Dear Mr.

I’m sorry to have to tell you, but I’ve found someone new. Nine years ago, you came into my life and swept me off my feet. Your hard exterior, your larger build, your fast performance all held the promise of creative productivity. We have shared hundreds of thousands of memories together. From my wedding to the birth of my children. From family gatherings, road trips, and even my trip to China, you were there for me. You helped me put my heart and soul down into words so that I was able to share it with the world. I’m even embarrassed to admit out loud that we were pretty addicted to binge watching Netflix together.
Sadly, you have shown more often than not in the more recent years that you are no longer able to keep up with my active lifestyle. I need someone who doesn’t freeze up on me when I request multiple tasks from you. I need someone who doesn’t resort to the silent treatment. I need someone who can curl up in the sheets with me. I need someone who isn’t afraid of the wide open road and all it’s possible adventures from planes to trains, mountains to shores, I need someone who can give me that and so much more.
So, I’m sorry Mr. You have been replaced with a newer, younger faster, sleeker, and sexier model. Don’t worry however. I have found you a good home to spend your golden years in. You will be more useful there, and you will most definitely be more appreciated.

Love Always,
Mama Rupp

Meet the Rupps, your classic old American family living in the suburbs.

Daddy Rupp

The other blogger in the family, author of The Seed Project, is a firefighter who loves reading, music, photography, and the great outdoors.

Mama Rupp

Stay at home mommy blogger who loves coffee, wine, the ocean, planning family getaways, jogging, and the occasional mom’s night out.

Marley Rupp

Almost 6, is missing three of her front teeth, loves dressing up in mom’s clothes and high heels, making dresses for her dolls out of anything she can get her hands on, and just started Kindergarten.

Jackson Rupp

Almost 4, loves legos, robots, broccoli, blueberries, cuddling on mom’s lap, and teasing his big sister.

Just your typical old American family, accept mom and daughter are both blind.  Some may argue that they aren’t blind because they get around so well and have some usable vision.  Basically, blind is blind.  There’s no other way around it.  Mom doesn’t see well enough to drive a car.  She reads Braille, uses accessible technology, and in the words of a stranger on the street, “Commands the sidewalk with her cane.”  Why even bother with words like, “legally blind, “Visually impaired,” or, “Low vision,” that promote low self worth through low expectations?  We’d much rather have high standards by dropping the sugar coated politically correct phrases, and just say, “Blind.”  Mom has generously passed down her Optic Nerve Atrophy to her daughter.  How lucky is this little girl to have a mom who has already acquired the tools, and laid the foundation to set her up for nothing but success so that she can live the life she wants.  .

Rupps all dress up before the banquet at the 2015 National Convention of the National Federation of the Blind. Notice that Daddy’s eye’s are covered with sleep shades and also holding a cane.

Last night the family enjoyed a delicious dinner out on their back patio.  The kids ate steak, broccoli, watermelon, and home made cookies.  The grown ups had their steak over a kale salad tossed with mushrooms, red bell pepper, and Feta cheese.

Tonight, they’ll be making almond flour pizza.

Tomorrow, the Rupp house will be filled with friends for a Labor Day barbecue.

Friday, was a whole different story.

If you haven’t already read what Daddy Rupp wrote Friday afternoon on his Facebook wall about the happenings of a meeting with their daughter’s educational team, please do so below.  These beautifully articulated words come from a very upset father who hates the fact that in every step of his daughters short time in the school system, they are finding themselves met with battle after battle.

For now however, we will enjoy our long weekend just like all other Americans.

Tuesday, we assemble the troops and prepare for battle.

written by Daddy Rupp on Friday September 4, 2015.

“Sitting in this chair, my heart is pounding. Seriously pounding, to the point that I have to consciously focus on breathing to stay calm to be able to conduct myself and stay focused at this critical moment. But the pounding is almost all I hear and feel..,

At the table with me is Terri Rupp (my wife) and Marley’s (my daughter) educational “team”. And sitting across the table from me is the school district’s cane travel instructor, discounting me and my wife, every time we speak.

