Friday, December 26, 2014
Monday, December 22, 2014
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Deck the Halls with Bleach Spray, a special needs Mom has a wake up call
On Tuesday, December 2, 2014 Daniel was happy, smiling, and enjoying a day at the mall with me. Everything was normal. On Wednesday he went to school, and didn't seem right. He was having unusually frequent bowel movements. By the time 6pm rolled around he was going every 10 minutes and he was extremely dehydrated. I called the GI service at Yale, and they recommended that I take him to the ER for hydration via IV. Which I did. By the time we got to Danbury, his bottom was red and painful. The waiting room was literally PACKED. While we were waiting Daniel had a bowel movement and it was so painful that he briefly passed out, which bought us a ride to the top of the waiting list.
Fast forward to 1:00am and the doctor basically told me I could take him home and give him fluids through the g tube. So I did that. I was extremely exhausted, and stayed up all night on Wednesday. On Thursday morning the stools were worse, and he had fever. I called GI again and they told me to take him to the "pediatrician" to have her "assess" him for dehydration, if she felt he needed to be seen at the hospital they would have him admitted. She didn't think he needed to go to the ER so she gave me anti fungal ointment for the rash and said to "wait it out", she said, "it will pass in another day or so". Friday morning, it was far far worse. The pediatrician had told me to call her by 8 am so I called over there. They asked me to come get a bunch of things to take a stool culture. It was really gross, but we got the nasty poop into the vials and I rushed it back over to the doctors office.
The GI service at Yale had also told me to restart Daniel's regular feeds at 75% strength. Which we did. After a few hours, he was in distress from stomach pain and the rash was horrific. The stools were literally non stop. I called again. The GI service started to suggest I take him to Danbury again and I said no, I am bringing him to Yale. They agreed, and I packed up some bags and got Daniel and myself to Yale New Haven Children's hospital. We went in through the emergency department, but got quickly admitted. Daniel was severely dehydrated.
Friday night into Saturday he was in tremendous pain from the rash, and was on complete belly rest, having only IV fluids. Saturday afternoon I got a call that he tested positive for C Dif.
I think we could have bi passed all of this back and forth, see the pediatrician, go to Danbury, go home, bullshit, and just gone straight to Yale and had a culture right away. Instead, he is 4 days deep into the worst rash I have ever seen.
In the midst of Daniel being sick so many things were affecting me. My house stopped having heat and hot water on Thursday, I was unable to go to work and I now I have lost income with Christmas around the corner, my van went dead on me twice while driving to New Haven, and I am away from Thomas, John, Henry and Theo.
Sitting alone in the room with Daniel asleep, Friday night, I felt the urge to cry. A wave of depression rushed over my head and I had never felt more alone that I did sitting in that room. The holidays used to be a time of friends, food, dancing, music, laughter, sharing, loving, caring. Now I can't even go to the one little Christmas function we were invited to, Breakfast with Santa for Dream come true. That was this weekend, on Sunday. I feel like the "normal" world passed me by like a big cruise ship full of smiling people, leaving me alone on the "island of special needs Moms". We don't get to be free spirited and joyful, and crafty and creative... especially when we have sick disabled children. Or worse, when we are in the midst of writing a eulogy for a deceased child, or grieving the loss of a child. We live in a clinical world, where managing meds, appointments, schedules, doctors, therapies etc. takes hold of our free spirit and nails it down so it can't move. So in our state of being captive to this life, we learn to love and adapt as best we can. We want to put blinders on to the people who were luckier than we were when they were blessed with a healthy family. We don't want to feel envious at the families with plenty of money and time to have social functions, vacations, and plain old jolly old lives. We want to scream and shout when people are gawking at us in public, because its hard enough to find a place to park, and let the wheelchair down, let alone have our wheelchair bound son gawked at by a woman in a Christmas sweater coming out of the Michael Kors store. And we want our child to be accepted and loved, not stared at like a freak show.
The hospital is a place where health care workers and doctors actually speak a language we completely understand and we can reiterate our child's medical history down to every little detail and date. And yet, as I sit here I can not remember the last time I did anything socially, or freely without worry. I worry all of the time. I have for 17 years. I see lights going up, and Christmas decorations, and trees on top of cars. I feel sad. I miss badly needed work, and my income goes down the toilet, and then I have to pay for parking, and food, and my furnace repair, and my van needs work now.
