31

In case you haven't noticed, I've blogged every day for a month now.  Yay, me!  I am 8.3% finished with my goal to blog every day for a year.  I hope you've found some of it interesting.  At least I haven't resorted to posting my grocery list yet.

I've read that it takes something like three weeks to form a new habit.  If that is true, then the rest of the year should be pretty easy.  We'll see how it goes.  Hey, as long as the kids continue in their zany antics, I should have plenty of thoughts to share.

I've gone farther with my writing goal than I have my other goals.  I am still trying to get to the gym a few times a week, but the weather makes it difficult (no school means no gym, as they do not have childcare there).  I started a water challenge a couple of weeks ago (I have to drink a certain amount of water, based on my weight), and I started off really strong but I've gotten wrapped up in other things this week and kind of fell off the wagon (or water cooler?).  With any luck, as we begin a new month tomorrow I can refocus and get back on track with these objectives.

And look at that.  Even if the kids don't do anything remotely noteworthy, I can regale you with more stories of my gym and water drinking adventures.  Definitely stay tuned for those entries, right?  ;)

Happy weekend.

Hectic

I was beyond excited to return to an office setting this week for a fantastic new opportunity.  I will be working part time; three days in the office, while the big kids are at school.  I couldn't ask for a more perfect situation: I get out of the house, but during the hours while the kids are occupied.  Bingo!

Today, I played catch up.  I know that I need to allow myself some time to get adjusted to our new schedule, but wow, was I ever busy today.  I visited AVON clients this morning, ran a few errands, took Andrew for a haircut and well-child check-up, then took the kids to dance class.  Then it was time for baths, dinner, and bedtime battles.

I.  Am.  Exhausted.

I have always respected parents who work full time, because even when I was a full time "stay at home mom" (in quotations because I was rarely at home!), I couldn't complete a to-do list.  How do full time working moms and dads pull it off?  You all get even bigger Rock Star status now that I have a taste of how much juggling you're doing!

I know that someday all too soon my kids will be old enough to not need me around the house so much, and I'll go back to full time work hours.  I suppose I should take this time to refine my multitasking skills so my household can all better adjust to this new chapter in our lives.

For now, I'm off to read bedtime stories.  Goodnight, friends.

Magazines

Everybody loves getting mail.  Fun mail, I should say.  I suppose there are some out there who do enjoy finding bills and solicitations in their mail boxes, but I am willing to guess that most of us would prefer to find cards, catalogs/sales flyers (I enjoy these, maybe not everyone does), and magazines.

Magazines are the best, because you know when you can count on them to arrive.  You can hopefully look forward to receiving holiday cards and birthday cards in the mail, but that's only a few times a year (that is, if other people send out cards for several holidays, like I do).  Magazines come as frequently as once a month (maybe even more often, if you're a subscriber of one of the weekly entertainment periodicals), and because we are usually super busy, I often lose track of when my favorites should arrive.  It's always a lovely surprise to open the mailbox to find one.

We get a lot of magazines right now.  I've found that some subscriptions are inexpensively available, thanks to loyalty rewards points (Mark drinks a particular kind of soda, and I cash in points from their rewards programs for free magazine subscriptions) and even "free trials" (which are highlighted by deal-finders via their blogs).  If you can keep up with all of that, you can score a nice freebie.  I will admit, though, that sometimes I do get carried away and we end up with publications featuring electronics, skiing, and other topics that simply don't interest us.  But it's the allure of getting something fun in the mail that usually sucks me in.  Plus, I feel like the kids could benefit from looking through these magazines, cutting out pictures, playing school with them...basically, whatever I can use to rationalize my slight obsession.

The kids do receive a couple of rags. I recently signed them up for a kids' nature publication (got sucked into a school fundraiser) and they enjoy finding the Lego Club magazines in our mailbox every now and then (and those are free!).  My daughter loves pouring over the American Girl catalogs every few months; to her, this is just as great as getting the magazines, and then I can save the money I'd spend on that subscription to put toward her next doll.  I'm sure as they kids get older, they will be more interested in other periodicals (I remember how excited my sister and I would be to pick up the new Tiger Beat issue, in hopes of finding pull out posters of Luke Perry or Jason Priestley, ha!).  For now, though, even a toy catalog fulfills that hope of getting mail, so I'm going to enjoy that while it lasts.

My favorite magazines right now are Taste of Home and Better Homes & Gardens, which is kind of hilarious seeing as I do not enjoy cooking and my house is usually a wreck.  But hey, flipping through magazines is all we had before Pinterest, right?  I consider leafing through a new issue a form of stress release.  The glossy pages, the appealing colors, the impossible results...ok, maybe that part is not really a stress release, but whatever.  I still love it.

As a matter of fact, I have the new issue of BH&G burning a hole through today's mail pile, so I think I shall retire to the sofa to linger over the lovely pages of what my house could maybe look like some day.  You know, the day after I'm caught up from all my reading.

Super

In a culture that is seemingly obsessed with super heroes, it's fun to think of which magnificent powers I would like to possess should I be given the choice.  Top of my list?  Invisibility, I think.  Or maybe the power of flight, or teleportation.  Then, finding items that are lost (if you know the troubles we have at my house with losing things, you'll understand why this one ranks so high on my list).  And (can't leave this one out!), the power to cook a fantastic meal rather than a so-so one.

And then, reality sets in, and the grown up in me points out that none of that could ever happen (especially the cooking one!).  But surprisingly, we do all possess super powers.  You just have to know how to recognize them.  The following are just a few that I've been considering.

Knowing when to shake your head and walk away from ridiculous Facebook debates.  Or staying out of them all together.  There is huge power in that.  Don't get me wrong; I enjoy a good debate, even when I don't agree with the others participating.  Most of the time, those topics begin innocently enough, and you can often learn something.  But, when ignorance and disrespect take over the conversation, it's time to step back and move on to something else. That is difficult to do, because everybody wants to defend their position and get the last word, but when the tone turns nasty, there's no winning anything.

Advocating for your children at school, whether they have "special needs" or not. (And, for what it's worth, I do not like the term "special needs".  All children have special needs, because they are individuals. But that's another blog for another time, maybe...)  This is definitely a super power.  It is often difficult to speak up, especially when it comes to a policy or procedure that not everybody considers an issue.  It is our job, however, to be the voice for our children.  Sometimes, you may even find that opening up a dialogue about an issue helps you better understand the reason for it.  If that is the case, then at least you've let the school (or whatever policy-making body you are questioning) know that you are paying attention.

Imparting your beliefs, without being hateful or defensive.  This is a tough one.  Being passionate about an issue often comes off as being negative toward the opposition of said issue.  You have to find a way to stand up for what you believe, while maintaining a meaningful stance, without coming off as angry.  But, sometimes you are angry about it, and rightfully so, but it can seep in to any reasonable thought processes. Finding the right balance is certainly empowering.

Recreating an idea from Pinterest and having it look close to the picture in the pin.  Am I right? How awesome would it be to have success in every single idea you see?  If I ever get close to even one pinned idea, I'll wear a cape around and become Super Pinterest Mom.

Going to Target and spending less than $50.  Seriously.  I don't even know that Superman could pull this one off.

So, obviously, some powers are greater than others, and I'm sure the list could be way longer.  I think I could go on and on, but tell me: what would you consider your super power?

And, in case you're wondering, I think you're all just super.  ;)

Spring

The countdown is on.

This winter has been rough.  As I sit here, already dreading yet another snow day tomorrow (and this one will be even more trying, since it will be just too cold to even consider sending the kids outside), my thoughts have wandered over to spring.  Not early spring (late March and early April), where the warmer temps are overshadowed by cold gusts of wind, but late April and May (which, of course, in Ohio can still be cruddy...but for the sake of this blog, let's pretend that by then, the lovely spring days have arrived).  Blue skies, chirping birds, trips to the outdoor playgrounds (where I don't worry so much about stomach viruses as I do at the mere thought of indoor play areas this time of year!), and the blooming of new plants certainly sound lovely, don't they?  I mean, does anything sound more appealing right now than loading up a cart at Lowe's with colorful spring blooms and big bags of mulch?  (Ok, obviously something might sound more appealing than that, but play along, please.)

Won't it be nice to feel the warm sunshine on our arms as we work in the yard, or on the patio, bringing our outdoor spaces back to life after such a long winter?  I would even be content to do some spring cleaning, because that usually means opening up the windows to air out the house.  And let's not forget the hours we'll spend on Pinterest, planning out all the wonderful recipes we'll prepare once we can wander around outdoor farmers' markets, or the lush gardens we'll plot out from images we'll repin on our comically named boards? (My garden board is titled "Crazy Plant Lady". I don't really know why...)

Picnics under blue skies, leisurely strolls through the zoo, enjoying ice cream before the days get so hot that it melts before hitting your mouth...these are all thoughts that will help get me through these long weeks of winter.

Some people insist on "living in the now" or "not wishing today away"; they can save that for the days that break 25 degrees.  There are certainly many things to appreciate about winter, but right now I'm having a difficult time coming up with any, so I'll just continue to daydream about whatever complicated landscaping plans I can find on Pinterest.

