Like a Dream

Hey!

Sometimes you just don't know what to say, right?

In those moments, it might be better not to say anything at all! So that's what I did. Sorry I missed you.

I guess the most meaningful thing that I can tell you about right now is how sweet it is to snuggle with my little boy at night.

We get to snuggle up together pretty much every night during the chilly half of the year. That's a lot of bed time snuggles!

And each night (unless I have to exit sooner), I lay next to him until he falls asleep.

Soft lullaby music plays. My left hand rests across the right side of his body as he holds my face in his hands or rubs my eyebrow. We say "night night" and "love you so much" and "see you in the morning" and talk about the day and giggle for a bit.

Sometimes I sing him a song.

Then his breathing deepens and gets a touch louder. He falls asleep in my arms. 

I cherish that for a minute or two.

Then I make my escape. I slowly lift my left arm up. Then I take his soft, warm hand off my cheek, give it a kiss and lay it on his other hand on the pillow.

And wait...

to make sure he's still asleep.

Then I rise and slowly walk out of his room, closing the door and giving a nod of gratitude.

Whew.

I am amazed at how fast he will fall asleep sometimes. It does make me feel good to know that he feels so comfortable and relaxed around me.

That sweet little angel boy.

I know he won't want me to snuggle with him forever, and our first few years were a LOT of work to get him to sleep.

So this feels like a dream.

And I just wanted to share it with you.

Can't get his picture at night, so here's a fun frame nap shot

Little Victories

I think I've alluded to the fact that school mornings are get-up-and-go with no dilly dallying.

He's got to have his one bite (thyroid medicine), pee on the potty, get dressed and ride horses.

No wait, Mom. It's not ride horses. It's eat breakfast.

Oh yeah.

Haha. That is our song each morning to stay on task.

Then, when the big hand is on the nine, I put his shoes, hat, jacket and mittens out for him to choose which goes on next. Usually, during this process, I have to prod him to pick what goes on next and help him put it on.

But this morning, something changed.

I laid out his clothes when the big hand was on the nine. I told him I was going to put my boots on, and, I kid you not, by the time I slid my feet into both boots, I looked over and he had his hat and jacket on.

"Look, Mummy!" he showed me proudly.

Then he sat right down next to his shoes.

"Okay," he sing-songed. "Now my shoes!"

"Are you going to put them on by yourself?" I asked.

"Yes, Mummy."

And I watched in amazement as he did -- ever so diligently. Even the straps before and after. 

He tried his mittens by himself too (yes, it's still cold here!), but I had to help him with one of them.

I knelt down by him and hugged him so tight.

"I am so proud of you, P Pie! You can get your things on all by yourself! What a big boy, you are!"

"Yes, Mummy." he said. "Okay, let's go out!"

What used to be a terribly long, drawn out struggle turned into a quick two minute process. I know not everyday will be perfect like that, but what an amazing step forward!

My little independent boy. I am so proud of him.  He can do it, he wants to do it and he actually does it.

It's still a bit early to imagine this entirely, but someday, all the troubleshooting and struggling we do in a day, just to get through, will be done (or different!). I will have so much more energy for more productive things!

But right now, they are all teaching moments and guidance and persistence. Oof. It's been a lot, but we are getting there, and those little victories like we had this morning sure make it all worth the effort!

Chucking rocks in his duds

Thank you to everybody who believes in him.

Cast Away

I don't kow what else I can really say about this video to make you see the genuine, peaceful nature of Brady P. any more than the video does itself.

Enjoy!

P.S. if you are reading this from the email, please visit the video at this link.

Timed Out!

Oh, man. 

How many Wednesdays are they putting in a week now? Sheesh!

Yesterday was my birthday, so I didn't write, as you can tell. But I will say that my soul entered its thirties as a lamb and it's going out like a lion!

Hear me roar, baby. I'm on fire!

Okay, here's a story for you.

I found this situation to be quite eye-opening, so I'll see if I can share it with you properly.

I picked up my little man from his grandparents' house on Saturday. We drove back to Copper Harbor on Sunday.

On the way, I had to stop for gas. It was just over halfway of our five hour drive, so I figured we could both go in for a potty break and pick out a snack. It's just the novelty of it.

I pulled up to the pump. I pushed the "Pay Inside Credit" button cuz I knew we would make a purchase inside as well.