Christmas what???
Back to Daniel, Saturday afternoon the doctor on call for the pediatrician called me to tell me that Daniel tested positive for C Dificile. A very nasty and contagious bacterial infection of the intestines. So now they have some answer as to why he is so sick. I don't know how he caught it, but the main thing is I am right now, sitting here, writing, in a chair, next to a bed, in a hospital room while my child is sick and moaning.
Even when things settle, I was just reminded again, that I will continually get knocked off of the complacency pedestal. I am living on the island of misfit toys. Wondering if Santa will remember us. I don't own a cocktail dress anymore. I don't own high heel shoes, or sparkly jewelry. I change diapers and do laundry. We work and struggle to keep the roof over our head. We love, we laugh, we smile, we joke, we live as best we can, watching as the lights of the ship of "normal life" sails off with its joyful holiday music playing and scents of gourmet dinners.
Daniel is smiling watching Despicable Me 2, and somewhere a baby is crying. I can hear the sound of life star helicopter landing on the roof right now. I know that I am not alone. I accept my world, and I love my children more than my own life. I don't know if I will ever attend a holiday function again, or if I ever want to, because I have been jolted, jarred, emotionally scarred, traumatized, and given the most infinite and incredible love at the same time. I'm different than you. You know who you are. And I am happy for you that don't have to live on the island of misfits, because you wouldn't fit in here.
So I will keep doing the best that I can. Managing this life and this family as best as a mother knows how. I will try my best not think back on what I "thought" life should be like as a Mommy, because that is definitely NOT helpful. This is a way of life. This is a way of love. This is a way of being. This is a way of adapting. This is my way. This is what being Daniel's Mom is all about. This is who I am and my typical children, and my husband are all equally living a life adapted and affected by this guy name Daniel. The one most affected though, is Mom. My world stood still on the day Daniel was diagnosed, and then it exploded into millions of shards of life. Then they reformed themselves into an altered reality. And God spoke to me somehow, and said, "here, this is for you. you are going to have to live here. Don't worry, you will figure it out."
So it goes. C Dif. thanks for the holiday hospital wake up call. Deck the halls with bleach spray.
Fast forward to 1:00am and the doctor basically told me I could take him home and give him fluids through the g tube. So I did that. I was extremely exhausted, and stayed up all night on Wednesday. On Thursday morning the stools were worse, and he had fever. I called GI again and they told me to take him to the "pediatrician" to have her "assess" him for dehydration, if she felt he needed to be seen at the hospital they would have him admitted. She didn't think he needed to go to the ER so she gave me anti fungal ointment for the rash and said to "wait it out", she said, "it will pass in another day or so". Friday morning, it was far far worse. The pediatrician had told me to call her by 8 am so I called over there. They asked me to come get a bunch of things to take a stool culture. It was really gross, but we got the nasty poop into the vials and I rushed it back over to the doctors office.
The GI service at Yale had also told me to restart Daniel's regular feeds at 75% strength. Which we did. After a few hours, he was in distress from stomach pain and the rash was horrific. The stools were literally non stop. I called again. The GI service started to suggest I take him to Danbury again and I said no, I am bringing him to Yale. They agreed, and I packed up some bags and got Daniel and myself to Yale New Haven Children's hospital. We went in through the emergency department, but got quickly admitted. Daniel was severely dehydrated. Friday night into Saturday he was in tremendous pain from the rash, and was on complete belly rest, having only IV fluids. Saturday afternoon I got a call that he tested positive for C Dif.
I think we could have bi passed all of this back and forth, see the pediatrician, go to Danbury, go home, bullshit, and just gone straight to Yale and had a culture right away. Instead, he is 4 days deep into the worst rash I have ever seen.
In the midst of Daniel being sick so many things were affecting me. My house stopped having heat and hot water on Thursday, I was unable to go to work and I now I have lost income with Christmas around the corner, my van went dead on me twice while driving to New Haven, and I am away from Thomas, John, Henry and Theo.
