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.

Jen vs Snowy Driveway

Yesterday and through last night, we had the biggest winter storm we've had around here in several years. Nothing remarkable, I suppose, but when it hasn't snowed much, even the four-ish inches of snow that fell seems to be a lot. Fortunately, our activities both last night and today were cancelled, leaving us the luxury of spending the day at home.

Doing chores, of course. It is still Saturday, after all.

I assigned the indoor chores to the kids, and I set out to tackle the snowy driveway. It was the perfect plan: I was getting out of cleaning up the kitchen mess, and I would get a break from the incessant sibling bickery that just would not stop this morning. I laced up my snow boots, pulled on my hat, adjusted my sunglasses, and grabbed the snow shovel. Although I was about to embark upon three things I don't really like (cold, snow, and exerting myself), I was ready.

With the first shovel full of snow, I was reminded that before the snow fell, there was freezing rain. A nice, frozen layer of yuck was hiding behind the clean, fluffy snow. My awesome plan of escaping the inside of the house was beginning to seem a bit lackluster.

I persevered, though, reminding myself how many steps my Fitbit would surely record, and also wondered if I could plug "snow shoveling" into my Weight Watchers app for even more Activity Points. After about 30 minutes, I stopped to check my Fitbit, and almost burst into tears right there on the sidewalk when I couldn't read the display. I thought the battery died and all my hard work was for naught. I rushed into the garage and tore off my glove to see if I could revive the Fitbit. Fortunately, between the bright sun, the glare of the snow, and my sunglasses, I just couldn't see the numbers. Everything was there, as it should be. I heaved a sigh of relief and trudged back down the driveway.

All in all, I spent an hour and a half chipping away at ice and removing snow from the driveway. A person has a lot of time to think while executing such a laborious task, and I found myself thinking:

"Why in the hell do we still live in Ohio?!"

"I wonder how my form is. Are the neighbors judging my form?"

"How long does it take for snot-sicles to completely freeze and fall off?"

"I should have the kids out here doing this, but then they would just throw snow everywhere and someone would cry. Probably me."

"I really should buy a snowblower. Then I could charge, like, $10 to clear a driveway. That thing would pay for itself in no time!!"

As stubborn as I am, I had to throw in the towel before all the snow was completely cleared. My arms were shaking, my nose was running, and I was sweating under my layers of fleece. I threw some salt down, said a quick prayer that my back wouldn't go out, and hoped that the work I had done would be enough to get my car out of the driveway tomorrow (and back in, for that matter!).

Next time, unless I follow through on that snowblower plan, I should just pay a neighborhood kid to do the driveway. Then, my arms wouldn't be all shaky and my back wouldn't be screaming in pain. Now, I wonder if I can pay someone to take down the stinking Christmas tree...

Until the next snow fall (which I hear will be Monday, ugh!), I will call this a victory. I got a ton of steps and activity points (well, maybe not a "ton," but a lot), I got some peace and quiet (sort of), and my kids did the dishes. Jen - 1, snowy driveway - 0.

New Year, New Goals

So, this is 2018. It seems fairly similar to what we left behind in 2017, but yeah, it's still pretty early. I won't write it off just yet, so no worries there.

As many of us do, I set some goals for this year but historically I'm not great with following through on resolutions. This year, though, I'm determined to stick to some fairly simple goals.

1. Stop eating like an unsupervised 12 year old
I am a stress eater; I own that 100%. Sometimes, I make really bad food choices (like the chocolate cake and mimosa I had before noon today). Too often, I tell myself that eating junk is ok because I need a release from all the stress and shenanigans I routinely face. But, that has resulted in ridiculous habits that just need to end. So, after seeing a bazillion commercials over Winter Break for Weight Watchers, I decided to sign up again. I've had great success with their plan in the past; it seems that I really need that visual point system to keep myself in check. Plus, apparently Oprah will now be my BFF and bring me tacos! Cool, right? Seriously, though, this is more about just losing weight; it's about feeling better about myself and finding other ways to deal with stress. Wish me luck!

