To all the Veteran’s who make our country free.

To all the women before who gave me my independence.

To all the therapists who work with Boo to make her strong, stubborn but independent.

I thank you.

Today is the official end of the school year for the girls. Seriously I don’t know why they even had to go today. I mean really, a Tuesday and it’s a half-day. If the school God’s loved us school would be year-round.

Apparently the kids bribe better than the adults. Because here is what I get to look forward to for the next 70 days. That is SEVENTY days and nights of
70 days I will hear: why can’t I get a pool?

70 nights I will hear: can I have a sleep over?

70 days I will hear: I’m bored (at the 71st time I reserve the right to go into the bedroom with a Hefty bag to get rid of all the toys that are boring)

70 nights I will hear: but it’s too light out to go to bed

70 days I will hear: why do you have to go to work

70 nights I will hear: please just one more ice cream

70 days I will hear: I don’t like sunscreen

70 nights I will hear: My burn hurts

70 days I will hear: the ocean cleans me

70 nights I will hear: can I take a longer bath

And on the 71st day they will hear me exclaim: TIME FOR SCHOOL!!!

How do you plan on spending your summer vacation?

There is a lot to be thankful for, if you don’t obsess about the pain in the assness that is life. This weekend is Father’s Day. As the oldest child woke us up at 2 am this morning I turned to my husband and said, well you wouldn’t be able to celebrate Father’s Day without her.

Here are 10 other things to be thankful for this Father’s day:

10. That my brother is gullible enough to believe that Father’s day is meant to be spent showering his wife with attention since she gave him the greatest gift ever.

9. That Boo drove in the Jeep without throwing her shoes out of it.

8. That Abby has exactly six and ONE HALF DAY left of fourth grade math

7. That we took Jampa Joe’s breath away by sending him flowers, to his office on Friday for Jampa’s Day.

6. That David’s wish for Father’s Day was to take a walk and end up in an Irish Pub.

5. That living in a small town means during a town birthday party Abby will shout out hey that’s not Mrs. B walking with Mr. B other townsfolk will chuckle and say, no that’s his mother. This is also how small-town rumors get started.

4. That when my world got rocked, again, I had friends there to hold me up. 

3. That we raised $3,000 for Boston Children’s Hospital this hospital that saved my Boo’s life.

2. That Abby has an aunt and uncle who took her to see Maleficent so I didn’t have to go.

1. That I have this man, the father of my daughters who drives me nuts but makes me laugh all at once.

My friend Dana had a great post the other day. I told her I was stealing her idea. She gave me permission, so I am saying that I am not stealing her idea but rather participating in a finish that sentence kind of thing (another steal). There are supposedly seven layers of hell, right? Or is that just deadly sins.

Either way, my personal version of hell would include….
1. Going a day without an M&M.

2. Having to create a crap, I mean CRAFT, project with Abby.

3. Doing Every Day Math homework. Oh wait….

4. Sitting down to a lobstah dinner and not having an appetite.

5. Not having my village people. If only my village wore costumes, though. That would be kind of cool.

6. Living life without a sense of humor 

7. The Bruins being tied going into game 7 with the Habs (Canadians) and waiting praying for the win. Oh crap that’s tonight!

The Catholic in me thinks asking God to intervene in a sporting event is kind of sacrilege. However, the Big Bad Bruins fan in me is willing to take the risk. 

Tell me, what is your lighter side of hell?

Dear Mom,

It’s Mother’s Day. The day that only exists because you are my mom. Not to be too self-important but if it wasn’t for the children this would be just another Sunday. You would probably be doing yard work or groceries.
Who are we kidding? If you weren’t a mom you would probably be on the beach somewhere enjoying the spring weather and not worrying about the million things that come along with being a mom.

Because of me you will get to celebrate this Sunday. Why do you get a special day dedicated to just you? In short it’s due to your survival instincts. The added fact that you arranged your vacation to spend this day with us just proves how much of a mom you are.

So, on this 10 things of thankful, thanks for being my mom.

1. For letting me survive my toddler years. When I made myself throw up when you brought Scott home. For throwing Ryan in the air when you brought her home.

2. For making a home when there wasn’t one. For being homeless but never stop providing us a home.

3. For the dance parties with your friends. When you allowed us to stay up late and dance to Neil Diamond, Barry Manilow and back to the oldies Friday night.

4. For letting me fire the babysitter at age 12 and take care of the younger ones.

5. For letting me survive the teenage years. When I was depressed before depression existed. For letting me spend much needed time with Gigi, Jim and Gram to heal. For loving me when I didn’t love you.

6. For putting me in front of the Bruins when I wouldn’t sleep as an infant and raising a girl who knows what an off-side, an icing and an intolerance for the Habs.

7. For being my first call when I had Abby. 

8. For understanding when I said, please don’t come when I had Boo.

9. For not understanding what a Boo tantrum is, but for being there when it happens.

10. For being my mom. When it is good, when it is bad and when it is heartbreaking.

You, my mother, are my rock. My hero. My go-to person when life, marriage and motherhood gets too much. You get that Tia is my first call, but that you are my soft landing. I wouldn’t be half the mom I am without your support, guidance or experience.