Sitting alone in the room with Daniel asleep, Friday night, I felt the urge to cry. A wave of depression rushed over my head and I had never felt more alone that I did sitting in that room. The holidays used to be a time of friends, food, dancing, music, laughter, sharing, loving, caring. Now I can't even go to the one little Christmas function we were invited to, Breakfast with Santa for Dream come true. That was this weekend, on Sunday. I feel like the "normal" world passed me by like a big cruise ship full of smiling people, leaving me alone on the "island of special needs Moms". We don't get to be free spirited and joyful, and crafty and creative... especially when we have sick disabled children. Or worse, when we are in the midst of writing a eulogy for a deceased child, or grieving the loss of a child. We live in a clinical world, where managing meds, appointments, schedules, doctors, therapies etc. takes hold of our free spirit and nails it down so it can't move. So in our state of being captive to this life, we learn to love and adapt as best we can. We want to put blinders on to the people who were luckier than we were when they were blessed with a healthy family. We don't want to feel envious at the families with plenty of money and time to have social functions, vacations, and plain old jolly old lives. We want to scream and shout when people are gawking at us in public, because its hard enough to find a place to park, and let the wheelchair down, let alone have our wheelchair bound son gawked at by a woman in a Christmas sweater coming out of the Michael Kors store. And we want our child to be accepted and loved, not stared at like a freak show.
Christmas what???
Back to Daniel, Saturday afternoon the doctor on call for the pediatrician called me to tell me that Daniel tested positive for C Dificile. A very nasty and contagious bacterial infection of the intestines. So now they have some answer as to why he is so sick. I don't know how he caught it, but the main thing is I am right now, sitting here, writing, in a chair, next to a bed, in a hospital room while my child is sick and moaning.
Even when things settle, I was just reminded again, that I will continually get knocked off of the complacency pedestal. I am living on the island of misfit toys. Wondering if Santa will remember us. I don't own a cocktail dress anymore. I don't own high heel shoes, or sparkly jewelry. I change diapers and do laundry. We work and struggle to keep the roof over our head. We love, we laugh, we smile, we joke, we live as best we can, watching as the lights of the ship of "normal life" sails off with its joyful holiday music playing and scents of gourmet dinners.
Daniel is smiling watching Despicable Me 2, and somewhere a baby is crying. I can hear the sound of life star helicopter landing on the roof right now. I know that I am not alone. I accept my world, and I love my children more than my own life. I don't know if I will ever attend a holiday function again, or if I ever want to, because I have been jolted, jarred, emotionally scarred, traumatized, and given the most infinite and incredible love at the same time. I'm different than you. You know who you are. And I am happy for you that don't have to live on the island of misfits, because you wouldn't fit in here.
So I will keep doing the best that I can. Managing this life and this family as best as a mother knows how. I will try my best not think back on what I "thought" life should be like as a Mommy, because that is definitely NOT helpful. This is a way of life. This is a way of love. This is a way of being. This is a way of adapting. This is my way. This is what being Daniel's Mom is all about. This is who I am and my typical children, and my husband are all equally living a life adapted and affected by this guy name Daniel. The one most affected though, is Mom. My world stood still on the day Daniel was diagnosed, and then it exploded into millions of shards of life. Then they reformed themselves into an altered reality. And God spoke to me somehow, and said, "here, this is for you. you are going to have to live here. Don't worry, you will figure it out."
So it goes. C Dif. thanks for the holiday hospital wake up call. Deck the halls with bleach spray.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Monday, November 24, 2014
When Daniel turned 17 years old.....
On November 22, 2014 my son Daniel turned 17 years old. Unlike most kids, having a birthday for Daniel has always been a challenge for me. He doesn't eat via mouth, so food is not logical. Gifts? Well we can get him things he needs, but he isn't really cognizant of what he needs. We sing to him, he likes that. We give him balloons, he loves balloons. It's not typical.Daniel is not able to speak. But we know he loves to watch and look at everything. The mall, in our case, the Danbury Mall in Danbury CT is his favorite spot to just take in the sensations, sights, sounds, smells, etc. He goes into this really happy state when we take him into the mall.
So on his birthday my husband John, son Thomas, Daniel and I walked around in the mall. We ran some errands, had some food, but the main purpose was for Daniel to enjoy being at the mall.
Last year, when he turned 16, he received over 800 cards from all over the world as a part of a "card shower" that we had started. It then turned into gifts, and visits from many people who just wanted him to know that they loved him. It was honestly, one of the most amazing things I have ever experienced, the opening of the mailbox daily to see piles of cards and pictures. Wonderful. This year we didn't do a card shower, I really just have been so incredibly busy and overwhelmed.