I returned the nozzle and opened Brady P's door.

"Hey, dude! Are you ready for a break?" I asked him.

"Yes, Mama. And how about a treat?" he smiled.

"Okay." I acquiesced. "Wow, you are still dry! We will go potty inside too."

"Okay, Mummy."

And I helped him heroically jump out of the van.

"Do you want to put on your mask right here or before we go in?" I asked and fumbled with our masks. I put his on before we went in.

Then we used the restroom. The one-seater woman's room. I went. Then I helped him go. Then I wiped down the seat because he can only do it if he stands on the seat. We washed our hands.

I opened the door to see two ladies waiting in line.

"Oh! I said. "Thanks for your patience!"

They were not amused.

B and I browsed a couple aisles. I grabbed an orange juice. He found the ice cream. As we scanned the shelf for something not-so-dairy, I heard a man shouting.

"Your gas is timing out!"

Pause. I was not paying attention.

"Your gas is timing out!"

I heard these words, but I thought somebody was saying that they couldn't pump all their gas or something.

Then, the man behind the counter got closer.

"Ma'am! Your gas is timing out! It thinks you're a drive-off!"

Oh my gosh! He was talking to me!

"Hurry up, Braeds! Pick something out! How about a Rice Krispie bar?"

"No, Mummy," he said, still eyeing up the ice cream cooler.

The man behind the counter grew increasingly nervous, so I figured I'd do the unthinkable -- use my debit card twice in a row. Ha! Like that was a big deal!

I left B to stare at ice cream, and I walked up to the counter, noticing a muffled alarm going off. Geez.

"How about if I just pay for my gas now and then pay for our other things when we are done?" I asked him.

"Yeah, sure, just, yeah," he stuttered, obviously agitated.

I have never heard of gas timing out before, but apparently it's a big deal!

I paid him and then found my child who picked out a push pop. Good grief. He can't push his own push pop! I knew it would be work for me while I drove (sticky work at that!) but it was also not really a dairy item, so at least we would sleep that night.

"Okay, bud. Put it on the counter, so he can scan it," I told my triumphant child.

Then I used my debit card again for a pittance of an amount, but at least the man had relaxed.

"Thanks for your patience with us," I told him with sincere eyes.

"Yes. Of course," he replied.

B and I walked out, and I half expected the police to follow my van and ask me if I paid for my gas, but that didn't happen. Good thing because I didn't get my receipt! Ha!

While I buckled the sweetest little boy on the face of the earth into his carseat, it kind of dawned on me: I am a very patient person.

Nothing we did, from the time I pumped gas, until the time I got timed out, was hurried. At the same time, nothing was too much out of the ordinary either. 

We were simply a mom and her son making a pit stop on the way home.

My next question was, who the heck sets the time limit for a drive off? We certainly didn't make the cut. How many other families don't make the cut? How many other unhurried souls don't make the cut?

I don't know.

And now I wonder how many of those timing outs he has in a day... or a month!

I don't know!

But we apparently took too long, and that was just fine with me. Next time we take too long, I'll know what I am getting shouted at for!

Back home where we can be in the moment

Waves of Adoration

And so this is Spring Break.

Woo hoo!

Spring Break this year does not mean Florida beaches for me (I did it one year when I was in my 20's!). It means little Brady P. got to see his dad and grandparents. He is still with them, and I am grateful.

Where does that leave me?

In beautiful, chilly Copper Harbor to do whatever I want.

Whatever!

Sure, I stayed up on my jobs and did some adult things, but I really felt free this week.

Last night I danced under the stars.  The stars! What a beautiful place to look under a crystal clear sky. So marvelous and freeing. I cannot leave the house once he goes to bed here, so that was a treat.

I got to listen to music for hours with my lover. Also a treat!

I got out for walks wherever and whenever I wanted. 

It was all so freeing!!!

Yesterday I walked to Hunter's Point and sat on the beach for a bit.  That felt unusual because I don't often go there alone, and I usually don't walk there because it seems so far away.

In my jovial aloneness, I thought about little Brady P. and how he loves to watch the waves roll in. I imagined his little body convulsing as his eyes popped out of his head.

Then I was suddenly taken over with a figurative wave of love and adoration for him.

Every time I think of him when he's away on a break, I get this feeling. My whole body feels saturated with love and devotion for this little person who has entered my life and pretty much taken it over.