You might not always understand. 

But you are always there.

And for that alone I am forever thankful.

Remember when Spring Break was bikini’s, beach, drinks, sun and fun? Yeah, me neither. Going to college in your 30’s makes Spring Break very different than when you are barely 21. 

It’s even more surreal when you are old, gray and traveling with children.



The upside is there is no hangover, no worry that there will be a picture of you dancing on the bar and no fear that you woke up next to a serial killer.

Instead you wake up with a child drooling down your neck while your husband hangs on to his 1/4″ of the bed the other child is trying to knock him off of.

Another upside is you stay in your parent’s spare room so you save a boatload of money. They house you, feed you, supply you with the alcohol they once banned and bonus watch your children!

They also take you for pedicures

Let you make wine:

You can cheer your older sister on while she crashes your father into strangers:

You prove you are never too old to hunt for Easter Eggs

You have some Tea with Grandma

You ride some horses

You take your first selfie on the big girl swings

You dance on stage

Then you settle in for the long ride home

Like I said, it is very different than Spring Break is very different than how it used to be. But it sure was fun!

When your child is born you are overcome with a lot of emotions. Then you get home and realize that you misplaced that instruction manual handed out to all new mothers.  Never fear, help is here!

Truth is, that “what to expect” is a bunch of bull crap. Here for you is the the real story of what to expect.
1. Don’t try to get the gum/lollipop/sticky thing out of your child’s hair. The more you try to remove it the more intwined it will become. Instead, cut around it and tell the preschool teacher that your sweet little thing got a hold of some safety scissors. 

2. You will never sleep again. Just when you get the baby to sleep through the night you will realize that you were the one in training. You will learn to rest like a combat soldier. Deep sleep one minute, the next wide awake realizing that your child is asleep. Around age 8 you will begin to sleep more soundly. Then they become teenagers and you start all over again. Remember those naps your mom told you to take? This is her revenge.

3. Speaking of grandparents. Sure they seem all benign and loving. That’s how they trick you. When they were your parents you had to make your bed, eat your veggies and clean your room. As grandparents they will take your child, give them sugar and toys that make noise. Then they send them home. Thus ensuring #2 

4. Your child will eventually be potty trained. Honestly, no child graduates high school with a diaper unless there is a medical need. Give yourself a break. You are doing fine. It is easier to train your husband to put the seat down then to explain bowel functions to a toddler.

5. Kids come with homework. Not the homework you might recall. But math homework you will have to Google to figure out how to answer the math problem they way they are supposed to. 

6. You will know, by heart, the words to every song on the Disney channel or movie. You will not know one person up for a Grammy, an Oscar or a Tony.

7. Phrases you never expected will come out of your mouth. For example, no you cannot tickle my butt or let me shut the windows so I can scream at you without the neighbors calling the cops.

8. Pre-child you thought multitasking was taking a call at work, while answering an e-mail and texting your girlfriends. You will soon learn the true art of multitasking: Going to the bathroom in a public restroom while holding your foot on the door so one child cannot escape while the other sits on your lap.

9. Your child will embarrass you. Seriously embarrass you. They will say inappropriate things (in and out of public), they will dress funny and they will one day tell the teacher: My mom had popcorn for dinner last night but made me eat all of my baked beans.

And the last gem, courtesy of Abby….

10. Babies are not fun. But 10 year-olds are so hang in there.

March Madness, forget College Basketball. Dudes the Bruins were on! In all seriousness the month of March was incredible for me. And a bit ‘mad’ as in crazy busy but for something important.

I joined a fantastic group of people at Abby’s school and created Special Needs Awareness Month.
The program happened because of Abby. We were at a therapy appointment of Boo’s and she saw a classmate. She told me that she never realized XX was special needs. She wish she had known because she would have helped him more. I was shocked. How could this child who lives with a special needs sibling not see the uniqueness of a classmate?

Thus an initiative was born. Working with teachers, parents and administrators at Abby’s school we created a month-long, school-wide event. It was a simple concept:

Each week we had conversation starters, activities, videos and books for the classrooms to use. Every class, kindergarten to grade 8, participated. Every discipline, gym to library to music to art added to the program.

Week One focused on the children’s definition of challenge: something that is hard for you to do without help. We had pictures of celebrities with disabilities (the girls swooned over Justin Timberlake–ADD and Orlando Bloom–dyslexia). 

So what is it? What is something hard for you to do? 

The response was heartwarming to heartbreaking: It’s hard for me to catch frogs to I spend a lot of time in the hospital.

Each week the program grew. And you know what? It worked. The school nurse during W3/Down Syndrome week ended up sharing a story about her favorite cousin. With the entire school. Children went home and talked to their parents about empathy and those with special needs. They saw the video Just Like You and understood that friendships are built on love not need.

