When Mama Bears Grocery Shop

Grocery shopping is bad enough. Grocery shopping on a Sunday afternoon is even worse. Grocery shopping on a Sunday afternoon with a kid in tow is no fun at all.

But, sometimes it's a necessary evil. I had to get the shopping done today, and I had to take a kid with me. So off we went, list in hand so it could be a quick, in-and-out trip. Of course, it never quite works out that way, does it?

About 10 minutes into our shopping, my son announced that he needed to use the bathroom. I immediately felt a tug of panic; I despise public restrooms, and I am especially weary of sending my sons in to the bathroom on their own. I don't trust strangers in restrooms; I just don't. But, I know this kid, and when he says he has to go, he means it. So we headed to the bathrooms near the store's cafe, as I knew that there are single stall bathrooms with locking doors. It was the safest scenario.

This particular grocery store has a bar in their cafe, and it was fairly busy for a Sunday afternoon. I helped my son navigate his way through the crowd, watched until I heard the door lock, and then I backed off a bit. It's tricky to handle these situations sometimes; my son has Down syndrome, but he is also a teenager, and he needs to experience these things on his own. Someday, he'll do them without me, so if nothing else, I thought it would be a good learning experience. I retreated toward the back of the cafe, where I could see the door of the restroom and keep tabs on anyone else in the area (I don't trust strangers, remember?).

After several minutes, I became uneasy. I wanted to get the shopping done, and I was tired of waiting. I went back to make sure my son was ok. After knocking on the door, and discovering that he was fine and just taking forever, I stepped back a few feet and continued to wait for him. A few minutes later, a bar patron came marching back toward the bathroom, pounded on the door of the bathroom where my son was, and yelled "What are you doing?! Jackin' off??"

It was then that I felt that hot flash of fury that mothers often feel when someone messes with their kids.

I stepped forward, ready to punch him, but somehow restrained myself enough to inform him that my kid with disabilities was in there, and would need another moment. I could smell the alcohol on him; he had clearly had too much to drink. I'm guessing he thought his buddy was the one in the restroom, but is that really an excuse to use that type of language, in a grocery store?! He quickly retreated, and I tried to calm myself as I continued to wait for my son. I knew I would have to pass him when we finally left the restroom area, but would I be able to keep myself from making a scene? I mean, even if he didn't mean to do it, he had still verbally assaulted my kid, and probably scared him to death by pounding on the door.

Fortunately, when my son came out of the bathroom, that particular patron had left the bar area. Perhaps my mama bear reaction scared him away? Hopefully someone was there to drive him safely home.

We were able to finish our shopping, although I didn't get everything on my list. We both just wanted to get out of there. My son is trying to get over a cold, and I think the excursion exhausted him. After arriving home, I immediately completed the survey on my receipt to inform the grocery store's corporate office of the incident. I also suggested that they take the opportunity to review with their bartenders the protocol for not serving people who are clearly intoxicated.

I had hoped that this would be a good learning experience for my son (navigating a crowd on his own). Instead, it was a learning experience for me, and further confirmed my feelings that some people just aren't to be trusted...and that grocery shopping pretty much sucks, no matter what.

Next week, someone remind me to set up an online order for my groceries...

Sideline Advocacy

As many parents do on an autumn Saturday morning, I headed to the soccer field to watch my youngest son compete in a match. It was early, chilly, and clear from the very beginning of the game that the competition was tough. Not having extensive knowledge of the game, I typically try to restrict my sideline banter to "Go Knights," or "Way to hustle," or sometimes even "Good job, keeper!"

This game was no different for me, although other parents (from both teams) had plenty to say. Several parents thought that the ref wasn't fairly calling the game, and that seemed to lead to an escalation in sideline tensions. I eventually stood up, forgoing my uncomfortable perch on a flimsy foldable chair in favor of pacing a bit as we watched the boys run up and down the field.

At one point, a boy from each team collided, but the play continued as the ref apparently just didn't realize that there were possible injuries. The sideline erupted with frustrated calls from parents. I hate seeing kids get hurt during games, so I was focused on the field, willing each player to get up and hoping they weren't seriously injured.

Then, the lady next to me called out, perhaps to the ref "How do you just keep running past them? That is so retarded!"

The tension of the game got to me, and I immediately snapped "Hey! That word is not ok!"

She and the woman sitting next to her looked at me, surprised. I was immediately disappointed in my approach, as my words had come off with an edge that I had not intended. But, in the heat of that moment, it was definitely there. I tried again: "Look, I know you're upset, but that is not an appropriate word to use."

The lady sitting next to her came to her defense: "She didn't mean it that way. She doesn't know."