We are together so much, that his absence really allows me to feel the impact he has on me. How he's changed my priorities. How he's taught me to love and accept everybody in such a big way.

He is truly a magical little person, and I am one of the luckiest people on the planet to get to spend so much time with him.

It is surreal, and the gratitude I feel is marrow deep.

I feel like you can see the adoration in my face in this picture from a few months ago. His naps on me are now a rarity... but so precious.

That little boy.

I can't wait to see him again so we can, you know, go throw rocks and listen to kid music all day long and he can boss me around a bit more.

Ha!

Thanks for your patience with me while I enjoyed a bit of freedom and doing things just for me.

Back to the grind soon! I hope you are great!

The Lucky 95%

I know I've touched on this before, but I have the kid who says hi to everyone.

He waves ecstatically to each vehicle that drives by when we are on a walk.

He waves and shouts, "Hiiiiii!" if he hears a car alarm go off or a car beeping when it locks.

He hugs his friends when he sees them.  Sometimes two or three times!  He even hugs strangers when the universe grants permission. He is no dummy. He is connected to more than we can see.

Right now he is six-and-a-half years old. I do not tell him that he can't say hi to everyone. I won't tell him that he can't give random people hugs (especially once the pandemic is over!). I will not hinder his innate, loving, accepting, inclusive behavior because that is not my place.

Someday, he will be an adult that does this.

How do I feel about that?

Kids are one thing, but as people become adults, things aren't so cute anymore.

When I was growing up, or, heck, any moment before Brady P. came into my life, I was afraid of people who said hi to everyone.

Afraid!

They just said "hi" and waved ecstatically, and I was afraid!

All I knew then was my perspective. I was obviously insecure with myself. I absolutely did not take the time to understand other people who seemed to be different than me.

Now I get to.

My previous experience gave me compassion for the people who don't say hi back to my super-friendly little boy. Most people do, by the way. Probably 95% of people are absolutely charmed by him.

The rest pretend they didn't hear him.

That used to be me!

But I can't think, "Geez, what a jerk!"

No!

I just get to think, "Yup. I used to be like that. Maybe they will understand someday."

But maybe they won't. Maybe it is not their journey, and I cannot judge. That is not my role.

Or any human's role!

We are all just here doing the best we can with what we have and what we know.

That's exactly what Brady P. is doing.

He lifts the hearts and spirits of 95% of the people he meets just by being himself.

It's true that you can't please everyone, but 95% isn't bad.

That other 5% may or may not figure it out someday. I was so ignorant about it that the type of person I used to turn my back to came out of my own body and now we spend nearly every day together.

Ummm, message received!

And now we get to share that message with others.

Sunday was World Down Syndrome Day. 3/21. It stands for Trisomy 21 which means there are 3 chromosomes on the 21st pair. Pretty clever, hey?

It's also the first day of spring, and this year in the harbor, it was glorious, so we had a little parade to celebrate!

You'll have to visit the blog to see the video. Thank you to my friend Steve for putting it together!

And considering the fact that I am still a nut that waves to random people, I will be proud of him when he does that forever too.

The No Zone

Hi!

How are you doing?

I can't hear you.

I said how are you doing???

Oh. Nope. Still can't hear you. Guess this reading thing is one-sided.

Well, I hope you're good. At minimum.

If you're not, then you just have some things to work through. It might be one thing, it might be one million. But you have to start somewhere!

Best of luck!

Parenthood is quite interesting. It's as though your kid knows when they overcome a hurdle or milestone, so things can get easier in one department, but then they make it harder in another.

Brady P. is 90% potty trained, and I am so proud of him! His sentences are flourishing. And he no longer says "Mup!" to me 1,000 times a say. Just more like 5.

If you don't remember, "Mup" is sort of his game of "gotcha!" And he really would get me. Like, every time.

He is also, for the most part, doing a really good job of staying on task to get ready for school. That's imperative. I don't wake us up with enough time to dilly dally. Just enough time to do all the things and run down to the bus.

So what's the trade off?

The "no" phase. 

Even Miss Liz, his aide as school, noticed.

"Hey, Braed, are you ready for supper/ to getting dressed/ to go out for a walk/ to see a friend/ to use the potty/ to eat your yogurt?"

"No, Mummy. I said no."

And he means it.