Grammys

Ok, we all know that I enjoy award shows.  'Tis the season for them.  Tonight, we get the Grammys.

I missed the first hour or so of the show, as we had our monthly Dinner Company this evening (and it was totally worth missing the opening of the Grammys!).  So, after we arrived home and I finally sat down to update Addie's Girl Scout cookie form, enter some AVON orders, and scan Facebook, I turned the show on.  

I love how in the last couple of years, the Grammy performances have incorporated more than one act, blended together.  So, so cool.  I will probably pay for this tomorrow morning, but since the kids have a school delay tomorrow, and because they love music so much, I let them stay up way past their bedtimes to cheer on their favorite singers.  Alex went crazy when Daft Punk performed with Stevie Wonder, and Addie loved watching Sara Bareilles play with Carole King ("Brave" is one of her favorite songs right now). And who doesn't love watching the Beatles?!?  It's so much fun to see these performances, but it's also awesome to watch the kids get so excited over music.

Music has a huge impact on our lives.  It's such an important element, I think, because we can always have music playing, at least in the background (or in our heads, even), no matter what we're doing.  It can lift our moods, motivate us, help us focus.  It is there when we're happy, and there when we're sad, and there for everything in between.  It knows no boundaries.  Alex has obvious differences from his peers at school, but they can all connect through music.  There aren't many other things that have the same impact as that.  

My kids have fantastic taste in music.  They love some current pop music, but because Mark and I don't favor that genre as much, they are able to discover it on their own.  Even though I'm not a fan of Taylor Swift doesn't mean that my kids can't be.  But they don't limit themselves.  They adore the Beatles, punk out with the Ramones, and dance with me to Thao and the Get Down Stay Down (we do love our kitchen dance parties!).  They will sit and listen to jazz, classical, rock, and even some country music.  They may not even realize that they are listening to different types of music...to them, it's just "music".  

If I can keep their eclectic love of music alive, I will be one happy mama.  They may not always want to have impromptu dance parties in the kitchen, but with any luck, a love of music is something that we will always share.

Lazy

Snow.  Again.  Old news.

The difference today is that we didn't have to go anywhere.  That is rare for us; we tend to be on-the-go most days.  But not today!  Mark and I cleaned and organized around the house, the kids have played together and ventured outside a couple of times, and I (finally!) finished the book I've been reading for much too long (it was a great read; it just took me forever to get through it).  Mark did decide to run out to Lowe's (maybe he plans to work on some projects around the house, yay!) and the grocery, to gather the items he needs to make a dish for our dinner company tomorrow night.  Now he is picking up dinner so we can stuff ourselves while we watch the Blue Jackets go for their ninth win in a row (hockey is so much more fun to watch now that Andrew is interested in it!).

I think it's funny that I consider this a "lazy day", just because we didn't leave the house (well, most of us didn't).  I wasn't idle for the majority of the day; with three young kids in the house, that just doesn't happen. But I guess since I'm so used to the "go, go, go!" lifestyle, not leaving the house has become a luxury, and makes me feel like I'm not accomplishing much.

Truth be told, I probably didn't accomplish as much as I could have.  I did finish unearthing the surface of the kitchen table; it has still been acting as a catch-all, even though I moved most things to my desk a few weeks ago.  That was more of a chore than I anticipated, but I'm glad that it's finished.  I also cleaned out a small set of drawers; that project resulted in a huge bag for the recycling bin.  Wow, was there a lot of paper stuffed in those drawers.  It always makes me wonder why I decided to save those things; my guess is that I just didn't have the time or patience to deal it so I mindlessly shoved them in the drawers.  At any rate, it's nice to have that task completed too.

I will be content to continue debating with myself over how productive I actually was today...as soon as I'm done enjoying my take out and hockey game.  Happy Saturday to all!

Chicken

Adults have a lot of quirky personality traits.  I do.  I can think of traits that others possess.  There's nothing wrong with having these little attributes; they are what make us unique, but they can also help us form bonds with others.  For example, the other night at a church dinner, someone commented on the containers in which I had packed the kids' food; they have separate compartments, so the food doesn't touch.  He explained that he doesn't like his food to mix together on his plate, to which I excitedly responded "I'm like that, too!!", and we smiled at our shared quirkiness.

As adults, we embrace these qualities.  With children, however, I feel like we are too quick to try and change them.  If a kid says that they don't want their food to touch, we might think they are "too picky", and we may spend a moment attempting to convince them that it's ok for the food to mix together on the plate instead of just going with it.  My daughter insists on wearing mismatched socks, pretty much every day. When she first started doing this, we asked her why and even suggested that she wear the matched pairs. It soon become clear that wearing different socks made her happy, and it certainly wasn't hurting anything, so we just let it go, and life went on.

I will admit, I'm definitely a "pick your battles" kind of mom.  We deal with our fair share of extra challenges, and I just refuse to add more stress to our life by fighting every single one.  As a result, we end up indulging the kids' habits that other parents may choose to not tolerate.  (And that's ok.  No judgement here.  I don't question anyone's parenting, just as I hope nobody questions the choices I make for my kids.)  For Alex, that means being allowed to be a picky eater.  

He has a fairly short list of foods that he will consistently eat: chicken nuggets, fish sticks, mac & cheese (but he is very selective about what kind of m&c), pizza (again, only certain kinds), scrambled eggs, Cheerios (plain & dry), bananas, red grapes, broccoli, green beans (fresh or frozen, not canned), peas, chocolate milk, apple juice, and water (this is a new one...before, he would react to a glass of water as one would react to a glass of poison).  He is even picky about his snacks and treats: Goldfish crackers (cheddar or rainbow), pretzels, potato chips (plain), Kit Kats, and chocolate cake/cupcakes.  This list has grown a bit lately, to include tacos (meat & crunchy shell) and spaghetti (no sauce, just plain noodles).  Now, in reality, it's not a bad list because it does include fruits and vegetables.  But, we tend to eat a wider array of food, for dinners anyway (although I'll bet $10 that my husband would dispute that claim), so mealtime can be tricky.

We've been told,  many times, to serve Alex (as well as the other two) what we're eating, and if he doesn't eat it, too bad for him.  "He'll eat when he gets hungry", someone said, in advising us on Al's picky habits.  Only, he didn't.  We tried that tactic for a few days, when he was maybe around three years old, and he didn't eat a thing aside from his Goldfish crackers at snack time.  He cried and cried, and I was beyond stressed out because I knew that he was hungry and he just didn't have the ability to tell me so.  At that time, we were surely working on a handful of other issues (potty training, fine motor skills, learning his ABCs, to say the least), and I just felt that he needed to eat, even if that meant preparing a few chicken nuggets for his dinner while we ate something else.  Honestly, it's not that much more work for me (or for Mark, whomever is making dinner).  It takes no more than 60 seconds to warm up the chicken, so in the name of having a peaceful family dinner, I will still do it.

Recently, though, I started experimenting with his plate a bit.  Last winter, I came across a baked chicken recipe on Pinterest, which is pretty tasty.  I decided at the time that Al should try it...and he loved it.  "Mmm, this chicken is 'bewicious'!", he'd exclaim at the table.  I was ecstatic!  It occurred to me a few months ago that other foods look like chicken, so I started stretching the truth a bit.  Turkey at Thanksgiving?  Nope, we had "chicken"!  Broiled pork chops for dinner?  No way, that was also "chicken".  I never thought he would buy into it, but he totally does.  Now I just find myself wishing that other things looked like chicken.  

And, if he (or any of the other kids) want me to make sure that his "chicken" doesn't touch the broccoli on his plate, I will happily oblige.  After all, it's these funny little characteristics that make them the kids we adore...as frustrating as it might be at times.  Hey, if they are happy, I am happy, and life is happy.  I'll take it.

Soup

It's cold.  We've established that, I think.  It's going to be cold for many more weeks.  We are, of course, in Ohio; we'll complain that the weather is too cold until maybe May, and then we'll complain that it's too hot until October.

But for now, it's cold.  Great soup weather, isn't it?  I've been in and out of the cold all day, and Thursday evenings are busy for my family.  It was kind of a "fend for yourself" type of night; this simply means that there isn't one meal prepared and instead everyone kind of eats what they want (it doesn't mean that the kids are left to scrape together a meal on their own, ha!).  After everyone had landed home after our hectic evening, I sat down to answer emails and check out Facebook, then realized that I hadn't eaten anything yet. I wasn't really hungry (doing a water-drinking-challenge really curbs that appetite!), but I had a sudden urge for a steamy bowl of soup.  Off to the kitchen I wandered, to peruse the pantry in search of my dinner.

In case you didn't already know, I am a terrible cook.  Awful.  Not so bad that I can't get a meal on the table, but bad enough that I don't usually try to make something new or experiment with different recipes.  In an attempt to cut down on processed foods, I'm making more of an effort, but I will admit that I do still buy some food items that probably aren't so "whole".  Canned soup is one of those items.  Tonight, I was happy to pop open a can of vegetable soup.