I attempted a smile. "Ok, well, now we know. It's inappropriate. I'm a parent of a child with a disability, and it's not ok to say that."

The lady shot back, "NO, you're just perceiving it the wrong way."

At that point, I stopped. I could have gone on, but I knew that I was just really angry and anything else I would say would make the matter worse. I was seething, though. Yeah, calling her out like that was perhaps not the best approach, but turning it around and trying to make it my problem? Like she had a good reason for using that word that I was just not willing to consider? No. Not cool. She remained fairly quiet through the rest of the match, but at the end of the game (after a full-on parent sideline meltdown, from parents of both teams, which I didn't participate in and was disheartened by), she turned to the parents on our team and loudly declared "All y'all's just rude."

That's the thing with advocacy: it can come off in a rude manner, especially if you find yourself on the other end of it. It can be uncomfortable, and it's not always easy. However, the need for a change generally doesn't come from a place of comfort. While I didn't deliver my message as eloquently as I would like, I still got the word out, loud and clear. Hopefully they truly heard me, and maybe they went home and realized my intentions. We all need to do the hard work to create a kinder, more inclusive place for our kids, and for each other.

Here's hoping that the next soccer match isn't quite as eventful.

It's Time to Do the Hard Work

The days following a national tragedy are often full of suggestions on how exactly we should remedy whatever caused the incident. All too often, we're debating how to address the issue of mass shootings in our country. Clearly, it's an issue, and there are several factors that are frequently offered as the culprit. In the days following the Parkland shooting, I've heard many theories tossed around and I've seen many social media posts which insist that the problem at hand can be solved by addressing one issue or another. Gun control, services for mental illness, social media, and bad parenting have each been touted as the ONE SINGLE ISSUE that needs to be addressed in order to fix this horrible epidemic in our country. Many debates and arguments have followed, and insults often accompany these conversations.

Those who argue that stricter gun control is the solution are torn down by people who say that mental illness is the cause and that guns have nothing to do with the issue. Those people are then ridiculed by others who blame social media for hyping the issues and bringing too much negative attention to the table, but those theories are tossed aside by people who insist that the lack of strong parenting is the underlying factor to all of this violence.

WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE JUST ONE ISSUE OR ANOTHER??

Seriously, I don't understand this, not at all. Before anything can really be accomplished, we need to admit that there is more than one issue at play, and call on our elected officials to address whatever it is that we feel is the best starting point. For me, that's stricter gun control. It should not be as easy as it currently is to obtain a gun and enough ammunition to shoot up a school. It just shouldn't. If you're a responsible gun owner, I don't understand why the idea of stricter laws bothers you. And the "bad guys will always find a way to get guns" argument is tired and weak. People don't always wear their seat belts, and they certainly don't always drive the speed limit, but we still have laws for those things. Should we just not have any laws? I promise you that there will always be people who break them. But, if stricter gun control prevents even one more senseless death, then I'm all for it.

For those who argue that better mental health services are necessary to curb the gun violence incidents, I understand your argument and I agree that yes, there should be more assistance available for those who are struggling. But how does that not go hand in hand with stricter gun control when we're talking about reducing the occurrence of mass shootings in this country? Further, I would argue that gun violence is not an automatic result of mental illness, and to perpetuate that belief is dangerous and uninformed.

If you believe that social media is fueling the fire and causing more gun violence, then I invite you to step away from your screen and stop engaging in all the online debates. Social media can be a really ugly place, but that's because of the people who make it that way. There are many advantages to having a strong online social network, but you have to be aware and carefully maintain those relationships. Social media is not the root cause of all the violence. It may contribute, but mass shootings were happening well before billions of people started sharing cat memes on Facebook.

Parent shaming makes me really sad. Should we be involved parents? Absolutely. I believe that most of us try to do just that. I am a major proponent of teaching children to be respectful, modest, and kind. I try to do that with my children; if I instill nothing else, I hope they all understand how important those three things are. I hope that others share that philosophy, but I don't dare think that shaming people into being better parents will magically end gun violence. It may make kids more pleasant to be around when they aren't being supervised in public (teenagers in malls and restaurants without your parents, I'm looking at you...), but it won't end gun violence. Let's figure out a way for parents to be more involved in our kids' schools, from grade school all the way through high school. I'm shocked by how many people dismiss the idea of parent organizations at the high school level, yet complain that other parents don't know what their kids are experiencing. It just doesn't make sense to me.

While I obviously see a hierarchy of issues here, I truly believe that this is indeed a multifaceted issue, and by insisting that we only address one issue or another, we are doing a disservice to every single person affected by these tragedies. If we only address one thing at a time, we'll get no where. If we consider each of these things (and probably other elements that I haven't listed) at the same time, and acknowledge that there is a LOT of work to do, AND be willing to do some of that work, just imagine the change we can bring to our country.