The discussion surrounds the selection of which cane Marley is to use, we want the longer, lighter white cane, while she feels that a much shorter, 3x heavier with a que ball end cane is the “best choice”. Every time we speak about what the white cane means, or mention the philosophy of advocacy and higher expectations/ standards we live by and expect for ourselves, including Marley, a look of sheer disgust smears across this teachers face, followed by a heavy roll of the eyes and pulling of her brows as high as she can, finishing off with a sarcastic smile to the others (Marley’s principle, kindergarten teacher, low vision teacher and special services coordinator) CLEARLY saying without using words, “who the fuck do you think you are to make decisions for your daughter, & I can’t believe we’re wasting our time listening to his shit folks”.

The words she IS using is, “what training and credentials do you have in orientation & mobility (O&M)” (to have a say in the course of your daughters independence development). She says, “I have a masters in O&M, and YEARS of experience”, she says, “Marley’s white cane with metal tip is a danger to others”.

I look at these divine and almighty credentials of hers as a hindrance, she has had 6 years of formal training on how a sighted person tells a blind person what’s best for them, and has been teaching sub prime methods that do not encourage confidence nor allows them to navigate through life at equal pace with their peers.

What does the short cane mean to me?
~First of all it is shorter, so instead of picking up on obstacles and landscape variations several feet in front of the user, they discover steps and walls when they are LITERALLY INCHES in front of their toes. It sets foundation for slower, less confident walking, and that is a fact.
~The standard cane is heavier (2-3 times heavier) than her long white cane, with a weighted stub at the end, that is meant to be push/drug, grinding against forward motion with every step, and catches on every crack, rock and twig the user encounters. This does not allow the user, or my daughter, to move freely or on par with their peers, and again, reinforces the foundation of lower expectations and standards. That is a fact.
~Most importantly, the difference SYMBOLICALLY from the short, red ended heavy cane vs the long white cane. The standard cane originates in the UK circa 1921, by James Biggs, who found himself newly blind and painted his walking stick to become more visible. (White cane, Wikipedia.org). The long cane was developed in 1958 by the Iowa chapter of the National Federation of the Blind, designed to “enable us to walk faster without diminishing either safety or grace”(The Nature of Independence by Dr. Kenneth Jernigan,NFB.org) One was created from a “discomfort from the amount of traffic around his home”, and designed for the purpose of “being more visible”. Of its entire development from England in the 20’s, to France in the 30’s and the lions club in America in the 50’s, the main theme from its inception, to its development and adoption into law, is the concept of “visibility”, alerting others of a blind person. In contrast, the long white cane was created from a dissatisfaction for “the short, heavy… type, and we youngsters associated carrying a cane with begging, shuffling along, and being helpless”, and designed for the purpose of “advancing on the road to freedom and independence”(Jernigan). And THOSE are facts…
~In short, one symbolizes “look out, I am a handicapped person, and I can’t get around that good”, while the other symbolizes “look out, I’m a handicapable person, and I’m coming through!”

This lady’s perspective and decisions regarding the training and foundation for Marley, and countless other children, are based on conventional education, and only values input that supports her lower expectation standards. Our perspective and decisions are compassed by a lifetime experience, Terri being blind since childhood, and me having been partnered with her for the past 11 years. Terri as a child went through a system that enforced the negative promotion model of blindness. She learned on a short cane, and Braille was not encouraged. When we got together, she was in college, staying up all night trying to keep up with the required reading with her face pressed down into the book on the table reading at 15-20 words a minute, and walking into light poles & fire hydrants! It wasn’t until she adopted a positive promotion model that she dared to have the audacity to live the life she wanted. She got the PROPER training, and now runs 5k’s, navigates airports solo, is an amazing mom and reads faster than George W. speaks!

Do you think a formal education experience ever landed this teacher in a room of several thousand successful blind people cheering at the top of their lungs in celebration of their independence, or meeting blind doctors, Harvard graduates, Everest climbers and elite triathletes? Probably not, which is why her expectations and view of the blind is unwittingly discriminating, and is exemplified by her insistence on sub prime, and archaic teaching methods.