I would love, though, to master a good soup recipe.  I can't say that I haven't tried; one day, a couple months ago, I attempted to make a chicken noodle soup.  The picture in the recipe was beautiful: a lovely, golden broth with vibrant, colorful vegetables.  Mine?  Looked like gray mush.  I don't know where I went wrong, but I haven't tried it again.

In the spirit of "try, try again", feel free to share a good soup recipe (read: easy soup recipe).  My family will thank you!

Until then, I will continue to enjoy my canned selections, as I did this evening.  Gotta stay warm somehow.

Grumpy

I. AM. OVER. THIS. WEATHER.

The cold.  The snow.  The two hour delays for school...which mean no school at all for my preschooler.  The behaviors caused by irregular schedules.  I'm so completely done with winter, I can't even stand it.

And I live in Ohio.  So, yeah, I'm pretty much out of luck.  Unless I pack everyone up and head south, I am just going to have to suck it up (but not too hard, lest I choke on the arctic air).

I know that I shouldn't complain; I should just be thankful that I have a warm home.  Some days, though, it's really, really difficult to remember that.  I wouldn't mind so much if the weather didn't interfere with our schedules.  But, it does, and that is especially tough on my Alex, who likes to have a consistent routine. When his schedule gets thrown off, look out.  I dealt with another epic meltdown tonight, which I partially attribute to the wonky school schedule today. I'll pay for that tomorrow in back pain (he still pulls the ol' "flop-and-drop", only he's much bigger and heavier now than he was when he first started that nonsense), but since I can't go to the gym now anyway (no child care there), it really doesn't matter.

Instead, I may spend the day, quietly rocking in a corner and dreaming of spring...or summer...or a beach...where I could sit with an umbrella cocktail and not deal with the domino effects of a crappy winter. Maybe I'll skip the dreaming part and sit in the corner with an umbrella cocktail.  But, then nothing else would get done (as the rest of the world doesn't stop just because it's cold in the morning...), and I would be left with no choice but to bore anyone who may be reading my ramblings with more grumpy complaints about something else.

I'll try to spare you.  Stay warm, friends.

Hockey

Go Jackets!

Columbus is such a cool city; there is so much to do.  Being out in the suburbs with three young kids, we miss out on some of the action, but fortunately we're close enough to take advantage of what we can.

We may not have pro football or basketball teams, but we've got hockey (Blue Jackets) and soccer (Crew). Even those who may not be die-hard fans can show up to support their city's teams, and have a great time doing it.  Mark and I attended several hockey games before the kids came along, and it was always fun to go.  It's a bit different these days; the games are still fun, but they are loud (too loud, sometimes) for the kids, and there is a lot less beer consumed when we go as a family (ha!).  It's a much different experience, but still fun, just the same.

We were fortunate to receive tickets given to the Down Syndrome Association of Central Ohio by one of the CBJ players.  RJ Umberger has generously given DSACO tickets on more than one occasion, and we were happy to have an opportunity to take the kids to a game tonight.  Andrew has recently discovered hockey, so he was thrilled to see them play.  Alex was a little more apprehensive (the poor kid remembered the noise from the cannon from the game he attended two years ago), but he was a trooper and made it through the first period in his seat.

After that, though, he was done.  Mark took him out to the area just outside of the arena (where the concessions are) so he could relax a bit.  Out there, he had a great time.  He had a giant tv all to himself, a big box of popcorn, and a great game to watch.  He was a happy kid again!  I switched places with Mark after a while, so he could enjoy the game as it unfolded, rather than watching it on tv.  Alex happily waited out in his little area, and was very excited that his team was winning.

The arena staff was truly fantastic.  When Mark took Alex out, a Guest Services representative noticed Al and quickly caught on that the game was overwhelming for him.  She offered Mark earplugs for Alex, and then suggested moving our seats so that Al would be more comfortable.  At that point, though, Alex wasn't going back into the arena, but we were grateful for the offers.  The entire staff (all those who checked our bags, scanned our tickets, showed us to our seats, filled our concession orders, and tried to make us comfortable) was pleasant, courteous, and made us feel very welcome.

Even though Alex isn't quite ready to handle an entire game (I've already requested noise-cancelling headphones, so that we can hopefully try again soon!), we still enjoyed the evening.  When your hometown team wins, that makes the occasion a bit sweeter.  Go Jackets!

Sports

Everyone wants some entertainment in life.  I have award shows; others have professional sports.

Facebook was all abuzz this morning, wasn't it?  I didn't watch the games, but from the looks of it, some of my friends were happy and excited with the outcomes while others were sad and disappointed.  Apparently, there was a player that gave a fired up interview after the second game; those few seconds seemed to overshadow the end result of that game.  I had to scroll through many posts regarding his outburst before realizing that he was on the winning team.

I finally gave in to my curiosity and watched a clip of the interview, expecting to hear a swear word that slipped by the censors, or perhaps a choice hand gesture.  I was even more curious when I didn't see anything like that. Yes, he was obnoxious.  But, I've seen my husband get all worked up after watching a game, so I guess I can see how a player could be even more excitable after actually contributing to a win/loss.  He spoke loudly, he was rude; I've seen behavior like this before from athletes (and from people in a grocery store, but that's another blog for another time).  Why did everyone feel like this particular situation deserved so much time on my Facebook feed?

I should mention that I have very little appreciation for professional sports.  Most of the time, I don't care to watch them.  I understand the value a team can bring the city in which they are based; money is brought into the city, jobs are created, a sense of unity is shared in the community.  But beyond that, what is it that makes people care so much about professional sports?  Absolutely, you should watch a game, cheer on your team, and relish their victories if you're a fan.  But when the game doesn't end the way you'd like, does that warrant the tirades like those I've read today over last night's episode?  It can't really have such an effect on your own life, if you're just a fan in the stands or at home (unless, maybe, you're putting money on the game, but even then...).

I just don't get it.  It's a game. A game for which the players are paid obscene amounts of money, are treated like heroes, and then act like jerks...and we're surprised by that!  It's like giving a child a ton of candy and toys, and then being shocked when they behave like monsters.  We shower athletes with fame and adoration, then expect them to behave themselves all the time.  I'm not excusing last night's exhibit of poor sportsmanship.  I just think that when we build up a surreal empire, all realistic expectations (including those where players properly behave) should go out the window.

I do recognize that not all players are like this, and perhaps that is why people keep watching?  Are they keeping the faith that more will follow that example?  There are some wonderful role models in professional sports, and I think they are worthy of admiration.  I have a difficult time believing that their athletic prowess warrants such a huge payday, but again, I just don't get it.

Sports fulfill a need for entertainment, and that is important.  Beyond that, I'm still figuring it all out.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, I will watch the Super Bowl...but only for the commercials.  That's entertainment enough for me.

Strep

Can you guess who gets to take meds for the next ten days?

Poor Alex is ill.  It doesn't happen often, and it usually comes and goes quickly, but it always comes with its fair share of drama.

Last night, Al fell asleep on the couch around 6pm.  This rarely happens, and I braced myself for some kind of sickness (and crossed my fingers that we weren't about to get hit with a stomach virus!).  He woke up several times before we moved him upstairs, and was very fussy, but didn't feel particularly warm.  He finally said that his "mouth hurt", which is exactly what he told us about every two weeks before his tonsils were removed.

That was a fun stretch of time.  The poor kid, who hated to take medicine, was getting sick with strep every few weeks.  In between his illnesses, another family member (at least one of us, anyway) would also get strep.  It felt like someone was always sick.  We finally made the decision that his tonsils had to come out, but not before Al managed to tolerate taking his "pink" (this is what he calls amoxicillin).  The surgery was pretty typical (but not uneventful!), and since then he's only had strep a couple of times.

This is one of those times.  Instead of joining us for church this morning, Mark took Alex to urgent care, where our suspicions were confirmed.  Fortunately, we're already in the wash-your-hands-constantly mode and we're never short on Clorox wipes around here (one benefit of flu season, I suppose...I'm on the look out for germs!), so I'm hopeful that his strep doesn't spread to anyone else.  Alex will have an extra day to rest tomorrow, which is another perk of getting sick on a weekend (or perhaps, the only perk?).

Funny thing, another family member also started amoxicillin today: Maisey.  For the first time ever we filled a prescription for one of the kids, only to return a few hours later to get the same prescription for the dog.  She doesn't have strep (can dogs even get strep?), but a mild UTI; we're hoping that the antibiotics will clear that up, and curb the peeing-on-the-floor situation (although her doc feels that it may be an anxiety issue...we'll see).

So, we'll spend the next day resting, and disinfecting, and hibernating from the next cold blast that's headed our way.  What else would we do in January?!?

Glitz

As I sit here, on the sofa, on a cold and snowy Saturday night, I couldn't be more content.  I've got my warm pajamas, a fluffy blanket, and the SAG Awards.  Perfection for this tired mama duck.