We must take the lead of the high school students in Florida who have chosen to use their grief as a way to advocate for change. Call, write, email, and tweet at your elected officials. All of them: national, state, and local. If you want more gun laws and more mental health services, make that known. Stronger parenting, on its own, may not end gun violence but it would make our society a better place, engage in that and be an example. This is how we'll make a difference. It won't happen solely by debating strangers on Facebook, but if we perform our civic duties and make our voices heard, we can do some of the hard work that must be done.

Yeah, I'm Asking a Lot

We want our son included.

We want him to have the independence he craves.

We want support to make that inclusion and independence possible.

We want those in supporting roles to not restrict his abilities.


We realize that all of this is a challenge.
We want it done anyway.


We want our community to acknowledge Down syndrome and the individuals experiencing it.

We want all of this done with reverence and consideration.

We appreciate hearing that improvements need to be made when it comes to awareness, acceptance, and respect for those with Down syndrome.

We are frustrated to see that proverbial ball dropped time and time again.


We realize that all of this is a challenge.
We want it done anyway.


We want to be heard without arguments or tired excuses.

We want to be partners, and not ruffle feathers.

We will continue to work, and work, and work.

We will persist, because he is worth it.


We realize that all of this is a challenge.
We want it done anyway.

Nevertheless, He Persisted

Alex, after watching videos of a new Cars inspired race track on YouTube, is convinced that he has to have said track RIGHT THIS MINUTE. He received an Amazon gift card for his birthday, so we looked up the toy to see if he could order it.

The track costs $100.

He was understandably disappointed, but I wasn't about to cough up the $75 needed to complete the purchase. I took the opportunity to stress the importance of doing his chores to earn his allowance, which he could save up for the track.

He wasn't interested. He wants that track NOW.

After I concluded my lesson, he stormed off, and I figured he would stew in his room but soon forget about the track. I was wrong. Instead, he marched up to me with his box of coins, proudly presenting them and asking that I place the order.

I counted $2.50 in quarters, and explained that he still wouldn't have enough to buy the track. He wasn't giving up that easily, though. He spent the next five minutes trying to change my mind, hoping that I would just buy it for him.

"C'mon. You'll be the best mother ever!"

"Count it again. I don't trust you."

"Will you please just get me it??"

"RUDE." With that, he stormed away.

I continued with my work, but heard change rustling downstairs. A few minutes later, Alex returned with more coins in his box. This time, I counted $2.72, and reminded him that he can't just take coins out of my change bowl.

He didn't listen (he's nothing if he's not persistent!), and returned several more times. The last time, he presented $3.37, and an old bobby pin.

"Alex, you have to do your chores and save up to buy the things you want. Mom won't just buy whatever you want, when you want it. Enough!"

He sulked away, recognizing his defeat, and settled in to watch an episode of his favorite show on Netflix. I bookmarked the race track on Amazon so I would remember which one he wants. Santa will need ideas soon enough, right?

What I've Learned in My First 13 Years As a Parent

My oldest son Alex recently celebrated his 13th birthday. Thirteen! Now officially a teenager, we've opened a new chapter in that non-existent parenting guide that we all think we should have.  To commemorate our entrance into the teen years, here are 13 things I've learned in my first 13 years of parenting:

1. There are few guarantees in life. 

After Alex was born and I was released from the hospital to visit him in the NICU at a different hospital, I was given time alone at his bedside to bond. I almost immediately became overwhelmed with sadness. I felt sorry for him and for us, envisioning what I thought his future would be: no prom, no driving, no college graduation...all because of his Down syndrome diagnosis and the misinformation I had received. Then, it sharply occurred to me that there are no guarantees in life. None. It is what we make of it. And with that, I became an advocate. We've learned the importance of flexibility and celebrating every little milestone. It's my goal to help him achieve whatever it is that he wants to do. He'll get there, eventually, with the proper support and encouragement. That is something I will guarantee.


2. I am an excellent hoop-jumper.

From the time that Alex was just months old, and for now and probably forever, I've been jumping through hoops to get what Alex needs. I've learned that an initial "no" does not always remain a "no". To get it to a "yes", though, sometimes requires jumping through endless hoops. Fortunately for Alex, his mother is pretty stubborn, and someday I do expect to earn a gold medal in Hoop Jumping from the Disability Parenting Hall of Fame. (If not that, then perhaps a bronze in Sarcastic Blogging?)