Cane travel skills are like handwriting skills, am I to expect my 5 year old to be writing in cursive? Of course not, it is a development of fine motor skills that she is working through. I would be unreasonable to expect her to execute impeccable discipline and precision in her cane usage either. But forcing her to use a tool that will not serve her in the future, will slow her down in the present, and set a life trajectory of lowered expectations on a deficiency model, is like forcing her to learn only large bubble letters before she is allowed to learn Braille. No!!! We have high standards for our life, and we expect the same for Marley! I was expecting to be met with a different philosophy and lower expectations for a standard of independence, but
I wasn’t expecting to be met with condescension and disgust.

This is not the first time some stranger in their own ignorance has attacked Marley’s progression. Past actions from the school include refusing Braille, physically taking her cane away and holding her hand instead of letting her run with her classmates.

At what point does life experience have any validity in the face of a “formal education”? My words are worthless because I don’t have a degree in o&m?… What am I supposed to do, get a masters in every aspect of my life to be able to advocate for my daughter? If there is any term I can think of that depicts what my daughter is up against, it is institutionalized discrimination…

‪#‎speakingovermewontstopme‬“

I should have been on the track and field team in high school.  After all, I really enjoy running, I’m getting pretty good at jumping over hurdles, and I most often do it with a smile on my face.

Last week, our family entered into a new and exciting chapter as our little girl started Kindergarten.  Excitement about a new adventure, and anxiety of a few unknowns swirled through our house.  We stocked up on the recommended list of school supplies, added a few extra Braille friendly extras to our study corner, and even bought Marley a new Frozen lunch bag.

First day of school photo

Hurdle #1.  It was the Friday before the first week of school and we’d still heard nothing from CCSD Transportation.  Marley had taken the bus to school last year, so I had assumed everything would be fine and dandy.  Well, you know what they say about assuming.  With my husband working, the school being just under a two mile walk, and the temperature still in the triple digits, I was forced to scramble and find someone to drive Marley to school.  Almost a week had gone by and still no luck reaching anyone.  20 phone call attempts later, I was able to reach a real live person to on the other end.  We were told that since we lived less than two miles from the school we weren’t eligible for the bus.  I explained that transportation is included in her IEP, and a 0.2 mile difference shouldn’t be a reason for denial of services.  Now, we needed to have the school nurse send in paperwork on Marley’s behalf in order to get bus services started.  After this was done, I still heard nothing from transportation.  Today, I was informed, “Oh yes, it shows right here ma’am that your daughter is scheduled to start taking the bus on September 10th.  The bus driver will be calling you on the day before to let you know that transportation services have been approved.”  Really?  I was expected to be in limbo until the day before!  Thanks to the fact that I’m not that patient, thanks to my phone call today, we don’t have to wait blindly because of a departments dysfunction.

Hurdle #2.  I prefer the proactive approach to life instead of the reactive approach.  I called Vision Services the first week of school just to make sure everything was on track.  This is how I found out that Marley’s TVI (teacher of the visually impaired) had retired over the summer and she’d been assigned a new TVI.  I also found out that their database had not updated the fact that Marley is now at a different school this year.  Instead of reacting and getting upset like the old me might have, I decided to send an email and to open up the lines of communication between everyone on the educational team, and welcome the new TVI on board.  This email explained our philosophy and views on blindness, and how we’d like others to treat our daughter.  The email also stated our feelings on Braille and the use of a cane and asked for support in making the school a Braille rich environment.  I felt pretty darn good about that email.  I even scored a meeting with all of Marley’s teachers from it.

As a runner, I have learned that the most important thing to do, besides stretching, is to keep my breathing and pace steady.  This came in very handy when I came to hurdle #3 when Marley told me that a teacher made her use a cane with a rolling tip.  This may not seem like a big deal to most people.  It might even seem like a good thing.  To me, it was a direct slap in the face that my specific requests were dismissed.  The rolling tip cane is much shorter and heavier than the metal tip carbon fiber cane.  Think of it this way.  Would you want to use a cable cord that is broken in multiple pieces?  If you had the choice, wouldn’t you rather pick one that is more efficient in transmitting information in a solid fluid pathway?  We discussed this in length at Marley’s IEP last May with the O&M (orientation and mobility( professional who’d been assigned to work with Marley.  This was why I felt like my feet had been kicked out from under me knocking me on rear when Marley told me she’d been given a rolling tip cane.  Again, I emailed expressing my concerns on the matter. At the recommendation of fellow parent of a blind child, I will be addressing every issue that concerns me in writing from now on.