I have an obsession with award shows.  The glamour of the gowns, the sparkle of the jewels, the anticipation of hearing the actors say something witty.  The awards really have no impact on my personal life, other than perhaps dictating which movies or tv shows I add to my never ending "to watch" list, or determining which celebrities I add to my Twitter feed.  I think I'm partially in awe of the over-the-top glitz, and partially envious of the profession in which the winners are being recognized.  As an introvert who wishes she was more outspoken (my husband may disagree with that last part), it amazes me that these people continuously put themselves in situations where they must be the center of attention.  The mere thought of having to walk in shoes that are not flats, down that red carpet, is enough to make me panic; I can't imagine making a career out of expecting millions of people to watch you all the time.

I am happy enough to sit on the sidelines and watch the parade of glamour, and then read all the unseen details in the following days.  As ridiculous and pointless as it may seem, it's an escape from reality that everyone so desperately needs some time or another.

My favorite awards show is the Golden Globes, because it brings the best of both screen sizes into one room.  The atmosphere seems so festive; the constant flow of champagne may have something to do with that, though.  For the Oscars, I try to catch some of the "pregame coverage" so I can get an extra long look at all the frivolous fluff that goes hand in hand with all things Hollywood.  For those few hours, I can stop worrying about the kids, the house, and all of the world problems that I am determined to solve on my own. I can sit back, in my anything-but-glamorous pajamas, and live vicariously through all of the talented individuals I watch and admire.

Some people look forward to the NFL playoffs and the Super Bowl.  I find the same excitement in hearing "...and the Golden Globe/Actor/Academy Award goes to..."

Dance

Alex, in action at dance class

As I've mentioned before, all of my children take dance classes. On Friday nights, Al gets his turn.

Last year was his first year of dance, and he eagerly asked to continue with his lessons this year. We happily obliged. Dance is so great for all kids, but for Alex, it's fantastic. He gets an extra dose of learning how to work with peers (taking turns, minding everyone's space, listening to a teacher). He also gets exercise, expends some energy, and has a ton of fun while doing it.

I'm always impressed, watching him dance. He is so into it! He may not perfectly perform every move, but he has rhythm, and you can tell that he really loves music and dancing. What impresses me more, though, is how welcomed he is into his class. We choose to place him into a class for five and six year olds, as the class for nine year old kiddos is just too far above his skill level. Being smaller than most typically developing kids his age, he blends in with the younger kiddos quite well. The only thing that may set him apart from his classmates is the fact that he's a boy, while the other dancers are all girls (last year, there was another boy in the class, but the ratio was about the same because that class was bigger); for once, it's not his Down syndrome setting him apart from the crowd. The kids in his classes have been wonderful; they encourage him, or help keep him in line, whichever is needed at a given moment. He looks forward to seeing them each week.

Even beyond that, though, is something so simple: at the studio where my children dance, we've never had to make a case for him to be included. This is particularly striking to me, I think, because I feel like we are constantly struggling to have him included with kids his own age at school...perhaps the most obvious opportunity for inclusion. There are few places where I've expected at least some level of convincing in order for him to participate, yet was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn't necessary, and dance class is one of those places. He's included, but that's not to say he gets any special treatment. His teachers, past and present, caught on to his stunts early on, and he doesn't get away with much in class. It is awesome. He has clear boundaries and expectations that he is expected to follow, but he is still included and enjoys every minute of it. We couldn't ask for more.

So each week, all three of my kids happily spin and jump and learn the routines that we will so joyfully watch them perform on stage in June at their annual recital. We certainly won't be the only proud parents in the crowd, but we may have an extra sparkle in our eye as we watch Alex, on stage with his dance friends, doing what he loves so much.

Coupons

Everybody likes to save money, right?  Some people are enthusiastic about a good deal, while others seem to make a sport of it.  We've even seen a new verb, "couponing", spring from the obsession.  I tend to fall more in the middle of the curve; I utilize coupons, but I'm definitely not the lady at checkout paying $0.23 for two carts full of groceries.  Searching for, clipping, and then remembering to use coupons is a lot of work.  It can certainly pay off, but when you're as busy as I am, it's more difficult to keep up.  We live in an area where there are many grocery-type stores, so while it's easy to hit them all for their weekly deals, it does take some time organizing lists and determining where to buy what.  I find that I do save money by doing that, though, so I don't usually mind the extra stops.

Each week, I scan the Sunday newspaper coupon inserts, but I'm finding that more and more of the products are those that I don't want my kids to eat: fruit snacks full of artificial colors and flavors, cereals coated in sugar, and other random junk.  I do clip the coupons for yogurt, dog food, and a few other items (new products that look interesting, for example), but more often than not, I just don't have a use for them.

Enter the fun new coupon apps!  I am loving that I can upload coupons to my store loyalty cards, or just flash a barcode on my phone at checkout, to save some money.  Target's new Cartwheel app is especially convenient; often, I just pull over in an aisle as I'm shopping to scan the offers they have available.  I no longer have an excuse to not use coupons, because the stores are making it easier to do so; brilliant, because that is bound to draw in the crazy busy mamas who are trying to save a buck.

Offering free stuff always catches my eye, too.  Earth Fare is great about offering a free product when you spend $10; I started buying meat almost exclusively from EF, and if I get a freebie, then I'll totally make another grocery stop.  They also have a great kids' night every week, where kids can eat free when the adult spends $5 in prepared food.  Tonight, I took two of my kids after their dance classes, and all three of us had a great dinner for $5.46.  It was a great meal, for much less than it would have cost us at a fast food joint, and I didn't have to cook after a long day (score!).

My favorite coupons, by far, are birthday deals.  Many places will send you freebies via email if you sign up on their website.  This year, I found that I couldn't find time to use all the offers I received, as most of them expire within a week of your birthday.  I managed to squeeze in three free meals and a free latte from Starbucks, though!

As much as I enjoy redeeming my coupons (and especially those freebie offers!), I think I am far from becoming an "extreme couponer".  I have absolutely no desire to spend hours grocery shopping each week, figuring out which offers can be stacked with weekly sales and rebates.  If you're one of those couponing enthusiasts, good work!  While you're doing that, I'll just be over here, searching for more free birthday deals to use next year.

Tired

All kids have bad days.  All people have bad days.  But when Alex has a bad day, it goes beyond what most people would probably imagine, because he tends to save these episodes for me.  It's always fun, though, when Alex chooses to display his tantrums in public, and even more fun when it occurs in front of people we know (like this evening, when he threw himself on the floor, screaming, in front of not one, but all three pastors at our church).

And today, of all days, I chose to work on my arms at the gym.  So there I was, already sore, and trying to convince my stubborn kiddo (who is very strong, I might add) to put on his coat and his shoes so we could go home.  Easy request, right?  I wasn't asking him to do anything difficult.  But wow, did that set him off.  I still don't know exactly why he got so upset.  He is probably very tired, having not slept well last night, and he didn't eat much dinner so he could have been hungry.  It was also the first night of a new Wednesday evening schedule, so that could have also played into the situation.

It's like having an inconsolable infant; you know something is wrong, and you can narrow it down to a few things that may be causing the tantrum, and then all you can do is try to go down the list to find a solution. Only in this case, it's much more frustrating because he is capable of telling me what he wants or needs, but for some unknown reason, this time he doesn't.  He is very verbal; he makes demands all the time.  He sings songs and tells jokes, and has a terrific imagination.  He has the ability to "use his words" (I can't tell you how many times a day I use that phrase), but in this scenario, he just doesn't. Instead, he cries and screams, and I'm left to determine why.

To add insult to injury, when I share these situations with those who are supposed to be helping us, I get the ever-predictable response of placing the blame on his Down syndrome.  I'm not buying it anymore.  Yes, his Down syndrome makes communication more difficult for him, but why does he have that hairline trigger that sets him off the way it does?  Why, after throwing a 20 minute tantrum, can he revert back to his cheerful, funny disposition, like nothing ever happened?  Something else is going on; his Down syndrome might contribute to it, but there is something else.

Now, to just figure out what that is, and how to handle it.  Exhausting.

Gym

I've never been a big fan of "the gym".  It didn't matter where; I've toured many of them, joined a few, and quit most.  I just didn't enjoy the environment; I never felt comfortable.  However, after learning that a new Planet Fitness would open nearby, and after seeing their commercials (all which somehow include "...and that's why I don't like gyms"), I decided to give it another go.

And the funniest thing happened: I realized that I am a fan of the gym!  Aside from writing (ok, and eating, but I'm working on that...kind of), it's my only other release from the chaos I endure on a daily basis.  Do I need to lose weight?  Sure; at least a little.  Do I need to be stronger?  Definitely.  If I can accomplish those two things while I take a break from my crazy little world, then I'll be in good shape.  (Ha!  See what I did there?)

Today, after a long break (too long!), I made it back to the gym.  It felt good...at the time.  Now, I'm extra tired and a little sore, but after maybe a month off (no child care + extra long holiday break = no free time for Mom, not even for exercise), I shouldn't expect less.  I know it will take me a while to build back up to where I was in early December, but as long as I keep going, then I'm making progress.  Baby steps.