3. I will make mistakes, I will stumble, I will lose, but I will never give up.

I'm constantly learning how to be a better parent for all three of my kids. Parenting Alex, so far anyway, has proven to be the most challenging. Fortunately, we have a lot of support and resources to help us along the way. That said, I am far from perfect, and I will screw up along the way. It has happened, and will happen again. The most important lesson I can take from that is to not give up.


4. The opportunities to educate others are endless.

Not many people know a lot about Down syndrome, or the disability community in general. I didn't, before Alex was born. I will ashamedly admit that I was an ignorant user of the "r-word", and I wish that someone had called me out. I should have known better, but I didn't, and I contributed to the problem. There are so many opportunities to teach our peers about Down syndrome and inclusion, and while finding the best technique to do so is tricky, it's worth it in the end.


5. Finding your tribe is important.

Parenting takes up a lot of time, and often, we find ourselves distanced from our friends just because there aren't enough hours in the day. This is especially difficult for parents in the disability community, as we endure extra challenges on a daily basis. Having someone, or even a group of people, who truly understand why it takes four days to return a text, are supportive when you have to cancel plans at the last minute, and who don't judge you when you look like a zombie more often than not are so important to have in your corner. If you have a tribe, be thankful. If you can bring someone into your tribe, do it. We need each other.


6. Introverts make pretty good advocates.

I am an introvert: I do not like confrontations, speaking in front of people, or being the center of attention. I've learned, though, that when I do have to do any of these things, I can handle it. I never thought I would have to speak up the way I have, and I know I have a lot to learn, but I'm proud of the advocate I'm becoming.


7. Not everyone advocates the same way, and that's ok.

Just like we all have different parenting styles, parents in the disability community have different advocacy styles. I often feel like I'm falling short as an advocate, and catch myself comparing my actions and philosophies against others'. We are the experts on our own kids, though, and we're just trying to do the best we can. I am trying to remember that as I continue to learn the best ways to advocate for my son.

8. Siblings are awesome.

Alex is lucky to have two younger siblings, both of whom are becoming terrific advocates for their brother. I am always impressed to hear them stand up for their brother when he's not being included, and they are confident enough to do this without prompting. While it's not always easy being the sibling of someone with disabilities, they do know the importance of advocacy and inclusion. They are both amazing kids, and I am very proud of them.

9. Nothing is as picture-perfect as it seems.

With social media being such a driving force in our daily lives, it's difficult to avoid feeling the pressure of presenting the "perfect family". While I'll be the first to tell you that my household is a hot mess, I feel bad that my photos and posts on social media give an illusion that everything is sunshine and unicorns. That is just not true. Each day brings many challenges, and I'm just trying to get through it all with a little humor and grace.

10. Kids are gross.

This has nothing to do with disability parenting; it's just a fact. If I never find a booger smeared on a window again, I would be a happy lady.

11. Rest is important, and that is annoying.

Caregiver fatigue is a real thing. Parents of kids with disabilities are often running on high levels of stress and exhaustion. I can't tell you how many times, in the last 13 years, that I've been encouraged to "relax" or "just breathe". Sorry, but it doesn't work like that. Even if I had the time, I don't have the staff to cover all of the daily responsibilities, which would allow me the relaxation I deserve. Although he is 13 years old and is growing to be more independent each day, I still can't leave Alex unattended as I would a typical 13 year old. It is what it is. That said, I can always tell when I'm ready to hit a wall. Aside from the obvious crankiness and exhaustion, I will earn myself a nice migraine when I'm not careful to take a break. This is also something I need to work on: more breaks, and not feeling guilty for taking them.

12. The laundry will never be done, so don't even try.

I'm constantly trying to conquer Mount Washmore, and it just never gets any smaller. At this point, as long as everyone has clean underwear for the next day, I consider it a success.

13. Being a mom is by far the best thing I have done in my life.

As frustrating and exhausting as it may be, there is always a joyous moment in my day. I wouldn't trade being my kids' mom for anything, not even for someone who could contain Mount Washmore. And that says a lot.


As my kids continue to learn and grow, I will do the same as a parent. They are teaching me far more than I could ever teach them. Here's to the next 13 years!

Happy birthday, dear Alex!

Advocacy Doesn't Get a Holiday

When one of your children has disabilities, holidays may not always resemble the traditional celebrations that others enjoy. Independence Day, with all its patriotic fanfare, can be an absolute nightmare for a child with sensory sensitivities (and also for their families). 