So, I’ll just keep running… and jumping… and running… and smiling…

Oh and I’ve actually gone and joined the neighborhood gym.  I’m that girl running on the treadmill wearing the huge smile on her face jamming out to Pandora’s excellent music selection.

Earlier this summer, like many times before, we hit the road with the car loaded up with camping gear, dog, and plenty of food and water for a long weekend, escaping from the scorching never-ending triple digit  Las Vegas heat.

Where did we go?

We went to Great Basin National Park, or in Marley’s words, her favorite mountain on Earth.

We have this thing with taking photos with National Park signs.

We’ve been visiting Great Basin almost every year since she was 7 months old.

yes, that’s deer in the meadow behind Daddy holding baby Marley, the meadow just a few feet from our tent.

Situated in the Northeast corner of Nevada, just off Highway 50 is home to some of the oldest trees on Earth, the Bristlecone Pine.

This tree is older than the pyramids.

At the base of the mountain you’ll find the famous Lehman Caves.

We’ve been exploring the caves

and hiking the trails at Great Basin since before the kids could walk or talk.

Along with the Bristlecone Pine Forest, trails vary from wheelchair accessible boardwalks criss-crossing over the river and through the forest, a three mile loop past two alpine lakes,

or for those who wish to hike to the top of the second highest point in Nevada, feel free to head on up to Wheeler Peak

daddy at the top of Wheeler Peek

It somewhat scares me to write this post about Great Basin.

Why, you ask?  Because now everyone will know why it’s so GREAT, and more and more campers will start visiting this park.

What makes this place my favorite national park to visit, is not just the fact that we are camping in absolute serene beauty at 10,000 feet, not the fact that we are at one of North America’s best star gazing spots, not even the fact that there are no mosquitos, the dear and wild turkeys greet us as we sip our morning coffee, and the sounds of the mountain brook whisper by as the winds breeze through the majestic Aspen Pines.  .

What makes this park different from all other national parks we’ve spent time at, is we aren’t crammed in like sardines on top of our neighbors, unlike at Crater Lake where we could literally hear the camper snoring just a few feet over.

Zion,

the California Redwood Forest,

Mt. Lesson,

Mt. Hood,

and Mt. St. Helens

all hold a special place in my heart.

Still, they don’t hold a candle to Marley’s favorite mountain on Earth.

On July 25, 1990 President George H W Bush signed into law the Americans with Disabilities Act. “With today’s signing of the landmark Americans with Disabilities Act, every man, woman, and child with a disability can now pass through once closed doors into a bright new era of equality, freedom, and independence.”

That summer, I was 7 years old, and about to enter into second grade.

I remember as a child feeling inadequate, incomplete, and invisible.  I remember feeling like a burden if I were to tell my teachers that the print out they’d already enlarged for me were still too small for me to read, so I just pretended to read them, writing down random answers to made up questions just to fill in the blanks.  I remember hiding behind my thick glasses, burrying my face in my books so that the other kids couldn’t see my tears thanks to the prescription that should have been magnifying everything else instead.

At the 25th Anniversary  Celebration President Obama stated, “Thanks to the ADA, the places that comprise our shared American life, schools, workplaces, movie theaters, courthouses, buses, baseball stadiums, national parks, they truly belong to everyone. Millions of Americans with disabilities have had the chance to develop their talents, and make their unique contributions to the world. And thanks to them, America is stronger and more vibrant, it is a better country because of the ADA.

 Watch his entire speech here.

Yes, it is true that thanks to the ADA and it’s guidelines these last 25 years Americans with Disabilities have been able to enjoy those things President Obama mentions above.  However, we still have a long way to go before the blind, the deaf, the wheelchair bound, and all other disabled citizens have equal access to the simplest of things in life.

Did you know that blind children are still being denied access to Braille?

Did you know that as life for Americans grow more dependent on technology, accessibility to these things are still an afterthought instead of part of the initial design?

Did you know that in this present day, blind parents are still having their children taken from them by civil services merely on the fact that they are blind?

Ladies and gentlemen, we still have a long way to go.

Today, my daughter is 5 years old, and about to enter into Kindergarten.