The gym also offers some excellent people watching.  Notice, I say "watching", and not "judging".  I used to always be afraid that people were watching me workout, and I would worry that I was doing something wrong (or not lifting enough, or going fast enough on the elliptical).  Maybe I'm just wiser than I was the last time I made an effort of this sort, but I can say that now, I don't really care.  If someone wants to pass judgment on me, then they have more issues than I do.  But, I will admit, I enjoy the people watching aspect of working out.  Mostly, I'm admiring people; those who are there when I arrive and stay longer than I do, those who seem so determined to reach whatever goal they have in mind.  But, there are also those who really pique my curiosity: the lady who wears slacks and a cardigan to work out, the guy who is a borderline "lunk" (I do appreciate the fact that "lunks" are not permitted in my gym, so the borderline lunk is quite perplexing), the guy that wears way too much cologne.  These are the people I find interesting, because I want to know what their stories are.  What brings them there?  What are they hoping to achieve?  And why, oh why, all the cologne?!?  Wondering about these things just helps me pass the time, especially when I'm sweating all over a cardio machine.  

Hopefully, tomorrow morning I will wake up and not talk myself out of returning to the gym.  Cold mornings are tough; it's a race to get the kids ready for their bus on time, and then get Andrew to preschool.  It's really all to easy to convince myself that the morning would be better spent wandering around Target.  

But, I made it through today's workout, so I can make it through another one.  

Meetings

I'm not a big fan of meetings.  Meetings typically aren't called to discuss something fun; if that was the case, it would be called a "party" or "celebration".  On the contrary, "meetings" are usually very serious times to discuss an important matter.  And I don't enjoy them, not one bit.

Since Alex started school, we have sat through endless meetings.  We have also sat through meetings to learn how to handle other meetings.  It's exhausting.  Some meetings are stressful, others are aggravating, and still others leave me in a state of pure shock and/or confusion that it takes me hours (if not days) to sort it all out and revise the game plan.

Any parent of a child on an IEP knows that you don't just get to send your kid to school.  Nope.  Oh, but wouldn't that just be lovely?  To send your child off, happy and smiling, and know with some certainty that everything they need is being taken care of, without having to look over every shoulder and constantly be viewed as "that parent"?  These are the things I dream of, usually when I should be prepping for another meeting.

I know, I know, there are certainly difficulties for other parents, for other reasons, even if your child isn't on an IEP.  Perhaps, it is these parents that can most closely empathize with the trials and tribulations of the IEP parents.  Most have no idea what we encounter, in our efforts for inclusion; it's always interesting to see the reactions of those who finally get an inkling of our experience.

I'm quite certain that it's no picnic to be on the other side of the meeting table, either.  Here's the thing, though: it's nothing personal.  I don't care who is sitting across from me; I'm still going to advocate for my son.  The problem that most of us probably face is that our advocacy efforts are taken as attacks on individuals.  Then, it becomes all too easy for tempers to flare, for feelings to get hurt.  But, listen: it's usually not the teachers causing the parents' frustrations.  It's a broken system, rooted in money issues (although nobody can come right out and say that) and the fact that our kiddos don't contribute to the districts' performance ratings because in most cases, they aren't taking standardized tests.  Those two elements make it very difficult to change the system in our kids' favor.  As long as the districts are meeting the minimum requirements, it is nearly impossible for the pleas of the parents to fall on cooperative ears.  It's been suggested to me more than once (by family, and quite frankly, myself!) that we should just move to another district.  But then, though, we'll have a whole new catalog of problems.  It's that pesky "grass is always greener" lesson that I'm not interested in learning again.

I'm absolutely not picking on the school district which my children attend, as I know that parents across the country, with kiddos of varying diagnoses, are having the exact same struggles that my family is having (in fact, some have much more daunting battles!).  Our district is excellent and my other two children will benefit greatly from attending such wonderful schools.  Of course, Alex has also benefited, in different ways; but, I am confident that he could benefit even more if we could all get on the same page.

Until that time comes, though, I will sit through as many meetings as it takes, and I will encourage other parents to do the same for their children.  The "minimum" just isn't good enough for any kid, but that is all they will get without strong advocacy efforts from parents.  Fight hard, fight loud.

And if I have to be "that parent", so be it.

Church

Sundays are lovely.  Mark typically does not work on Sundays (the only day he doesn't work!), and it's usually a nice, relaxing, family day.  Most of our family begins our day at church.  I say "most" because, well, not everybody goes every week.  Being an interfaith couple (Mark is Jewish) and having a child with special needs, it's actually a bit rare to see all five of us at church.  My daughter and I are the most regular attendees, but each of us benefits from being a part of the church, regardless of our attendance.

I grew up going to church, here and there, with my aunt; I loved it!  Sunday School was so fun, and I loved going to Vacation Bible School.  As I got older, and we moved away, it was more difficult to visit that church, and eventually we didn't go at all.  As I continued to grow up, I slowly realized that I didn't agree with certain beliefs held by some churches, and that made it difficult to find the "right" church.  It's never made sense to me to exclude anyone from being treated as an equal part of society.  I don't care who you are, what you look like, whom you love, what you believe...to me, we're all the same, and should be treated as such.  It shouldn't even be an issue, but sadly, it is.  Because I feel so strongly about this, I felt like I was being disrespectful when I did attend a church service, and eventually I just stopped looking.

Then, when Alex was born, I found myself thrown into the world of advocacy; facing new battles to make sure that someone (my Al) would be given the same rights and opportunities, even though he is different than others.  Beyond that, I found myself asking the same question whenever we thought about going somewhere new or trying something different: would we be treated differently because of his Down syndrome?  I'd heard stories that indicate that people with disabilities aren't accepted as equal participants in society, even in places like church, where everyone should be welcome.

But, I'd already learned that not everybody was welcome at church; at least, not at every church.  So I didn't even try to find a place where we might feel welcome on Sundays.  Then, one day I was scrolling through Facebook, and suddenly I felt like a church kind of found me.  A friend (who is even more passionate about equal rights for all) posted adorable pictures of her kids, at church, on Easter.  Those pictures struck me; I immediately thought that if my friend was attending a church, then this church was different.  Special.  Inclusive.  Exactly what I wanted for my family.

After several questions to my friend, many visits to the church website, and months of debating (my husband is Jewish, remember, and we had been coping with the "religion and kids issue" by just not dealing with it), I finally attended church on a dreary March Sunday.  I took Addie with me to check it out, and I was immediately welcomed, given a tour, and then someone invited me to sit with her and her friends.  Addie enjoyed the children's program; we both left that day with a warm, fuzzy feeling about our experience.  We went back the next week.  I took Andrew with me the next time, and finally, took Alex.

I have always been impressed with the church: the music, the messages, the building itself.  But, it's the children's programs that really blow me away.  My kids (all three of them!) perform with the children's choir and participate in the pageants and VBS.  They each attend a children's worship service; Alex is able to spend his time in a sensory-sensitive program, which is fantastic.  Usually, especially in a new setting, I am apprehensive about leaving Alex.  Would his Down syndrome throw them for a loop?  How will they understand him?  Will he be frustrated and act out?  But, I have never felt uncertain about leaving Alex so that I could attend service; no matter what he is doing (choir, children's service, pageant rehearsal), he is treated the exact same way as the other kids.  They adapt the programs for him, instead of expecting us to adapt to the program.  It's wonderful.  He feels safe and loved, and because of that, he loves going...and everyone he sees while we're there.  And because the kids are so well taken care of, I can relax and enjoy the peacefulness that surrounds the services.  I need that, and I am very grateful for it.  On the rare weeks that I miss church, I notice myself feeling "off" throughout the week, which I attribute to missing out on my hour of quiet reflection on Sunday morning.

All of us really enjoy attending service; even Mark finds the church to be very welcoming.  He joined a small group with me and we've developed some great friendships that we otherwise may not have discovered. More importantly, we get a weekly reminder that we are all beloved children of God, no matter what our differences may be. Everyone is the same, and we should love, respect, and celebrate one another. That is exactly the lesson I want my children to grow up learning.

On the Sundays which all five of us attend church, we go out to lunch afterward (with my children, eating out is truly an event!), then it's on to whatever else we need to accomplish before the weekend is over.

In our chaotic (not to mention exhausting, unruly, and very, very loud...) life, this is truly is a great way to start off each week.

Cookies

Today is the day many people seem to wait for all year: the first day of Girl Scout Cookie sales.

My little Girl Scout (she is actually a Brownie this year) is kicking off her third year of this iconic event. Because it's always so cold, last year I allowed her to utilize my Facebook page to sell her cookies. I would set her up, she would tap out a status update, and take orders from those who responded.  It was great. She got lots of orders, and we both stayed a lot warmer than we would have been if we pounded the pavement. Weather permitting, we'll stop by some of the houses on our street, and she plans to ask around a bit at church and at her school, but if she can reach her goal solely by utilizing social media, then so be it!