For several years, my family has not attended community fireworks displays because the crowds and sounds have just been too much for my son. We have also spent time apart on the holiday so that I could take the younger kids to the parade. This year, we decided to try to spend the holiday together. We decided to watch a local fireworks display at an off-site location, one that was just far away enough to see everything but with a fraction of the noise. We also took a big leap of faith and attended a parade as a family. This was an even bigger deal, because my son tends to associate parades with sirens (as the police cars and fire trucks participate in the parade, and those sirens are just too much for him), but we figured we should give it a try this year. Although he struggled at the beginning of both of these events, he was eventually able to relax and enjoy them, and now even uses words like "awesome" and "best ever" to describe them. That is a major milestone for us!

While we found a way to celebrate the holiday this year, we are still dealing with sensory issues in our own home. Neighbors who choose to terrorize the most vulnerable residents of our community with their illegal fireworks, in order to satisfy their pyromaniac tendencies, make a challenging holiday exponentially worse for families like mine. Last week, after many rounds of pro-firework vs anti-firework posts on our neighborhood Facebook page, it was suggested that we confront neighbors who choose to ignore the laws regarding fireworks, rather than posting passive aggressive complaints online. Last night, I found myself in that situation. I was angry because my kid (and dog!) were terrified, and I decided to address it directly rather than post in the Facebook group and inevitably cause another battle. When I approached a group of neighbors to inquire how much longer their obnoxious antics (which took place one block from my house, sounded way louder than the community display we watched, and caused mass hysteria) would last, I was verbally attacked. They belligerently told me to "relax, it's the 4th of July," and "it's my right as a Vet to celebrate my freedom." When I explained that my son also has rights, the gentleman who described himself as a Vet called me an a**hole. There was absolutely no compassion, no apology, and no respect.  

I was shocked and upset. I wasn't trying to kill their fun; I was requesting that they observe the laws regarding fireworks. They could have celebrated at one of many fireworks displays around town. Their good time should not have superseded common courtesies. My responsibility is to my kids; if I can advocate for my son and raise awareness of a situation (as I know that others in our neighborhood are also struggling with the noisy amateur fireworks), then I will absolutely do it. No one deserves to feel unsafe in their own homes, and yes, that includes people with disabilities. 

Now more than ever, we need to be civil to one another. Acting in kindness would be ideal, but if that is too difficult, I implore you to at least be respectful. When you are stubbornly insisting that you have a right to engage in illegal behavior that is scaring children with disabilities, there is a major problem. If pointing that out to you makes me an "a**hole," then fine, yeah: I'm an a**hole. It's probably not the first time I've been called a name because I've stood up for my kid, and it probably won't be the last time, either.

Waiting for the July 4th parade to begin

In Defense of Caillou

These days, there is so much controversy on the internet. While I swore that I would not contribute to the nonsense, I just can't hold it back any longer. I've been holding this in for a long time, and I know you will probably have some pretty strong opinions about this, but I feel that I'm overdue in my confession.

I don't hate Caillou.

Parents disagree an many things; thanks to those moms' groups on Facebook, it's clear that there are no shortages when it comes to differences in opinion. One thing that I've found that most everyone agrees on, though, is their undying hatred of the whiny cartoon character, Caillou. I completely understand why parents don't like him; as cartoons go, his is quite annoying. But that animated preschooler has bought me too many much-needed breaks from parenting that I otherwise would not have had, so I feel I must defend him.

Before judging me as an unfit mother, allow me to explain. My oldest son has Down syndrome, and very much enjoys routines. When he was younger, he became quite attached to Caillou, and after seeing how long he sat and quietly enjoyed the show, I eagerly agreed to let him watch it. It was well worth listening to the 20 minutes of obnoxious Caillou lessons each day to be able to catch up on tasks around the house...or even just sit and zone out while my kid happily indulged in his favorite show.

Even now, at almost 13 years old, my son will occasionally veg out with Caillou. It's a comforting, familiar groove, and I'm not about to argue with him about it. Is the show still annoying? Absolutely! And, not only is the sound of his voice just as irritating, but it's also very difficult to find an outlet on which to watch Caillou (all you haters have done a good job in making him scarce!). But, I still need those breaks from special needs parenting that sometimes only a petulant, fictitious kid can provide, so I will always feel the need to defend his existence.

So, there you have it, my darkest secret. I am thankful for Caillou. This parenting gig can be so weird.

This represents 60 minutes of peace and quiet...

We're Listening

As a parent of a child with special needs, I can confidently say most special needs parents have a lot in common, regardless of their children's diagnoses. We are determined. We are strong (physically and mentally!). We are tired. We are amateur experts in several different types of therapies. We are eager to learn as much as we can in order to help our children succeed. Really, we are tired. We celebrate every milestone or accomplishment, no matter how small. We are frustrated because we have to continuously fight every stereotype there is relating to our child's diagnosis. We spend a lot of time driving our kids around from one service to another.

