To return to that place.
I took some time on that one.

Tap dancing? 

 Nope. 

 Bowling?

Nope, nails too long.

Barbies?

I came up with painting.

I used to paint.  (This line always brings me back to the 'Notebook'.  Remember when she says "I used to paint!"  and her fiance said "then paint.")

Duh.

I was met with extreme opposition at my house when I arrived home with paints and canvas in hand.  Really? 

Who asked you?

Doubters and haters step aside- I have no room for you.

My first painting was done.

  Still no applause.

My next painting.  

 Maybe a chuckle here and there from the peanut gallery.

 (it is actually hung in a kindergarten classroom.)

Third then fourth...OH- I love painting.

It doesn't take me back to 11 years old.  But it  does fulfill some small void.  A finished canvas is magical.

Don't really care if I'm not on my way to the Art Institute.

I'm happy.

 I have discovered that I am,

an author.

Published and read.

I am an activist.

Heard and listened.

I am a giver.

Of my time and money.

I am a painter.

A stylist.

A mom.

A caregiver,

and even a

Rock Star.

Seriously.

Maybe I have conjured that up in my head.

I don't play an instrument.

I sang in a band.

Fine, that was 30 years ago.

I think I sound like Pink while in the shower.

I may make up my own lyrics.
But I'm happy.

I am a firm believer that YOU are YOU.

What ever and whom ever that may be.

As long as that person is kind.

Gracious and giving.

You are on the right path.

"Dreaming about being and actress, is more exciting than being one."  Marilyn Monroe.

I was almost finished with the book.  I loved every part of it.
But then I came to the chapter on Catastrophe's.

The Author went on to say that in order to really be happy, you must see how bad it could get.
 Appreciate your life by realizing how small your problems are.

Yuck.
 Kinda not my idea of happy reading.  But I got the point.
She was going on vacation and was bringing along 3 books on Catastrophe's.
The first book was on Cancer.
The 2nd book was on Brain Tumors.
The 3rd book.

(Take a deep breath)

The 3rd book of catastrophes was on....
Having a child with down Syndrome.
WHAT?
Wait- I was waiting for the Tsunami.
OR War.
WTF.

Your idea of great tragedy is having a Down Syndrome child?

I threw the book across the room. Called Miss Gretchen  a few choice words....
Holy cow-

I thought I liked her.

Don't try to change my mind on her ignorance.  Yes the lesson here is that God knew Not to give her the greatest gift of unconditional love.The book got tossed in the trash.

But I did walk away with a few wonderful lessons.

 Happiness is in the eye of the beholder.

I cannot change you.

Only myself.

I choose to live a happy life.  To surround myself with goodness.  To give till my last day.

To BE THE CHANGE I WANT TO SEE.

Kiss my happy ass Gretchen.