Addie has a pretty ambitious goal this year; she is hoping to sell 500 boxes.  She's a smart girl, this one.  The prize she wants to earn comes after selling 204 boxes, but she set her goal a little bit higher than that because she has sold more than that in the past sales.  The big prizes (a laptop or an iPad, your choice) are earned after selling a mere 3000 boxes.  Of course, she really wants her own iPad (and everything you get leading up to that prize), but even she knows that isn't realistic.  She'll try her best, though, and as long as she is enjoying herself, I will support her.

We all know, of course, that it's the parents really driving these sales.  The girls can't drive, and they are hopefully not going out unaccompanied to sell cookies in their neighborhoods; they simply would not be as successful if they did not have the assistance.  Other than my husband taking an order form to work, we expect Addie to do all the selling on her own.  She may use my Facebook page, but she types all the updates and then helps tally all the orders.  When the cookies arrive at the end of February, she will help sort everything and hand off the orders.  It's her sale, and even though she needs assistance, she needs to learn the lessons at hand (using manners, speaking clearly to adults, collecting money, tracking her sales progress...). For me, the twinkle in her eyes when she talks about the prizes she can earn is more than enough prize for all the work I'll put into this sale.

That, and the half dozen boxes of Thin Mints I'll consume this spring.

Kerplunk

Friday nights are typically pretty low key for our family.  Alex has dance class, and the other two kiddos usually stay home with Mark while I take Al to class.  After that, we have an easy dinner, then everyone is off to bed (parents are exhausted by 9pm on Fridays!).  I was looking forward to another one of these pleasantly predictable evenings, but the universe seemingly had different plans.

I received a phone call from Mark; I expected him to tell me that he got delayed in a meeting at work, and wouldn't make it home in time to stay with the kids...meaning that I would have to drag everyone out and listen to Addie and Andrew whine and fight all through the hour we'd spend at the dance studio.  Not fun.  I was rather annoyed at the mere thought of it; it's been a long, wonky week (two snow days and one delayed start, remember!) and I needed a break from cranky kids.

I answered Mark's call, preparing to hear the news of a late arrival, and not expecting to hear "My car is dead.  On the freeway.  Not sure where." Suuuuuuper.  I take it back; the "I'm running late" speech would be way better than this announcement.  I began to panic a bit.  If he didn't know exactly where on the freeway he was stopped, then how would I ever find him?  The kids were going to freak, especially Alex, who really looks forward to his dance class every week.  Mark proceeded to explain that he was just letting me know not to wait for him, that he would have the car towed.

I should mention that this car is 14 years old, has been completely rebuilt (engine and such) at least once, has gone through endless repairs, and has been on its last legs for the last couple of years.  This was inevitable.  It broke down last week (on my birthday, fun!), but we were able to jump it and get it going again.  It (surprisingly) survived the Polar Vortex. Alas, it seems as though that was its last hurrah, as it now sits sadly in the driveway.

And we are left to figure out how to replace it (and yes, take the kiddos along when we go car shopping tomorrow).  The prospect of getting a new car should be exciting, not headache inducing; but, when only one parent works, any major purchase can bring about physical reactions.  I know that we'll figure it out, as we always manage to find a solution, but until it's settled, I'll just be over here, stressing out about something new.

I should just be thankful that Mark made it home in one piece.  Once we were all home and getting ready for dinner, Mark told me how he was just driving along, in the middle left lane, when all the sudden the gas pedal gave out and the car made a terrible noise.  That was it: weird noise, then no power.  He was coasting along on the freeway, during rush hour, yet somehow managed to make it over to the far left to come to a stop on the shoulder.  He contacted me, then AAA, then the police...as the power went out completely and he had no hazard lights.  Cars were whizzing past him, as he sat helplessly in the broken down car; scary!  The police came along to light some flares, then left him again.  Of course, his phone died, but the tow truck finally arrived and brought Mark and the car home.  Hopefully someone else can come get it sooner rather than later, as it was dumped right in the center of the driveway (I may have driven through the grass a bit to get my van into the garage when we got home...but that's the least of my worries right now).

So tomorrow, as you're enjoying your leisurely Saturday afternoon activities, think of me.  I'll be stuck at a car dealership, half listening to Mark negotiate a price on a new car while the kids tear the joint apart and I rip all my hair out.  Good times.

Twirl

Addie, my tiny dancer

I'm convinced that my little ballerina twirls more than she walks.  Addie twirls and spins, spins and twirls, all about the house...and the grocery store, and through the mall, and probably even at school, given the opportunity.  I wish I could see what she sees in her mind as she dances; is she on a big stage in front of lots of people, or in an empty studio?  Is she wearing a big, fluffy tutu, or her standard leotard and tights? I should ask her to write it out for me (as she is quite the writer, too!).

When asked that million dollar question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?", she often says that she wants to be a ballet teacher.  She has a true love of the arts, and she is so fortunate to have a fantastic art program at her school, and she started her fifth year of dance studies this fall.  Five years!  She was just three years old when she started dance classes, and she has loved every minute of it.  Last year, she began talking about auditioning for her dance studio's company...at just six years old.  She still as a couple years of learning and dancing to do before she can audition, and she knows this, but I love that she has a vision of being part of that program.

Last month, my mom took us to see a performance of The Nutcracker.  As always, BalletMet Columbus put on a beautiful show, and although it wasn't Addie's first trip to the iconic holiday production, she was instantly captivated and swept into the magic and beauty of the show. The best part, for me, was watching Addie as the dancer portraying the Sugar Plum Fairy stepped forward for her curtain call; she almost came out of her seat, applauding so hard, and her eyes were huge and sparkly.  Maybe she imagined herself on that stage someday?

I can see that her ballet studies are also building Addie's confidence.  One of my proudest moments as a "dance mom" (although it is one of my life missions to NEVER be a true "dance mom"...you know, one of those pushy stage moms...it's just not my thing) was watching Addie leave the dance studio a couple of months ago, then stop short and turn to go back in to talk to a classmate.  The other girl didn't look familiar, but I figured that they either went to school together, or had formed a new friendship after just a few weeks of class.  When I asked Ad about it, she simply replied "She's new to our class.  I wanted to let her know that she did a good job today so she would feel welcome."

It's funny how our kids can teach us things without meaning to, isn't it?

My hope for Addie is that she can continue to dance, and enjoy her classes, for as long as it remains meaningful to her.  She has already abandoned other activities (like soccer), in favor of ballet, as she knows that she doesn't have room in her schedule for everything.  I will continue to encourage her, enjoy watching her practice and perform, and wonder how she envisions herself as she twirls through the living room.

My guess?  On stage, in front of a large audience, wearing a sparkly purple tutu.

Lessons

With three kids in the house, I am constantly throwing out phrases like "Read a book!", "Snacks should be fruits or veggies, not junk!", and "Pick that up!  Don't just walk over it!".  Most of the time, these suggestions get drowned out by all the noise in the house, and even if the kids do hear me, they just big fat ignore me. Those things aren't fun; the alternatives are much more appealing.

Between a long holiday break and extra cold weather, we spent a lot of time at home; with our busy schedules, this is unusual.  It was nice to not be rushing around on our crazy paths, but I allowed us all to get a little lazy.  I told myself we were relaxing.  Now I'm paying for it.

Our kids don't have the latest, snazziest electronics; partly because we don't want to pay for it, and partly because they are all under ten years old and just don't need it.  However, we do have some gadgets, and they are easily sucked into them.  This is where the "Read a book!" suggestion came into play.  Actually, it was more like "Read. A. BOOK!!", especially after they started fighting over whose turn it was to play on whatever tech-y toy had their attention that day.  That was my solution.  Put away the gadget, get a book, and be quiet.  Easy enough, right?  Only, it never worked out that way.  They may have read for a while, but later they were back at it.  The days were long, so in the end, they enjoyed more screen time than they typically get.

Being stuck in the house also led to mindless munching, so they heard "Snacks should be fruits or veggies, not junk!" quite a bit, as well.  It was Christmastime, though, so there was a LOT of extra candy and other sweets around, and we all indulged a bit too much.  See above about the days being long, as it applies to this as well.

As for "Pick that up!  Don't just walk over it!"...well, they probably hear that (or some version of it) at least once a day, holiday break or not.  It makes me crazy when a kid walks on top of something (piece of paper, Hot Wheels car, each other...) but does not stop to pick it up.  I don't care who put it there; if you see it, fix it!  I suppose I'll be battling that one for many years to come.

Today, as I heard myself spouting off one of these, it struck me: when was the last time I listened to myself and set an example?  It was one of those light bulb moments: why don't I follow my own advice?

Being a mother of a child with special needs is stressful.  Being a mother, or father, of anybody is stressful.  I have allowed myself to slack off, big time, and just write if off as dealing with stress.  "Sure, I can eat those Hostess cupcakes. Today totally sucked.", or "I'll just play five...or 15...more rounds of Candy Crush, because I need to clear my head.", or, "Hey, I'll just clean off my desk tomorrow, because I really need to just sit and eat cupcakes and play Candy Crush."