But while we're busy being or doing all of these things, we aren't so wrapped up in our lives that we don't notice things that may be going on around us. We hear you when you bad mouth children with special needs (yes, this happens). We see you when you glance at us with either sympathy (because we must be miserable, dealing with all of this) or disgust (surely there must be something else we can do for our children so that they aren't so awful, right?). We notice when you exchange looks with other parents when our children are having a difficult time (why would we expect our children to be treated as if they are "normal"??). We hear you when you say or write the r-word, and then watch you get defensive when you realize that we heard you (for the record, it's never ok to use that word, and yes, you should still use a different word even if you don't "mean it that way").

Guess what, though? None of your ridiculous behavior gives us pause to stop doing what we're doing for our children. In fact, this nonsense only motivates special needs parents to keep fighting, to continue to push not only our kids to be the best they can be, but to prove that the only thing that needs changing is your attitude towards people with disabilities.

And you know what else? Special needs parents also hear the words of encouragement, share in the smiles, and appreciate the inclusive actions from other parents, kids, teachers, coaches, people who live and work in our communities. These are the actions that overpower all of the negativity, that keep pushing the tired parents to keep going. Because while we know it's necessary, sometimes it's really hard to be "that parent", and that extra bit of support is really what we need to keep fighting.

We're listening. We hear the good, and especially the bad, because we are listening.

He's Faking It

Alex and the coveted basketball

Tonight, the boys and I headed over to the mall for dinner in the food court, as part of a school event. We had a relaxing meal with friends, then made our way to the book store for story time with the teachers. Both kids enjoyed their leisurely strolls up and down the aisles in the children's section of the store, eventually choosing a couple of titles to take home. (I mean, they were excited over books. BOOKS! And, it benefited the school. How could I say no to that?!? Well played, school.)

Once I finally convinced the boys that it was time to leave, we attempted to make an exit from the mall, but we were sucked into a new store. Mesmerized by the glowing basketball in the shiny new Dick's Sporting Goods sign, the kids made a beeline into the tidy rows of athletic wear. Alex declared that he was looking for a new basketball, and then told me I could buy it for him.

Enter teachable moment. Or so I thought...

After finding a ball he liked (a nice Under Armour basketball), Al started making his way to the check out. "Hang on there, dude. I am not buying a new basketball for you tonight. It's nice, but we'll have to get it another day. Let's put it back."

"Nope," came his quick reply. "I'll buy it with my own monies."

I sighed. Loudly. It had been a long day, and it wasn't over yet. "How about we tell Santa?", I almost-too-desperately called after him. He stopped. Score!!

"Yes. Let's take a picture and email it to Santa!" Alex was elated. I thought of the cute blog post I could whip up after the kids fell asleep tonight. Win win, right?

We snapped the photo, and I again asked him to put the ball away. "Nope. I gotta give it to a guy."

Here we go. I was just plain exasperated at this point. I was losing this battle. I figured I should just hear him out and let him give the stinking ball back to someone who worked there, and decided to chalk it up as an opportunity to practice social skills.

He marched right up to a sales associate, and no sooner than the guy said "Hey, buddy!" did Al hold that ball out and say "I want this for Christmas. Will you tell Santa?"

Up went my left eyebrow, and I frantically looked up at the sales guy. His reaction was going to make an important impression on Alex. Please don't blow this, Mr Sales Guy.

"I will tell Santa!! I will go call him right now!" The guy didn't miss a beat. Al beamed. I let out the breath that I didn't realize I was holding until then.

I suggested, for the third time, that Alex put the ball back on its shelf. As he triumphantly marched away, I looked at the sales guy and said "Thanks! I appreciate your response to him," and turned to watch Al make his way back towards me.

Later, after finally dragging them out of the mall, Alex and I were waiting while Andrew got his hair cut. Al was flipping through the photos on my phone, and stopped on the picture we had just taken earlier, with the basketball.

"How cool is it that the guy called Santa to tell him about this ball?!?" Apparently, I thought it was way cooler than Al did, because he quickly responded.

"Nah. He was faking it."

I let that statement fall flat, which took a lot of effort, because I guess I'm not ready for Alex to let go of Santa quite yet. It could easily happen at this point, for any of my kids, as they are all getting older. Too old, and too smart, for their own good.

Whether he truly still believes or not, I really do appreciate the sales guy (Tommy, at the Polaris store, if anyone local is wondering) for his quick thinking and cooperation. There aren't many that would have played along, but he did, and that was very cool.

And yes, I will go back for the ball, so that Santa really can leave it under our tree for Alex...

I Love You, Man

Every night around 7pm, it begins, without fail. Alex gets super affectionate and tells me "I love you, Mommy!" about every 12 minutes. He reminds me of a little drunk man; he will interrupt a conversation to tell me, or stop whatever he's doing to remind me. I can't help but giggle sometimes. 