On Monday morning as Marley starts her first day of Kindergarten, she has an entire army behind her fighting for her success in the world.  She has a mommy who will ensure that she is taught Braille at an early age.  She has the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children and the National Federation of the Blind working hard to pass legislation so that 25 years later inequality and inaccessibility will be merely a thing in the history books.

If you happen to be in the Las Vegas area, I invite you to join us as we join the rest of the country in celebrating 25 years of the ADA.

hosted by the NFB of Nevada, Southern Nevada Chapter

Saturday, August 29th

from 2:30PM to 4:30PM

at the Blind Center of Nevada

1001 North Bruce St.

Las Vegas, NV 89101

I think I’m going on four months now since I’ve gone for a real jog.  I tried jogging last week and barely made it past a half mile.  I suppose the triple digit heat doesn’t make it any easier.  My new running shoes I purchased last spring are still considerably new.  I’m at the higher end of my ten pound range at a whopping 115lbs. with the additional lbs settling in my midsection.  I don’t want to hit the pool because I’ve got an embarrassing muffin top hanging over my new cute bikini bottom.  I feel frumpy.  I feel sloppy.  Somebody send me some motivation!

It doesn’t help that last weekend was a completely junk out weekend.  Yes what well respected road trip would go without a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos, Beef Jerky, BBQ Chips, Beer, Whisky, , Coke, and a box of wine.  Granted we were camping at 10,000 feet and did a little bit of hiking, the overall theme of the weekend of was do nothing but relax.

Also the 10 days we were on vacation earlier this month in Orlando gave us the excuse, “To eat like we’re on vacation.”

I need to get active again.  I’ve let this stagnate state go on for too long.  Enough is enough!  Time to take back my tummy and get moving again.  When you’re petite and bony, that extra flab around the waistline isn’t quite so easy to hide.

So… where do I start?

The planks and squates only lasted two weeks.

My mind won’t shut up long enough for me to enjoy yoga.

Perhaps I’ll jhoin the neighborhood gym.

That opens up the conversation of workout equipments being accessible.  There aren’t exactly talking treadmills and ellipticals at your neighborhood gym, and don’t get me started on the touch screen topic.  I never feel like I’m using the machines quite right, holding the right form, or whatever.  I also feel like everyone is watching me.  As soon as I walk through the doors, I’m worried that any mistake I make will be because of my blindness and not because I’m generally uncoordinated and have no rhythm what-so-ever.  I mean seriously, if you were to see me in a palates or kick boxing class, those weird jerky off beat movements I’m making aren’t due to my blindness but to the fact that I really have NO rhythm.  But to the stranger observing me from across the way, I’m the blind girl.

OK…breathing in… breathing out…and sucking it up now.  I’m done whining.  Time to put on my big girl panties and feel good about myself.  As soon as it cools down, I’ll pack us a picnic dinner in the park, and take the kids out on their bikes as I jog down the peaceful suburban greenbelt.

My sincere apologies to my readers.  I know I’ve been MIA for more than a few weeks.  I suppose I’m suffering from bloggers block.  Don’t take it personally.  I’ve pretty much from MIA from a lot of things these days.  I even went as far one week as deleting all the social media apps off of my phone.  Yes, you read that right.  I deleted Facebook, Twitter, WordPress, Whatsapp, YouTube, and Yelp cutting myself off from the mobile social media world.  Of course, that only lasted two weeks for Facebook, but the other apps are still gone.  At night, my phone no longer resides next to me on the nightstand, but all the way on the other side of the house on the kitchen counter.

No , I’m not loosing it.  No, I’m not depressed. What am I then?

I’m free!

I’m free from dings, and pings, and blings!

I’m free from chirps, and tweets, and bleeps!

I’m free from that feeling that I need to be on call for someone else outside of my immediate circle of concern 24 hours a day.

Have you read, “The Seven Habbits of Highly Effective People,” by Dr. Stephen Covey?  If your answer is no, than my next question is, “Why not?”

I have figuratively drawn my circle of concern with a hot pink glitter pen, and my circle of influence inside that pink circle with a purple glitter pen.