I'm not saying that nobody should ever do any of these things; I'm not here to tell anyone how to handle stress.  But for me, it's gone on for a long time, and maybe, just maybe I've inadvertently taught the kids that this is appropriate, every day behavior.  Something to think about, at least.

So, how should I be dealing with stress?  Honestly, I don't know.  I have a gym membership, and enjoy going to the gym, but I have to do it around everyone else's schedules.  I love to read, but at the end of the day, I'm exhausted and know that if I open a book, I could be up all night (I easily get whisked into a good story and insist on finishing it...).  I know that the diets of everyone in this house need to improve (we need to cut more processed foods out...it's a tough process!), but it's so much easier (and cheaper!) to stay in our regular routines (Taco Tuesday, anyone?).

I do know this: if I started listening to myself and doing what I advise of my kids, then maybe they would take notice.  If nothing else, I would be dealing with stress in a much healthier way.  Maybe that's all the reason I need.

Remembering

(I'm taking a break from enjoying the current heat wave...we've gone from -8 degrees to a balmy 6 degrees...to bring you this post...)

This week's cold snap, or Polar Vortex (will this be one of the top terms of 2014?  Or is it too early to discuss that?), prompted the news outlets to proclaim that we are experiencing the coldest temperatures in twenty years.  Twenty years?  That used to not mean so much to me, as I'm such a young, hip soul (play along and save your comments, ok?), but when I stopped to consider that piece of trivia, I realized that I actually remember the last time we dealt with subzero temperatures.  Not surprising, considering the reason.

I was a sophomore in high school, and it was February.  I recall that because my high school had an annual Sweetheart Dance, where girls had to invite dates (the feminist in me now hopes that this tradition has fallen to the wayside), and my friends and I were very excited for the dance.  I had a date, a cute semi-formal dress, and I had booked my appointments at the local tanning salon.

Now, if you know me, you are probably very surprised to read that last part.  Tanning salon?  Me?!?  The one that can't be out in the sun, even with SPF 50+, and not get sunburned?  The pasty, freckled, very pale one that can not tan to save her life? Yep.  'Tis true.  Tanning beds were all the rage back then; we didn't have any of this spray tan stuff.  I didn't go tanning all the time, but every once in a while I could convince myself that if I just tried one more time, I could hold some color.  So, a-tanning I would go.

You can imagine the panic that set in, at least with all the girls, when school was cancelled for several days before the dance because of inclement weather.  It was super cold (thus, the parallel to this week's weather), but I also remember a lot of snow on the ground.  We were so concerned that the dance would also be cancelled, as most school events typically are when school is closed due to weather issues.  For whatever reason, though, the dance was not cancelled, and I went ahead to my last tanning appointment on the day of the dance.

Everyone has those "stupid teenager" ideas, right?  Well, one of mine was to stay in the tanning bed for extra time that day.  What was I thinking?  I probably thought that I would walk away, nicely browned and looking lovely for the dance.

Wrong.  Way wrong.

That evening, I greeted my date wearing a black, strapless party dress, complete with a bright red sunburn (tanning bed burn?) that was even more painful than it looked.  The burn was in a lovely circle shape on my chest, as well as my back, which made the strapless dress just the perfect frock for the occasion.  Oh, the looks I got at the restaurant during dinner, and I got even more attention for not wearing a coat when it was so cold. That burn made me feel like I was on fire.  Had I fallen on the ice, I could have melted all the snow on the ground.  It was miserable.  In fact, that is the extent of my memories from that dance.  I'm typically pretty good at recalling details, but aside from the big facts (who my date was, the style of the dress, and the burn), I have managed to block it all out; or, perhaps my memories were just singed off my brain by the heat of that burn.

Fortunately, I never got back in a tanning bed again.  Sometimes it takes a severe burn from light bulbs to convince someone that they will never, ever be tan.  Ever.

Did the Polar Vortex prompt you to remember what you were doing twenty years ago?

Brrr...

I learned a new term today: Polar Vortex.  Apparently, it can best be defined as this: a rare force of nature which brings frigid temperatures, school cancellations, and many reasons for parents to beat their heads up against a wall (like we need more of those, right?).

It's barely 7pm, and I just sent the kids to bed.  I'm done, they are done, we all are frazzled and cranky because we are STILL not back to our "normal" schedule.

In the midst of this crazy cold weather, I do realize that we are fortunate enough to have a warm home, stocked kitchen, and lots of activities to do; for these I am very grateful.  I've tried all day to keep that a focus, and to think of all of those who can not be thankful for any of these, in order to keep the negative if-my-kids-don't-stop-fighting-for-two-seconds-I'm-going-to-run-away-and-join-the-circus thoughts at bay.  Instead of orchestrating grand activities that can be very overwhelming for the kids ("Hey, let's make instruments and have a parade and then make ice cream out of the little bit of snow we have in the backyard, but only after we blow bubbles out the back door and watch them freeze!"), I just kind of sat back and let them do their own thing.  They made up a play, they practiced math and spelling on the computer, they looked at their books, and built cool Lego cars.

But now, we are over it (see above).  And because school has already been canceled, we get to do it all over again tomorrow.  Joy!

Seriously, though, I will continue to be grateful for our warm shelter and full tummies, and to pray for those who may have trouble finding either, or both, of those things (and not just now, during extreme weather circumstances, but always).  Hopefully, our power will not go out (knock on wood, as I'm seeing reports via Facebook that nearby neighborhoods have been losing power throughout the day), and we can drive each other bananas tomorrow and look forward to the return of school on Wednesday.

I will now return to my blanket cocoon on the couch.

Overtime

Well, another day off tomorrow.  I have mixed feelings.

The kids were finished at school for holiday break on December 19th...16 days ago, if you're counting.  We've kept busy, with the holidays, trips to see movies, visits with family and friends.  But it's been 16 days.  The kids miss their routines, and their friends.  I miss having at least two hours, Tuesdays through Fridays, where I can just go be "Jen" for a while.  Before last night, I had not left the house without a kid since break started...16 days ago.

Don't get me wrong; I love my children, to the moon and back, and I know that they love me, too.  After a long break in their schedule, though, we drive each other crazy.  They need the time away from me and the house just as much as I need a break.  They need to exercise their independence, and I need to decompress.

So, imagine my concern late last week when reports of a big snow storm started rolling down my Facebook newsfeed.  I wasn't as worried about impending snow (as storm tracks change, and often manage to not land on us) as I was about the bone chilling temperatures that were to follow.  I knew right then that we wouldn't be closed for snow, but chances were probably pretty good that we wouldn't have school due to super cold temperatures and wind chills.  A "snow day" means that holiday break would be extended.  I was torn.

At least one more day cooped up in the house with the kids (as Alex does not do well in cold temps, so there is no way I'm planning an outing!), which means they will continue to climb the walls.  On one hand, we get to put off the battles of post-break transitions for one more day; on the other hand, I now get to deal with more shenanigans from the kids.

More unintended mischief like the activity I just caught Alex doing in the kitchen, right now as I type.  I was trying to decide what to blog today, and Alex was calling to me from the kitchen about "bubbles".  I heard the water running, and figured he was filling the sink with dish soap bubbles.  A mess, sure, but it was keeping him busy and he was giggling and enjoying himself.  It wasn't until he started toward me with our fish, Bubbles, in his hand, that I realized the running water meant that he was trying to clean the little tank in which Bubbles lives (er, lived?  Perhaps too soon to tell...I think the poor fish is in shock...).  He meant the fish no harm, but really?  Really?!?

Or, maybe more fun like the stunt Andrew pulled today at church.  Communion is always served on the first Sunday of the month, and I love Communion service because it is so peaceful and lovely.  After everyone is served, the congregation joins hands, the lights are low, and everyone sings the Lord's Prayer.  As the song comes to an end, the lights come back up in the church...powerful, right?  Well, it usually is, but today Andrew decided that licking my hand was a good idea.  So there I am, trying to enjoy a typically serene moment, while my kid is licking me and cackling because I'm trying to discreetly pull my hand away.  Ugh.

But, I'm sure we'll be fine tomorrow.  We'll find something to do.  Maybe we'll bake some cookies, play some board games.  Perhaps we'll have a funeral for a fish.  We'll see what the day brings.  Let's just cross our fingers that after Tuesday (because the cold snap doesn't sound like it will be a quick one...), "snow days" will be few and far between.

Did I mention they will have been out of school for 16  17 days?!?

The View from the Corner Table

Ah, the weekend.  A restful break from the trials of the Monday-Friday schedules; time to relax, catch up, and renew your spirit.

Unless you live in my house.

Weekends are typically pretty chaotic, with little rest and renewal.  My husband usually works part of Saturday, then we attend to whatever the kids have on their schedules, then it's family dinner time and we're in bed by 8pm.  I stay up to watch tv or read (ok, fine, to play Words with Friends and Candy Crush, whatever), but that happens most nights because I'm just trying to cope with Mark's snoring.  Sundays bring church, then the rest of the day is spent preparing for the week ahead (homework with the kids, laundry, blah, blah, blah).