It is super sweet, though, and I love hearing him say it. 

Resolutions

I was chatting with the kids about the new year, and asked them what goals they have for themselves in 2015. 

Alex eagerly told me that he doesn't want to have any more bathroom-related accidents. This is especially awesome because he came up with it on his own. 

Addie is determined to perfect her passé releve in ballet. With her dedication to dance, she will have no trouble achieving this. 

When it was Andrew's turn, I asked him the same question. "What is your goal for 2015?"

His excited response? "TO FLY! I WANT TO FLY!!"

After the giggles and a brief explanation of what we meant by "goal", he decided that tying his own shoes and riding a two-wheeler would be better things to work toward in the new year. 

What are your goals for 2015?

Respite

The kids were invited to sleep over at their grandparents' house; this is something they do fairly often, but it's always a treat for them. 

It's a treat for me, too, and a much needed break. I got to grocery shop by myself, run errands at the mall, get take out for dinner, take a bath (seriously, first leisurely bathing experience in ten years!), and now watch tv in peace. 

Truth be told, I miss them. But, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled chaos soon enough. Until then, I've got more turns on Soda Crush calling my name. 

Christmas 2014

We had a wonderful Christmas! The kids are thrilled with their gifts, and more importantly, we had a terrific time with our family. 

Andrew fell asleep on my lap last night for the first time in ages, and then I put my tired self to bed. (Hence, the late blog post.)

I have officially declared today Pajama Day, which will include playing new board games and eating all the remaining Christmas cookies. Oh, and perhaps finally finishing the holiday cards. As long as they're out by New Year, it will be ok, right? 

Visit with Santa

We took the kids to visit with Santa last week, and we somehow managed to get all three kids into the photo. Trust me, after waiting in line, that is no small feat! The kids shared with Santa some of the things they hope to find under our tree on Christmas morning, and it was really cute.

After paying an obnoxious amount of money for a photo with the big guy in the red suit, we let the kids browse through a nearby toy store. While they enjoyed shopping the store, it was probably kind of cruel to set them loose this close to Christmas. Obviously, we weren't about to buy them new toys (Hanukkah starts this week, too!), but they were allowed to look for quite a long time.

Alex somehow stumbled upon a toy gun that shoots out bright orange foam balls, and he fell in love with it. Because, of course. Guns are one toy that I discourage for my kids; I just don't like them to play with them (if you do allow it for your kids, that's great; but, I prefer not to, and that's great too). Alex was determined, though, to buy this particular toy. I explained to him, again, that we were not there to buy toys that night. He refused to leave the check out line, though, so we launched into one of our stand offs (where we have to wait in a particular place so I can out-stubborn him).

This kid has become quite clever, though. He finally conceded that I wasn't going to buy the gun, so he decided he would just take it out to Santa so he would know what to bring him. I then had to remind him that we can't leave stores with an item if we don't pay for it, and asked him for maybe the 23rd time to put it back on its shelf.

But, Alex had other ideas. Tilting his head, he explained to me that he would just leave the toy on the counter and ask the toy store lady to tell Santa about it. I kind of wanted to see this play out, so I agreed that this was a good plan.

He proudly marched up to the counter and when the lady asked him if he was ready to check out, he answered "No. This is for Santa to bring to me."

I was standing right behind him, and the lady's eyes met mine and I nodded. "Oh! Of course we can leave this for Santa! What is your name? I'll put it on the toy so he'll know which one you want."

Alex was thrilled. They continued chatting, the lady paying careful attention to what he said and seamlessly carrying on their conversation. She made him feel like such a hot shot; he turned to me, just beaming, when he was ready to leave. I thanked her as we left, hoping she realized how important this encounter truly was.

The next day, I returned to buy the toy gun, so that Santa can leave it under our tree with all the other cheerfully wrapped items.

While I was there, I asked who the lady was that helped Alex the previous night, and was told that it was the owner of the store. I plan to send her a note to thank her again for her kind service, but if you are local and still in need of some gifts for the holidays, please consider shopping her store.

It's moments like these that remind me that the holiday spirit really is all around us, if we are willing to see it.

Restoring the Holiday Spirit

The holidays: a busy time that is commonly accompanied by stress, chaos, and crankiness (that last one is typically caused by the other two). I am not immune to these; just this morning, I was running frantically from one errand to the next, determined to make the most of my "free time", which was just an hour and 28 minutes this morning.

