NaBrina calls Lubbock home but lives in Dallas with her 4-year-old twin girls, Ember and Camden. She works at Baylor Scott & White Health as supervisor of continuing medical education programs. Ember has childhood apraxia of speech, epilepsy and global delay.
5:58AM Eyes wide open. I survey the bed. Yep, there are two wee (relatively speaking) bed buddies. As I blink awake, I again ask the question, “Why do I always wake up exactly two minutes before the alarm sings?” Most mornings, I could really use those extra two minutes of sleep.
6AM I pop out of bed, grab a quick shower, throw on makeup and (hopefully) put on clean clothes. During this time, I listen to my Bible app, attempting once again to “read” the Bible through in a year.
6:45AM I put Ember’s morning meds on tasty breakfast foods and disguise with coconut oil and peanut butter. I grab breakfast for Camden, gourmet at its best: banana and a breakfast bar.
7AM I run bags to the car. The amount of “stuff” needed throughout the day requires multiple trips. “Stuff” runs the gamut from a backpack for Ember, lunch for the girls, a change of clothes (times two) just in case, work computer for me, dance clothes for Camden, speech bag for Ember, and my purse, which seems to be the item routinely left behind. (A day without lipstick and Diet Coke money? Yikes!)
7:15AM I dress the mostly-still-asleep girls while talking through the day’s schedule, then hustle out the door. Apparently, regardless of how much extra time is built into the morning routine, we seem to end up having to rush.
7:45AM I do a final check of car for all essentials (including both girls) and head to the Callier Center for Communication Disorders, aka Ember’s school. We spend our morning commute praying for our day — eyes open, of course. I will admit, the girls found “prayer driving” a bit odd at first, but now they remind me (Camden with words and Ember with signs) if we travel too far from home without talking with Jesus. If traffic cooperates, we make a morning drink stop at Sonic for a large raspberry tea, unsweet (well, I do add a copious amount of Equal), my morning indulgence.
8:50AM Camden and I walk Ember into school and hand her off to her clinician. After Camden greets every single parent and sibling in the drop area, the two of us head upstairs to the observation deck to watch Ember. We both bring work; Camden brings the shared iPad and I bring the real kind.
11:30AM Ember’s school day is over. We visit with her clinician about successes and challenges and what to work on at home. On our way out, we stop by the Callier Café to see if their menu includes something better than the packed lunch — most often it does. Ember goes for the corn dogs, Camden the french fries. I go for dessert: iced sugar cookies.
11:45AM Rolling again. Lunch is eaten in the car … ugh! So much for learning good table manners. I share with Ember what went well during her morning at school and discuss what we need to work on at home. For some odd reason, I feel like I’m being ignored during this conversation.
12:15PM We slide into the Neurotherapy Center of Dallas, just in time for Ember’s appointment. Camden and I observe. After Ember’s session, the three of us meet with her neurologist to go over therapy feedback results. I have to admit, at times it’s a bit difficult to hear and focus on what the doctor is saying with the twins vying for attention.
1:15PM Rolling again. Getting to and from and in and out of the car is not always smooth and often proves to be somewhat comical. One would think by now it would be a perfected art, but, alas, we are talking about two 4-year-olds. This ride is spent reminding Ember to listen and do what Breanna (apraxia speech language pathologist) requests and reminding Camden to sit quietly and not do what Breanna requests.
2PM We arrive at Apraxia Dallas for apraxia speech for Ember. Again, Camden and I observe. I learn much about my Ember during this observation of therapy and Camden learns things, too: patience and insight, which I pray grow into a sweet fondness for her sister, plus a deep kindness for other children with special challenges. Both will give Camden a unique richness and depth to her life.
2:45PM Rolling again. During this ride, we listen to music. The girls take turns picking the song. Ember most often chooses “Hickory Dickory Dock” and Camden “More Than Just a Good Man.” Mom is not in the rotation. Besides, I have no clue what song I would choose.
3:30PM We make it to Scofield Christian School (aka Camden’s school) just in time for dance class for Camden. Since parents and siblings are encouraged not to observe, Ember and I make a quick run to the grocery store. It’s mazing how much easier it is to have only one assistant when shopping.
4:30PM Ember and I return to the school to grab Camden and we are rolling again. This time, we’re headed home. Woohoo!
4:45PM I drag the wee ladies and all that stuff into the condo to sort it out, put it away or pack it for tomorrow.
5:30PM Supper.
6PM Playtime. No TV. This is a time the girls spend playing with each other, which I enjoy watching. And Camden teaches her new dance moves to us. Neither Ember nor I have one ounce of rhythm, but who’s watching?
7PM Bath time — or splash fest, rather.
8PM We read books, giggle and play chase (anything to avoid bed).
8:30PM It’s lights out. When girls drift off to sleep, I grab my work and get busy. (Working remotely is a huge blessing.)
2:15AM Lights out for me. I make a quick prayer of gratitude and supplication for wisdom before collapsing into bed. Now that was a good day.
Diaries are penned by moms (and dads) in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. The authors volunteer to share a day of their choosing and are not paid or endorsed by Thrive. Send your diary to editorial@dfwthrivemagazine.com. All submissions are subject to editing and may be cut for space.