Not terribly stressful (unless the kids are fighting, or having rough days), but certainly not like the days before kids when we could spend Saturday afternoons shopping, then go out for several hours on Saturday night, and then repeat that routine again on Sunday.  I suppose we could, but seriously, we're just too tired.  Plus, when you add up the cost of babysitters, dinners, drinks, movies...who can afford to do it twice a week?  

So, we settle for the mundane weekends and look forward to the occasional night out.  Tonight happened to be one of those lovely evenings.

With my parents in town, we can occasionally ask them to take the kids for a few hours.  Add that to the generous gift card that my husband received from his employees to a local restaurant, and something magical and rare happens: the FREE date night.  No child care costs, the dinner tab has been paid.  Sign. Me. Up.  Once I realized that we could pull this off tonight, I put the plan in action.

The kids were thrilled to spend an evening with their grandparents (and two of the three are sleeping over there, bonus!), so we dropped them off a bit early so we could run some errands in peace.  Then we went to restaurant, and because we arrived shortly before the big dinner crowd, we were seated right away.

We were placed in a nice, cozy corner of the restaurant, where I could sit and look out at the other tables.  A dinner without the kids AND people watching?  Yes, please.  Not long after we sat down, a family was seated next to us.  I saw the two young children approaching their table, and I'll admit it, I inwardly groaned at the thought of losing my quiet evening out.  Let's face it, most children can be noisy.  My children are very noisy.  I always cringe when we have to sit down next to other diners, because you can actually hear people think negative thoughts when they see children in restaurants.  I would never say anything, because unlike others, I completely understand that kids can get antsy when you tell them to sit quietly in a new place for longer than five minutes.  I may not like it, but I get it, and I deal with it.  So, tonight, I was mentally preparing myself for a not-so-cozy dining experience, when I heard one of the nearby kiddos order their drink: "May I please have a lemonade?  Thank you!"  Manners...without prompting!  My kids have pretty good manners (I insist on it), but I do sometimes have to prompt them, especially in restaurants, because they are nervous about ordering (I mean, I can see where it would be awkward, being made to talk to a stranger just so you can have some chocolate milk...).  The kids at the table next to us were rock stars through the whole meal; no raising of their voices, no constant trips to the restrooms, no fighting over electronics while they waited for their food.  It was nice. After I realized that these children were cool, I could relax again.

That family was in and out of that restaurant fairly quickly (and didn't leave without the kids thanking their server...maybe they were actually robot children...), and soon another party was brought to that table.  This time, a pair that seemed to be father and son.  The son seemed to have a developmental disability, although I couldn't tell what (and it didn't matter; it was simply an observation, one I'm prone to make as the mother of a child with Down syndrome), and he looked very excited to be dining out.  As the father was settling in, he looked up to see me watching them with a smile (as I was reminded of my Alex, who loves eating out in restaurants), and gave me a weary smile in return.  I know that expression, all too well.  The "yeah, my kid is different, I know" smile.  The brief look of concern at having someone watching them.  I've totally been there.  We get stared at all the time.  I see people watching us, sometimes with looks of irritation when Alex is not behaving well.  It only takes one negative experience like that to master that fake, tired smile.  That lightening fast acknowledgment and silent warning to strangers to keep their opinions to themselves comes naturally now, and I could see in that father's expression that they have experienced it too.  I wish I could have silently let him know that I understood, that he's not alone in those feelings; I could have easily conveyed that had Alex been at the table with us (but, let's face it, I probably would have been too busy shuttling kids to and from the bathroom to even notice the people around us).  Instead, I focused on my dessert selection, but not without stealing glimpses of the duo next to us (this kiddo had excellent manners, too!).

Our quiet dinner came to an end all too soon, and we had to go back into the cold and return to reality.  These times are rare for us, and we enjoyed every second.  We'll resume our boring weekend regimen now, and get ready for the week ahead.

But not before I catch up on my words and crushing of the candy...

Happy Birthday to Me!

It's my birthday and I'll blog if I want to...ok, enough of that.

Today is indeed my birthday, a day I enjoy and look forward to every year.  Why?  Because when birthdays stop, that becomes a problem.  Right?  Right.  So, as much as I don't enjoy the extra gray hairs and wrinkles that aging brings (although you have to look closely to see any of that, thanks to my hair stylist and my fantastic AVON products!), I still celebrate my special day.

Social media has brought a fun new aspect to birthdays.  I woke up this morning to no less than 20 Facebook messages, and that number has exploded throughout the day to over 100.  So fun!  Each and every message has brought a smile to my face.  I've also received tweets, texts, and phone calls.  Truthfully, I am very grateful to everyone who has taken even just a few seconds to wish me a happy day.

This year, my day (or, Jenapalooza!) has some competition.  My kids have been out of school for two full weeks now, and we are all driving each other crazy.  Our beloved football team, THE Ohio State Buckeyes, play in the Orange Bowl tonight.  And, apparently there is some crazy weather taking aim at us (which, to my horror, could end up in snow days and an even longer holiday break).  But, I will still eat pizza and ice cream cake and bask in the knowledge that I have a few more hours to celebrate.

What do you think of birthdays?  Cause to celebrate, or time to fret?

The Story of Maisey

Miss Maisephine Lucille...aka Maisey Lou 

I am a cat person.  Always have been, and maybe always will be.  It took Mark's terrible allergies to cats, and my daughter's wish for a pet she could snuggle, to lead me to consider adding a dog to our family.  

Back in September, we were out enjoying a Saturday as a family: lunch, errands, and an eventual stop at a local pet store to buy a fish.  It was time, we had just suddenly decided, to get a pet for the kids.  It would teach them responsibility, we thought, and certainly they would love having a little swimming pet!  The only downfall to that plan was, of course, all the other animals in that pet store.  Addie fell in absolute love with a snuggly kitten, but as we had already discussed, cats were out of the question because of Daddy's allergies.  It didn't stop her from loving on that cat, though, and the cat loved her right back.  After maybe 20 minutes of cuddles, I finally convinced her to put the cat down and look for a fish.  Alas, the next best thing to a cat caught her eye: a fluffy white puppy.  The sales person offered to let her play with the dog, and we agreed because Ad looked so hopeful and we had already dashed her dreams of owning a kitten.  Before the puppy was brought out to us, though, we explained to Addie that we would never buy a dog from a pet store because there are just so many dogs waiting to be rescued from shelters.  She seemed ok with that disclaimer, and happily played with the puppy.  Finally, after what felt like forever, we redirected the kids, once again, to the fish.  The poor fish seemed very lackluster after playing with such fluffy cuteness, but I suppose a fish was better than no pet at all, so soon we headed home with a new betta fish.  Bubbles would love its new home with us!  Right?  Sure.

Within an hour of having Bubbles in our house, Ad seemed very sullen.  She began explaining how a fish wasn't a good pet for her because she couldn't snuggle it.  A very valid point, indeed, but were we really ready for a dog?  A puppy, no less?  Addie assured us that she would help take care of a dog, and did such a nice job convincing us that we began looking at rescue websites.

The next morning, I noticed that a pet fair was to be held that afternoon, so Addie and I decided to check it out while the boys watched football.  I reminded her that the point of our outing was to familiarize ourselves with local rescue organizations, and not to bring home a dog. She cheerfully agreed; I think she may have already realized that we were heading down the road to adopting a dog.  

We wandered about the pet fair, admiring dogs from a distance, until one in particular caught her eye.  Ad walked over to a cute beagle-looking pup, got down on her knees, and the pup came over and rested her head on Ad's leg.  That was the moment that Ad fell in love with Maisey.

Ad meets Maisey

After speaking with the lovely volunteers from The Canine Collective (www.caninecollective.org), we snapped a quick picture to show the boys and then headed home.  Ad was convinced that Maisey was our dog, so after a brief discussion we decided to go ahead and submit an application.

Within days, our application was approved and I received a message asking when I wanted to pick Maisey up for our trial visit.  The kids were elated.  I was happy that they were so excited.  Mark was excited, too, as he has wanted a dog for a long time.  I was admittedly nervous, having never owned a dog before, but Maisey was just so sweet at the pet fair, and we would have the opportunity during the trial visit to make sure we would all be happy together.  

It only took a few hours to realize that Maisey had found her forever home in our home.  The kids adored her from the beginning, and the pup just seemed to fit right into our chaotic little world.  

Who was happier?  Hard to say!

Later that week, we officially adopted Maisey, and although we've had our adjustments (both sides...for us, teaching the kids to be good pet parents, and for Maisey, learning that it's not ok to eat people food...she does not appreciate her diet!), it's been great.  For our kiddo with Down syndrome, Maisey is a fantastic motivator; for example, "Al, Maisey would really like to hear you read that book" works way better than "Al, you need to practice your reading". This is a definite bonus!  Although the kids tend to love on her more than they probably should (this dog is not lacking for attention!), she is very patient and seems to be ok with being allowed to nap on the couch as a trade off.  

As I've learned before (again, and again...and again!), sometimes life just doesn't go as planned.  In this case, what started off as an adventure to choose a pet fish led to a journey of turning a cat person into something of a dog person.  

Who knew?