I have to do a lot of bribing and deal making with him. For instance, if he wants me to say yes for him to watch his iPad, then he needs to say yes to peeing on the potty first.

"No, Mummy. I say no."

"Okay, then. I say no iPad. When you show me you filled your potty up, I'll give you your iPad."

Then it goes either way. It depends on his priorities at the moment, I guess.

Liz keeps reminding me that we will get through this. We will. It just gets a bit annoying because we seriously can't go anywhere on the weekends. I mean, not even for a walk! He spent the last two Sundays in just his undies!

Now you can condemn my parenting choices for that, but I know that he just wants to have his way sometimes. He works really hard at school, on the potty, getting ready for school, reading his evening book and speaking full sentences, that I just have to give the kid a break.

I mean, that is a lot even for a normal kid. This child has to work much harder to do things that most kids do. For instance, he tries sooooo hard to get his sentences right (and out quickly) that he rolls his eyes up and stutters several times before he spits it all out. He is processing a lot.

So I will give him a few weeks of "no" (hopefully that's all!) because I am so proud of him, and he is really developing quickly in many areas. 

He just needs to feel like he is in control sometimes, and he'll get over being so negative about basic daily life. It's really not that fun, and he knows it.

But he can do what he needs to do. I mean, he's six!

Just to prove how hard he works, here is a video Miss Liz made of him during one recess. Just one! And he's on snowshoes!

If you can't see the video in the email, please find it at Downs by the Bay.

Have a great day!

In the Dugout

Hey there.

My jobs have taken their toll on me this week, so I'm on the bench.

See you next time!

100% or Bust

Let's clear one thing up right now.

If you ever see a family with a child with Down syndrome, don't ever, ever feel sorry for them.  Don't think that they wish things were different.  Just know that those parents and siblings (if they have them) feel so blessed.

They feel like this extraordinary person in their life is truly a gift.  They know that they have already learned so much more than they ever would if things would have been "normal."

I speak from experience, and it echoes for everyone I have ever talked to who has this special person in their life.

Nobody would change it.

Nobody.

If you happen to be somebody who is in this situation and you would change it, please feel free to let me know.  I haven't met anyone like that before.  I am very open-minded and I will listen.

Now let me tell you how cool my little person is.

He likes to do things.  Lots of things.  And he is surprisingly good at anything he likes to do.  I believe that's because he does those things 100%.

It's either 100% or not at all. 

I suppose he will go through the motions for some things if he has to for a reward, but otherwise, it ain't happening.  (Like getting his boots on for the bus some mornings... ugh!)

Take the simple act of eating a piece of chocolate.  Like most normal human beings, he loooooves chocolate.  He doesn't get it often, but when he does, he sits down somewhere, holds his pinky up, takes tiny bites and (from what I can tell) thinks only about how wonderful that chocolate tastes.

He focuses 100% on that chocolate.  That's smart.  And it's being in the moment.

The other day he found "Baby Sadie" a doll who helped him learn how to potty train.  He picked her up and fed her a bottle.  He rocked her, kissed her and hugged her.  He petted her head and talked to her.  Then he laid on the chair with her and covered them both up with a blanket for a rest.

What an angel boy.

When we play a matching game like Memory (we have three different ones!) he is all in.  He pays so much attention that he remembers cards that I completely forgot where they are.  He has his favorite cards out of each stack and, when he finds it, he puts it in his little corner and tries to find the match each time after.  He is so diligent and sharp.

The other day I set up the hockey net, brought up our sticks and Braeden found the pucks.  We took turns shooting.  He was so into it that I made us each little signs with our numbers and he said they should go on our backs.

I obliged.

He was great about taking turns.  He positioned himself so well that he made 90% of his shots, and he even showed off some stick handling skills!  He was really proud of himself, but do you want to know the coolest part?  He was really proud of me too.

I did not make all my shots because I went farther back and tried fancy moves.  But when I made it, he squealed, "Great job, Mummy!"  And he meant it.

He doesn't do it if he doesn't mean it.

And low and behold, he is one of the best impromptu dance party buddies I have ever known.  

When I get a wild hair and ask if he wants to have a dance party, he is down.

Now I'm not going to pretend that we just turn on some music and dance.  Oh no.

We dance party!

We turn it up, plug in the moving colored lights, put on a skirt (sometimes with jingles), don a wig or hat, push on some sunglasses and, if it's dark, break out the glow sticks.