Dealing with the stress and chaos of preparing for my family's holidays (Hanukkah and Christmas...our house is so festive this time of year!) definitely caused some crankiness for me this morning. I was tired of encountering rude people every where I went. I mean, seriously, would it kill people to smile and be pleasant to the tired cashier that is on the rough end of everyone's bad moods?

Anyway, by the time I headed over to the kids' school to volunteer at their Epcot Day event, I was in a fairly foul mood. In fact, I was so overwhelmed by the fact that I now have one week left before the kids are out of school (which means that my restricted free time will be completely nonexistent from 12/19-1/5...and that's a long time!), that I was ready to give in and let myself be taken over by the Grinchy, bah-humbug spirit that creeps in every now and then. But, I plastered on a smile and marched in to the school, ready to help out with this truly great event for the kids.

Each December, the PTO puts on Epcot Day, during which the kids learn about our global community through presentations, crafts, and activities representative of that year's countries. It is a huge undertaking, but the kids love it and it is really a great day. My job today was to help out at the Marketplace; each student is given two "dollars" to buy trinkets that cost one "dollar" each. There were several things from which to choose: pencils, erasers, keychains, worry dolls, nesting-type wooden dolls, ornaments, friendship bracelets. Every twenty minutes a new group of kids came through the gym, and the Marketplace was one of the activities.

I was amazed at how carefully the children shopped; each item was taken into careful consideration before a purchase was made. During my "shift", the older kids came through first and were a bit more decisive, and much quieter about their choices. But, when the younger kids started to trickle through the gym, the process started to take a bit longer. I soon realized why that was so, as the younger kids were more willing to chat about their purchases.

One little boy chose an ornament, handed me his "dollar" and said "My mom will love this!" Another boy picked out a ring (made of tightly rolled paper, maybe?), and told me that it was for his mom, and that he would have to be careful to hide it from her so she wouldn't find it before Christmas. One of my youngest son's friends selected a little wooden doll, explaining that he chose it for his sister. Many dads will be the recipients of key chains and pencils, while grandmothers will receive handwritten notes on postcards chosen by their grandchildren.

I was blown away. These kids were given this "money", with no expectations except that they could only choose two things from the Marketplace. They could have easily selected two souvenirs for themselves, but so many of them were thinking of others they could gift these trinkets to on Christmas morning. It was heartwarming, and definitely restored my holiday spirit on a day when I really needed it.

Grinchy attitudes, be gone. These young people need to have better examples to look up to so that their beautiful little holiday hearts won't be crushed as they get older.

Random Thoughts

Holiday exhaustion is setting in. Here is just a snap shot into my thoughts this evening...

*Wow, the house is truly blown up. 

*Gotta get those holiday cards out. 

*Why do they start the Christmas shows at 8pm?!? So much for their 8pm bedtime.

*What on earth am I going to write about for the rest of this year?

*What day is it again?

*I wonder if I am really finished shopping. I feel like I am forgetting something. 

*There must be an easy cookie I could bake, that I don't like, so I won't eat them all. 

*Eating three cookies before bed was a bad idea. 

*Don't forget the elf, don't forget the elf, don't forget the elf...

Love Bug

Alex can be very difficult. He will readily tell you that he is stubborn; once he has his mind set on something, especially something that doesn't agree with what we want him to do/think/say, he will rarely change his mind. It can be exhausting.

But, he does have his moments.

Each evening, as he gets sleepier and sleepier, he will spontaneously hug me and say "I love you, Mommy" (only, because we are still working on his "l" sounds, it comes out "I yuv you, Mommy".

Too. Stinking. Cute.

Tonight, after dinner, he finished first and proclaimed the meal "the best dinner EVER!" He started to leave the table, but stopped, and came back. "Oops! I forgot something! Guess what I forgot? I forgot to give you a HUG!" Then, I got a big hug and an emphatic "I love you, Mommy."

This kid. It's amazing how all the difficult moments are pushed aside when he does something like this.

Alex Quotes

I have a headache. Stress or sinus; not sure which. All I want to do is sleep, but that is still a couple hours away if I want to accomplish anything tonight. 

As I was sitting down for a moment, Al came and plopped down next to me. Soon after, I noticed a strong, unpleasant odor. Al looked at me, his eyes twinkling, and said "I didn't toot. I farted!" Lovely. 

Moments later, as I stood up to go into the kitchen, Alex said "Hey, while you're in there, get me some more chocolate milk."

What?!? Part of me was appalled by the lack of manners, but another part was thrilled to hear him put that sentence together. (And no, he did not get the chocolate milk.) 

Alex can be such a funny little guy. Frustrating as all hell, but definitely funny. 

Chugging Along

Alex did not have such a great day, potty training wise. I'm not sure how today was so different, in terms of routine, but we'll try again tomorrow.