And Daniel received two cards, one from his grandparents, and one from his Best Buddy, Ryan Williams, who we have recently become friends with through the best Buddies program at Newtown High school. Ryan also brought Daniel a Newtown Marching Band and Guard sweatshirt so he could wear it when he goes to watch Thomas. That was really sweet, Ryan and his Mom visited for a while, and it was a nice visit. He's a great kid.
Special needs children like Daniel, do not have the ability to ask for anything, They can't make a list, and stress out your financial capabilities. Daniel is sweet, and quiet. He asks for absolutely nothing but finds joy in being with people. Sometimes, he doesn't react and it seems as if he is just staring off into space looking at the ceiling. Well, he probably is, but he is most definitely aware of the fact that people are with him.
And there is the mother guilt. "I didn't do enough for him", "I should have done more for him"!!!
After all, the fact that he has been alive and with us for 17 years far outweighs the odds they set for him when he was a baby. He is a miracle. He is a great teacher of many many lessons. He receives love so willingly and looks at you with eyes that are deep and probing and gentle.
My life is completely dedicated to Daniel. Yes... don't get that wrong... Yes I am dedicated to my entire family, however, they have abilities and independence. Daniel however, needs someone to be his everything. To arrange everything. To monitor, everything. To manage everything. That's me. Julie Hasselberger. I am Daniel's Mom.
Did I do enough for his birthday by surrounding him with balloons and taking him to the mall? I don't know. I don't know what "enough" is for Daniel. I just know that I love him so very much.So what, it was quiet. We heard from Glen Schallman, with a lovely "Happy Birthday" song, and from the teachers and kids at school, who also said Happy birthday in a video. His best buddy visited. And on face book probably a hundred Happy Birthday Daniel wishes, but he can't read, so I have to read them to him.
He is 17 years old. For me... its incredible and I want to shout it out loud to the world. But it seems as though over time, as special needs children get older, the world just isn't listening anymore. The world has grown weary of helping, hearing, caring, being there.
THAT is why Daniel has me. I will never stop being his completely devoted Mommy. Everything else takes a back seat. He matters the most. And my role of Mommy to Daniel, AND Sarah, AND Thomas, continues to remain the focus of my life. I wouldn't choose anything else.
Special needs children rarely have friends. When they have a birthday, it seems as though each year people care less and less. It was so quiet on November 22, 2014. But, Daniel turned 17. And he smiled alot. He knows we love him.
Life is just that way.
Watch this video from our you tube channel, "Julie Hasselberger" Daniel...goes to the bone doctor, every day is a new adventure.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Sunday, November 2, 2014
A QUIET BIRTHDAY
John William Hasselberger turns 48
Happy Birthday to my husband
Reflecting on life in the future with Daniel
November 1, 2014
The start of a new month, and a sample of what the future has in store, I suppose. With both of my other children away, it was just John, Daniel and I in the house this weekend. The quiet is both relaxing and unsettling at the same time.
Cold air blasts around the leaky windows and leaves have once again made a blanket of mess on the lawn. I am reminded of the work that needs to be done on this house that I just can't afford. I am suffering from terrible sinus headaches and it seems that the bad weather is truly on its way. John turned 48, and we really had an uneventful day just trying to buy him boots took energy. We never bought him boots because he is one man who is hard to please, and has buyers remorse. He is a funny simple guy with a giant sarcastic sense of humor and self battles with controlling anger and fighting his own demons. He's been calm and pleasant lately and that makes me very happy.
We still still love each other very much.
I wonder what life will be like when Daniel is older and we are older. Where will we be? November is always a pivotal month for me. I don't look forward to the holidays, because its completely materialized, but I do look forward to being together with my family. We don't often leave our home anymore, because having a teenager who is severely disabled makes visits to other people's homes quite difficult. No ramps, needing to change him, screaming meltdowns, positional discomfort etc. Long drives are hard on him, and to drive him three hours to a place where he can only sit in one spot in his wheelchair while everyone else eats and talks, makes me feel sad for him. So as the years have progressed, we much prefer to arrange for a nurse on at least part of the holiday, and just have it here at home. Very few of my family members or John's actually come to visit. It breaks my heart because I am the social extrovert, but I can't put Daniel through the travelling trauma. So what has happened? We have cousins, and even a grand niece that we have not yet met. Relatives have just "continued along" and not included us, because everyone just assumes we are not able to participate.