However, the byprodut of those pink and purple circles has caused my creative writing juices to dry up.  I’ve tried multiple times to start a crafty well written blog only to get nowhere further than the second sentence.

So, here I am filling you in and catching you up to my whereabouts.  The first weekend of May, I completed the most intense 100 day stretch of my life by graduating from an emotional intelligence leadership program.  On Mother’s Day, I pigged out on an entire tub of mint chip ice cream.  Towards the end of the month, we were pleasantly surprised with the ease of Marley’s IEP for Kindergarden.  Marley with be receiving Braille instruction in the classroom and O&M (orientation and mobility, otherwise known as cane travel) with her preferred chosen cane, her long white NFB cane.  June gave me a weekend in San Francisco with two of my oldest and dearest friends of 20 years.  We had a full itinerary outline, but scrapped it for a relaxing hike, a burger, and then food poisoning.  It was actually the best weekend I’d had for a while.  I honestly can’t remember laughing that hard in a very long time, the kind of laughing where you can’t breathe and you can’t stop.  Now here we are.  I don’t know who’s more excited about this weekend, my parents or my kids.  This will be our first time seeing them since November.  Lastly, I’m excited to announce that the Rupps are heading to Orlando!  We won’t be hitting the Magic Kingdom, instead we’re participating in the historic 75th National Convention of the National Federation of the Blind.  This is my first national convention since 2009, when I was 21 weeks pregnant with Marley.  My husband attended his first and only convention in 2007 when I received a National Scholarship.  This year, we are attending for the first time, as parents of a blind child.  This year, Marley and Jackson get to be in the presence and power, in a hotel with over 3,000 positive blind role models, participating in children’s activities with other blind children and their sighted siblings, and Marley will be modeling in the NFB Style show hosted by the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children.

Follow Blind Mom in the Burbs on Facebook for more frequent updates and ramblings, especially for all the fun photos.

Have a wonderful summer!

The first book we purchased after finding out I was to become a mom was, “I Love You Forever,” by Robert Munch.  We read this almost every night to my growing belly.  We read it almost every night my first few years of motherhood.  You know you’ve read a book a lot when the pages are torn and the hard cover is wobbly.

My most precious creations

One of the first pieces of advice I received after Marley was born was, “Don’t blink.  She’ll be 1 before you know it.”  Oh how I wish time would stand still.  Marley is now five and a half and Jackson is three and a half.  Marley will be starting Kindergarden next fall, she’s about ready to ride her bike without training wheels, and she blows me away every single day with her hugely kind heart.

Marley watering our garden so she can feed the world

The other morning we sat and talked about gratitude over breakfast.  As usual the kids were refusing to eat what was in front of them and started their, “I wants…”   I shared with them how I had just recently handed out sack lunches to people who had no food and no home, people who were hungry and slept on the streets.  All Marley wanted to do after learning that there were people living like that, kids living like that, was to bring the food, beds, and clothes and shoes.  She wanted to grow up and be someone who could help the world so that no one would be hungry ever again.

Slow dancing with my baby boy

Jackson, oh… thinking how fast Jackson is growing up brings tears to my eyes.  He is a miniature version of his daddy.  His cuddles, his kisses, his sweetness melts my heart.  Just yesterday, he made a cane out of Legos and tapped it around the house.  Everyday he asks me things like, “mom, how do you spell…”  “Mom what’s ___ mean?”  Oh and you can’t tell him he’s cute or handsome, or anything at all.  The only thing he is, is, “Jackson.”  He sits at the front door waiting for his big sister to come home from school, and he sneaks into bed with me after daddy leaves to work.  He’s my baby and will always be my baby.

Jackson waiting at the front door for his big sister to come home from school

Never did I realize the depth of love I could hold for two little beings.  My hopes, dreams, joys, and fears all wrapped up into two precious little bodies.    As I sit here typing away, I am grateful for my two perfect creations, and I am grateful for the best career I could have ever chosen, Marley and Jackson’s Mom.

Greatest adventure of all!

For all you moms out there, and for all you future moms, “Don’t blink.”  You’ll never get those seconds back.

Good morning Monday! I declare it will be a productive and powerful week. In order to make this happen, I will be focused, creative, vulnerable, passionate, honest, and present because 100% is possible 100% of the time.