Not only does he love the dress up part, he loves to show off his moves.  I mean, we can't just look like good dancers, we have to be good dancers!

I'd like to throw up my hands and say that I don't understand how he comes up with such awesome moves, but I think it's nature and nurture.  The kid has moves.  He choreographs his body into intricate patterns.  Now, we're talking floor spins, inversions, splits, bends and the whole what-have-you.

The kid is on fire!

He just gives it his all.  And why wouldn't he?  What's the point of going through the motions when he can be really good at all the things he likes?  What is stopping him?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

And that, my friend, that is the beauty of it all.

A person with an extra chromosome knows what they like, and they do it with all their heart.  To them, there is no other way.  And for us 46-chromosome people, it truly is a gift to watch someone live that way.  We would be silly if we didn't try it ourselves.

Three Dog Day

Hi!

I was going to share a sad story with you about my sweet Mr. Buttery boy because yesterday was his birthday.  He would have been 13 years old.  But he died 5 years ago as a martyr.

Duce the Butter Boy in has last weeks

Anyways, I will spare you the tear-jerking tale (this time!) of his asceticism and passing and tell you kind of a funny dog story instead to get my point across.

The point of this post is to talk about doing the right thing.  The right thing can change from moment to moment, and you will know you got it right when you feel it in your heart.

When I was young, I was often a jerk to my little brother and sister.  I bossed them around as any true big sister would.  I tried to get my way all the time because, of course, I was entitled as the oldest.

Pssssht.

One summer day I was feeling extra hungry for lunch, so I asked my dad for two hot dogs with my macaroni and cheese instead of one.  Right.  Like I could eat two.

After I finished one hot dog and my cheesy bowl of noodle goodness, I looked at that second hot dog and thought, "Oof.  I can't eat that!"

But instead of being a good person and leaving it on my plate, offering it to someone else or tossing it back into the boiled hot dog water, I snuck it in my hand and dropped it into the garbage can.

Seemed like a good plan, right?

It might have been if I was smart enough not to throw it where I did... in the living room trash can... right next to my dad's comfy chair... on top of all the tissues and wrappers.

A couple hours later, my dad asked, "Ahhh, who threw their hot dog in this garbage can?"

"Not me!" I said.

"Not me!" Katie said.

"Not me!" Matt said.

This did not fly with Daddy Wonderful.  While some dad's might have threatened with a belt, he took a different tactic.  He was a very loving dad who did his best to raise us with dignity -- not lying about a hot dog in his garbage can.

"I'll ask you again," he continued.  "Who threw their hot dog in the garbage?"

Three more denials.

I think that, more than anything, he was shocked that his kids would lie to him.  Especially about something so trite.

"Okay, then.  You each have one more chance to tell the truth," he said as he broke the room temperature link into three bits.  "If nobody tells me the truth, you will all get to eat a piece."

He almost could have had me at that point.  I know where that hot dog landed.  

But I already started my lie and I was too stubborn to go back.  Besides, it was only my little brother and sister who were going to get punished too.  My six-year-old self didn't think they were that important.

That does not mean they were happy about it.  Or that it was fair to them.

"Not me," we all said again.

My father, following through on his word as he should have, reluctantly handed us each a piece.

"Here you go then," he said, still expecting one of us to cave.

As I held that cold, sweaty piece of meat in my fingers, I almost gagged.  I had one more chance to fess up and back out of such a disgusting feat.

But the same sheisty little part of me that got us me into that mess was going to keep me in it.

Gulp.

Oh, man. That was terrible. No ketchup or anything.  Plus the terrible feeling that I held fast to a lie to my sweet father and put my siblings through unnecessary roughness.

I was in high school when I admitted to my family that it was me.  I remember because I wrote a paper about it in English class. 

My dad said he felt pretty guilty about that, but we all lived, and I deserved it.  It would be nice to say that I learned an important lesson about telling the truth, but that would not be the last lie I had to battle through in my youth.

Today, however, I feel that it's much easier to tell the truth right away.  Then the other people involved are not so confused.  And I don't have to remember what I already said.  Or backtrack.  Or rehearse the next thing I need to say over and over and over in my brain.

Nope!

I just get to clear my conscience and move on with life.  You know what the best part is?  The other person usually isn't even mad once you fess up that you made a mistake because that is hard to do.