That being said, I have no ill feelings towards anyone related to us, I know everyone has their own bundle of things to do and places to go. Thank goodness for face book, because I would know absolutely nothing about my cousins in distant states. I've tried to communicate with most of them, but only three actually reply in any depth. I have accepted that we are, in many ways, like outcasts, due to the different type of life we live. It does not mean we are unhappy, but we are limited in what we can do, and where we can go.
So we carry on in quiet. Surrounded by the comforts of home. Quietly separated from the world where normal "mobile" live in our limited capacity situation. Keeping Daniel happy and healthy takes alot of energy. Ensuring that Sarah and Thomas get as much love and support as we can humanly give them. Friends in our local community provide so much kindness and love. If I needed anything, and posted it on line or in the Bee, someone in this town would make it happen. And sometimes we do small random acts of kindness ourselves, just to give back in some way.
Anticipating the holidays, also brings memories of sadness and loss here at home, so sometimes quiet reflection isnt a bad thing.
Being the Mom of a child who can not speak, or walk, or talk, will forever leave me curious as to what is going on inside his head. That sparkly smile just melts my heart.
John had a very quiet birthday. He is ok with that. On facebook, people go to wonderful Halloween parties, our to fancy restaurants, and have fun time with family. I would have once loved to get all dressed up and go out somewhere fun. But nurses leave at 5 on weekends. That is my reality. As I have come to accept it, I have let go of wanting to do what the "normal free mobile non disabled" world can do, and I have accepted that the quiet love, and necessary care giving is God's calling for me. I am lucky to have my son still with me.
So it was quiet yesterday, and today. I will be glad when it is January and we are moving towards the Spring. I will invite many people to come an visit for birthdays this month, for Thanksgiving, for Christmas, but few if any will be able to make it. We are not exactly close, or on anyones priority list, except for our immediate family.
Sarah turns 19 and Daniel turns 17 this month. So much to think about. We are driving along a bumpy road in an old car, we hit pot holes and big cracks, that is the metaphor for my life. But we don't stop because we know that our destination is going to be the most incredible fantastic place. And the road will eventually stop being bumpy.
Happy Birthday John.
Happy Birthday to my husband
Reflecting on life in the future with Daniel
November 1, 2014
The start of a new month, and a sample of what the future has in store, I suppose. With both of my other children away, it was just John, Daniel and I in the house this weekend. The quiet is both relaxing and unsettling at the same time.
Cold air blasts around the leaky windows and leaves have once again made a blanket of mess on the lawn. I am reminded of the work that needs to be done on this house that I just can't afford. I am suffering from terrible sinus headaches and it seems that the bad weather is truly on its way. John turned 48, and we really had an uneventful day just trying to buy him boots took energy. We never bought him boots because he is one man who is hard to please, and has buyers remorse. He is a funny simple guy with a giant sarcastic sense of humor and self battles with controlling anger and fighting his own demons. He's been calm and pleasant lately and that makes me very happy.
We still still love each other very much.
I wonder what life will be like when Daniel is older and we are older. Where will we be? November is always a pivotal month for me. I don't look forward to the holidays, because its completely materialized, but I do look forward to being together with my family. We don't often leave our home anymore, because having a teenager who is severely disabled makes visits to other people's homes quite difficult. No ramps, needing to change him, screaming meltdowns, positional discomfort etc. Long drives are hard on him, and to drive him three hours to a place where he can only sit in one spot in his wheelchair while everyone else eats and talks, makes me feel sad for him. So as the years have progressed, we much prefer to arrange for a nurse on at least part of the holiday, and just have it here at home. Very few of my family members or John's actually come to visit. It breaks my heart because I am the social extrovert, but I can't put Daniel through the travelling trauma. So what has happened? We have cousins, and even a grand niece that we have not yet met. Relatives have just "continued along" and not included us, because everyone just assumes we are not able to participate.
That being said, I have no ill feelings towards anyone related to us, I know everyone has their own bundle of things to do and places to go. Thank goodness for face book, because I would know absolutely nothing about my cousins in distant states. I've tried to communicate with most of them, but only three actually reply in any depth. I have accepted that we are, in many ways, like outcasts, due to the different type of life we live. It does not mean we are unhappy, but we are limited in what we can do, and where we can go.