2. Drink more water
If you know me at all, you know how I treasure my coffee. My coffee obsession (perhaps I should just say "caffeine obsession") has also become extreme, and I find that some days I fall terribly short of the recommended daily consumption of water. This year, I'm hoping to fix that. I have a giant two liter water bottle (it's all cute and turquoise!) to help me; again, I need that visual reminder! As an added bonus, this goal should help me with the first item on my list. If you can't find me this year, I'm probably in the bathroom trying not to pee my pants. (Hey, this is a legit concern if I really plan on drinking all this water!!)

3. Be more organized
Blah, blah, blah...isn't this goal on everyone's list? Maybe so. All I know is that too often, I find myself scrambling because I can't find a paper I need, or the kids' lunch cards need reloaded, or no one has clean underwear for the next day. I figure that a little extra planning ahead might remedy some of this. And, again, as an added bonus, more organization should keep me from stuffing my face with junk. (A girl can dream, anyway...)

4. Write more
I enjoy writing, and I'm told that my family has quite a story to share. I often forego my writing time in favor of just about anything else. In 2018, I'm hoping to change that. I also decided in 2017 to write that book that's been on my mind, but since then, I haven't really worked on it (other than drafting an outline and devoting many of my anxious, late night freak outs to it). We'll see what happens.

5. Keep working on kindness
There are always opportunities to be kind, teach kindness, and appreciate kind acts. This is something everyone can strive for, every day. I'll keep trying if you will.

I could probably add more to this list, but I'll stop here. What are you working on in 2018?

Why I Advocate

I've always been a quiet person (until you get to know me, I suppose), someone who would rather avoid confrontation than speak up and "cause trouble."

This all changed when I became part of the disability community 13 years ago, as the mother of an awesome kid with Down syndrome. With the birth of my son also came the birth of an advocate: me.

It wasn't an immediate change, as I still struggle of when and how to speak up, but in the last year I've definitely found myself more determined to have my voice heard. Not only have I advocated for my son, but I've gone beyond that to also share my concerns with elected officials in terms of federal and state issues that affect the Down syndrome community and the larger disability community. For the woman who hates phone calls, this was a huge leap outside of my comfort zone, but I did it anyway.

 Calling my Senator to share my thoughts about the proposed repeal of the ACHA, June 2017

I fought through nerves and feeling like I was too inexperienced to make a difference to call, email, fax (thanks, ResistBot!), and tag my elected officials on social media in order to be heard. Why, though? Why would this introverted mess put herself through all of this? How did this stressed out mother of three become an advocate? 

Because...

My head nearly explodes every time I hear someone drop the R-word.

Seriously, folks. It's 2018! Let's get it together. There are other words you can substitute instead of labeling something or someone as "retarded" when you truly mean "ridiculous." Fix it, please, but until you do, I will be here to correct you and let you know why your word choices are inappropriate. 

Others in my community don't understand.

A few months ago, when I was picking up one of my kids from school, another parent came flying in, irritated, and loudly proclaimed "Sorry I'm late, but a handicap bus took six freakin' minutes to unload and I was stuck there behind them!" Had I not been so busy biting my tongue to keep my initial reactions in check, I would have thanked that parent for their patience in allowing a student with a disability to safely get off their bus. But, I stood there, my left eyebrow grazing the ceiling, incredulous that someone would be that ignorant. In this instance, something that allows a child with a disability to safely travel to school was simply dismissed as a burden. So many times the disability community is overlooked because something that helps them could potentially be seen as an inconvenience to everyone else. I've seen this in education and workplace settings, and I'm sure it exists otherwise. It needs to stop, but until others realize that this type of behavior is not acceptable, it won't. Next time I find myself in this situation, I hope I will have enough grace and courage to politely engage and raise awareness. 

My son has the same rights as everyone else.

Until recently, most of my advocacy has centered around my own son and his inclusion at school. Inclusion is a tricky thing, as there is no "one size fits all" formula to enact it in our schools, churches, and workplaces. I am constantly striving to learn how to be a better advocate for my son so that he has the same opportunities as his non-disabled peers. Once his school years are complete, he has the right to to work and participate in his community as an adult, and lately, it seems that some of the supports that will aide him in this have been jeopardized. Although I had very little experience calling my congressmen, I picked up my phone and called to express my concern about this. I am very fortunate to have fantastic mentors so I can continue to learn how to be the best advocate I can be for my son. It is definitely a learning experience, all around, and I am thankful that I have the chance to learn as I go. 