But doing the hard things gets you way farther when they are the right things.

If you ever find yourself in a moral jam, just ask yourself, "What is the right thing to do here?  What is going to be best for everybody in the long run?"

If you can be honest, forthcoming and considerate of all parties involved, then you are on the right track, no matter what.  Even if you feel like you don't get the best deal right away about doing what is right, you will be rewarded in the end.  Or the next day.  I don't know, I am just telling you what I notice about life.

Onward and upward!

Birds of a Feather

Brady P. kind of has a new pet.

It's really Craig's pet, but the pet gets to stay here a lot.  We like him.

His name is Kirby.  Kirbeeeeeeey Puckett, is what we call him, and he even says his name like that!  The Minnesota Twins would be proud.

Kirby is a parrotlet.  He is three month old.  A tiny bird with a big personality.

Why am I telling you about this bird?

Because the way that Brady P. Kirby have evolved together is quite beautiful.

At first, Braeden was very skittish around the bird.  It would land on his head, and he would slap around with his hands and shout, "Ahhh!"

Also, Kirby was not going to trust the little chubby-fingered boy who kept poking at him through his cage.

Craig and I knew there was a lot of work to be done if those two were going to get along.

That first picture depicts the first time Braeden successfully said, "Step up!" to Kirby, and Kirby, dutifully, yet cautiously stepped onto his finger... crawled up his arm and rested on his shoulder.

We were so proud!

Success!!!

After that, things got easier.  Although B will go up to his cage and let the bird out without us knowing, he is more gentle.  He reacts more with one finger out to say "step up" in stead of swatting the bird in a panic.

They are actually quite cute together.  

And P. Pie loves to see the bird right when he walks in the door from school or wherever.

See?  Still dressed from the outside.

He can't wait to say, "Oh, Kirby is here!  Hi Kirby!"

I can't say that our guards go completely down when those two are together now, but we are definitely proud of the strides both of them have made with their trust in each other.

Cuz really, it takes two to trust.  And form a friendship.  Hopefully their friendship will last for years.

Neighbors

In case you didn't know, it's snowing.

Everyday.

Like, a lot.

For a week now.

It snowed 45 inches in the last week according to the Keweenaw Snowfall totals.

Granted, that's not totally wild or unheard of by any means, but the temps have dug into the single digits each day for that duration as well.

Surprisingly, I am getting used to it all.  That first day of cold snapping wind waiting for the bus with Brady P. was torturous.  But now I wear my snow pants while I do that.  And as long as I find a place out of the wind to adventure outside, it's actually quite lovely!

As for the snow, well, I really like my snowblower, so I, in a strange way, enjoy blowing the snow.  Doing it every day gets to be a bit much, but it will end someday.

Someday.

Besides, it's really neat to see the town band together.  The person with the plow pushes snow for the person without a plow.  The person with a snowblower blows out the neighbors.  The young man shovels a path for his elderly neighbor.

It's quite beautiful, and most people are appreciative.  I'm so glad to live in a place where (at least when it comes to snow) people don't see property lines as borders, but they see a hierarchy in the time, equipment and energy they have as a way to help others that are less fortunate in that way.

That could be a nice analogy for life.

"Can't we just all pretend it's a week of blizzards in the Harbor?"  Then we can all just get along.  And share what we have.  And be grateful when someone helps us.

*Thump.*

That was me jumping off my soapbox.

I bet if Brady P. knew that you said hello, he would say hello back.  So, hello from Brady P!  He sure is a little wonder of a person.

Thanks for reading!

(There is a video in the blog feed.  Enjoy!)

Take It Easy

Hey there!

I just want to say that wherever you are, whatever you are doing, and however you feel in this moment, go easy on yourself.

Life is still pretty stifling right now.  The world is not so carefree.

So, please, just be kind to other people.  And be kind to yourself.

Take a moment to be grateful that you have made it this far.  You are still alive.  You (hopefully) have a safe place to live, food to eat and air to breath.  You are lucky.

Relish in that.

And although you are most likely on a good path in general, please just go easy on yourself.  Maybe even do a little nice extra thing for you and someone you love.

You both deserve it.

Here is a picture of Brady P. doing the almost splits.

Because he is awesome.

And because he doesn't mind that it's the almost splits and not the total splits.  He is still impressive!