We had each student write down their challenge and hung them in school entrance. A teacher walked by, read a few and said, “These are all my challenges”. We all have trouble making friends, speaking in public, doing math homework. Some of our challenges are more difficult: being in the hospital, having asthma when you want to run, losing a parent, having dyslexia.

A young boy expressed that he wasn’t afraid to say he had ADD. Today. I pray for his tomorrow.

My friend, Kristi, recently asked how to create a world of empathy and understanding. A world where we wouldn’t have to worry about her beautiful son or my Boo being bullied because they are not typical. 

It starts with you. And me. And our children. Integration means that your typical child will become friends with Boo or Tucker or Kayla or Little Dude. They become friends with children who are not typical but have something extra. Children’s ideals are formed at such a young age. They see friends where parents see ability.  

Like the video says, understanding leads to acceptance. By having open dialogue with students and their challenges our school tried to create a small epicenter of tolerance, acceptance and peace.

How about you? What’s your challenge? 

I urge each and every one of you to begin seeing the ability in a child and not the disability. If anyone would like to implement this in your school please e-mail me at firebailey@gmail.com and I will send you our program.

It wasn’t easy….I am sure we will rethink this decision over and over again. We had no choice, really. We thought that we would decide in May if Boo would transition to Kindergarten. But the deadline was mid-March.

Boo has been in this integrated preschool since she was three years old. We love her teachers. And when I say love I do not mean the way you love chocolate but the way you love your God. They have been patient, kind, loving and words cannot explain the feelings we have for them. They have guided us, provided ideas and shown up when we needed them. 

I was afraid to leave them for kindergarten. Their security. Their understanding of Boo. Their acceptance of my limitations. They understand that Abby does Boo’s homework. They get that I cannot handle field trips. Or that work interferes with Nursery Rhyme day.

That her dad will show up in his hunting regalia.

Kindergarten? That is a huge step for us. We want Boo to transition with her peers. This is the first year she has been invited to birthday parties. She has always been accepted, don’t misunderstand, by her peers. But this was the first year she was came home telling me she played with someone other than her therapist.

I want her to go forward. To transition. To be normal. Freaking normal going to kindergarten on schedule. To have gym and art and library. To have lunch in cafeteria. To be with her age-peers.

But she isn’t ready. I know it. I swear I know it. But…

She is being left behind. Again. Only two classmate of hers will be there in the fall. And, no offense, they are boys. They are not little girls who understand the importance of Princess Sophia. We will have to begin again with the parents who know Boo. Who do not get that she is petite and 2 years older than their child.

There are only upsides to Boo being left behind. She will have more time to learn her colors, numbers and letters. She know the routine and is comfortable. Her teachers encourage her growth in all areas. It is more just me realizing that, once again, Boo isn’t ready to move forward. 

I spoke with her pre-K teacher who told me that Boo will be with her until she retires.

I’m kind of okay with that. Because who wouldn’t want their child to be with the teacher who loves and nurtures them? 

I’m not your typical wife. I don’t put limits on David. He wants to go hunting….go and bring us back a bird. He wants to go fishing…please bring me back a Mako shark. He wants to take overtime…please take the night shift so I can work and also have the remote control at night.

Last week two fire fighters lost their lives in Boston. It’s not the first time and certainly not the last. By the time David and I got engaged, eons ago, he had been electrocuted, dropped 20 feet in a “training” exercise and been in numerous situations that should turn my hair straight.

I will never forget the call I got, at work, saying David was fine. I replied, of course he is not realizing that he had been at a fire (off duty) and the power line going to the house had burnt but was still live. And fell onto his helmet. He was flown 20 feet with only the fire engine stopping his trajectory. I left work and went home to let the dog out. I thought he was at the hospital. Imagine my surprise to find him on the couch. Smelling burnt. Wondering why the heck I was home early. By the way, he smelt burnt for almost a week.

A few years later came 9/11. When I sat home alone and watched the coverage of the World Trade Center heroes and victims. He was at the Station in case something happened in Boston. I sat at home, tears falling, realizing just what I was getting into planning a wedding to a fire fighter. 

Then the Marathon Bombing happened. Numerous fires happened. All the time I realized that as much as David loves me and the girls he loves his calling more. He is a fire fighter. He is the only person I know who is doing what he said his dream was in kindergarten.  

This week David will be attending the funerals and wakes of two men who gave their lives to save the innocent.  Men he never met but who were his brothers. Ed Walsh, a lieutenant who left three children under the age of ten and Mike Kennedy a Marine Vet who survived our Country in more ways than one.

A friend asked me if I was okay. I was surprised and answered I didn’t know the men who died. In truth I never listen to the scanner. I never wonder if David will be okay. 

I am a fire fighter’s wife who understands that the call to duty is not necessarily to my own. But that is the man I adore. The man who will answer the call to save someone’s life. The man who will leave when I am putting dinner on the table or a short skirt on for date night. The man who as much as he loves his family will put us second to his first duty…

To save others.

May peace be with the families left behind.