So we carry on in quiet. Surrounded by the comforts of home. Quietly separated from the world where normal "mobile" live in our limited capacity situation. Keeping Daniel happy and healthy takes alot of energy. Ensuring that Sarah and Thomas get as much love and support as we can humanly give them. Friends in our local community provide so much kindness and love. If I needed anything, and posted it on line or in the Bee, someone in this town would make it happen. And sometimes we do small random acts of kindness ourselves, just to give back in some way.
Anticipating the holidays, also brings memories of sadness and loss here at home, so sometimes quiet reflection isnt a bad thing.
Being the Mom of a child who can not speak, or walk, or talk, will forever leave me curious as to what is going on inside his head. That sparkly smile just melts my heart.
John had a very quiet birthday. He is ok with that. On facebook, people go to wonderful Halloween parties, our to fancy restaurants, and have fun time with family. I would have once loved to get all dressed up and go out somewhere fun. But nurses leave at 5 on weekends. That is my reality. As I have come to accept it, I have let go of wanting to do what the "normal free mobile non disabled" world can do, and I have accepted that the quiet love, and necessary care giving is God's calling for me. I am lucky to have my son still with me.
So it was quiet yesterday, and today. I will be glad when it is January and we are moving towards the Spring. I will invite many people to come an visit for birthdays this month, for Thanksgiving, for Christmas, but few if any will be able to make it. We are not exactly close, or on anyones priority list, except for our immediate family.
Sarah turns 19 and Daniel turns 17 this month. So much to think about. We are driving along a bumpy road in an old car, we hit pot holes and big cracks, that is the metaphor for my life. But we don't stop because we know that our destination is going to be the most incredible fantastic place. And the road will eventually stop being bumpy.
Happy Birthday John.
Saturday, November 1, 2014
Hippies and the Blues Brothers
From picking up Tinker's ashes to Daniel's Halloween out fits! Dealing with life through severe headaches is not fun, but I got an appointment. Funny when they put you on hold for 10 minutes.. lol. Hope everyone is doing well. Please subscribe, remember that my channel is to ultimately help us with Daniel's life. Thank you!!
Friday, October 31, 2014
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Monday, October 6, 2014
It's Raining Pillows
I must say, stress is absolutely ridiculously a drag. But I am facing a week for my family... 3 dentist appointments, 1 ortho appointment, 1 physiatry appointment, jazz band, marching band, dog training, and yadda yadda yadda... OH also, spinal exrays and check up at Yale on Thursday for Daniel too. Sheesh. And I am supposed to...work??? It's a life that continually pushes you to the brink. I just really need a hug, and a break. God has given us this beautiful Fall. I'm grateful for those little miracles I see everywhere. Please come over to you tube and subscribe to our channel....we are really trying to grow. Much love and peace.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Marching Bands and Unfriendly Golf carts
As life for everyone else moves along, so too does life for Daniel. Thomas is now happily acclimated to his position in the Newtown High School Marching Band. John and I have been enjoying our time together with Daniel, as we venture out to see the band and guard perform. Through rain and power outages, so far, we have remained dedicated parents!! Of course, technically our son is not even in high school, he is still an 8th grader, but he sure doesn't seem like a typical 8th grader. 
The diversion of the music, and Daniel's total wonder and amusement of the people, lights, music, whatever... makes it fun. There was once a day that I played in my high school marching band. I played the flute and piccolo and music was the only place that I could go to escape stress and build my self esteem. 
When we left the stadium at Trumbull high school, we had a really good laugh because a "golf cart" that they were using to transport disabled persons to and from the parking lot, was parked right up next our van blocking access to our lift. It just seemed so incredibly funny to us, I am not really sure why. Life is full of ironic twists sometimes. I imagine I was probably one of the few people who stopped and talked with the EMT's, and stood and vlogged. I have become completely unaware of whether or not people are watching me talk to myself into my camera. I actually find humor in the looks I get. 
Newtown came in second place at this competition. Norwalk High School has an incredible band, they are apparently our nemesis. I'm just in it for the ride. Every single one of these kids are working so hard. And no child who has the ability to perform should ever be taken for granted. That is how I feel anyhow.Enjoy the video. Warmest regards from my heart to yours.
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