My kids need a strong example to follow.

More than anything, I want my kids to grow up to be confident participants in their communities. They have watched and listened to me make phone calls to Senators, they have asked about the countless emails I have sent, and they have participated in our video messages to our elected officials whom we tag on my social media profiles. I want them to know that their voices can make a difference, no matter what the issue is, and that it is their responsibility and privilege to speak up. They are already on their way to becoming awesome advocates, and I could not be more excited and proud. 

Advocacy, no matter how big or small, can be stressful and tiring. Often times, I am tempted to put off an email to my son's school or a call to my Senator because I am exhausted. But, knowing the impact that can be made, I trudge on, hoping that my quiet, non-confrontational self can make a difference. If nothing else, I have a story to tell, a story that continues to unfold, day after day. Perhaps by sharing a bit of this story, others will be inspired to speak up for those who can't yet speak up for themselves.

This is how change is made. Change is the ultimate goal of advocacy, and it is also the reward. 

Why I Advocate 

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.

Alex and His Soccer Pals

Sports are an important part of our culture. They provide entertainment, build communities, encourage strength (mental and physical) and teamwork. There are many benefits to having sports programs, from little leagues clear up to the professional ranks. As with anything, the fascination with athletics varies from person to person, from sport to sport. I'll admit, I'm not a big fan of any one sport. I like to watch certain teams (go Bucks!), and I love the Olympics, but mostly, I can take it or leave it. I do always enjoy the human interest type stories that evolve from the athletes' experiences; often, I think those stories entertain me more than the games themselves.

Five years ago, our very own story began with a local sports team.

In the summer of 2012, I received information about a soccer camp that was being hosted by a nearby high school soccer team. At that point, Alex was the only one of my kids who was old enough to participate, so I asked the organizers how they felt about having a camper with Down syndrome (that was back when I asked; now I typically don't give a heads up and just expect that he will be accepted into community programs). They enthusiastically welcomed him, and one hot summer evening, an almost eight year old Alex showed up to camp.

He promptly refused to play, and we left shortly after that.

The next night, though, we tried again; this time, a high school player took Alex aside and passed a ball back and forth with him. That passing drill somehow evolved into a game of Duck, Duck, Goose. I nervously watched, worried that Alex was distracting the high school player or the other campers, but the coach assured me that he was fine and that as long as he was having fun, that's all that mattered.

He had an absolute blast.

Alex finished that week of camp with a big group of new high school friends. He had a great time, and while he didn't develop many new soccer skills (by his own choice, not because of a lack of effort by the team!), he found something perhaps more important: inclusion and friendship.

Several weeks after the camp, I received an email from the coach, checking in on Alex and asking if there was a way that the team could remain involved with him. We were so touched that they were still thinking about Alex, and we invited the soccer team to join us at the Columbus Buddy Walk that year. We were blown away by their response: the coaches, players, and their family members supported our team, walked with us, posed for photos, and once again illustrated how great inclusion can be. Alex was thrilled to see his new friends again, and the following summer, he returned to camp.

Like the first year, he didn't care for many of the soccer drills, but he had a ton of fun and continued to make new friends, and those new friends once again showed up to support Team Alex at the Buddy Walk. Soon after that, the team decided to host another camp, just for individuals with Down syndrome. This pattern has continued ever since that first year, and as Alex gets older, those friendships grow stronger. Alex's original friends from the team are now college students, but they still make a point to visit with him and exchange hugs and high fives. He feels like he's part of that team, and that's how he's regarded by the players and coaches. It's a remarkable thing to see.

This past summer, as we drove to the first night of soccer camp, I suggested to Alex that maybe he should run the soccer drills rather than play Duck, Duck, Goose. "No, Mom!" he replied. "They like to play Duck, Duck, Goose! That's how they include me." After realizing that he was right, I stayed out of it. These kids get it. Alex is treated like any other kid, but they know when he needs a break or when something needs to be modified (or changed completely!) to suit him. They look after him, and he looks up to them.

Alex started attending the high school soccer games a few years ago, where he sometimes finagles his way to a seat on the bench, to fiercely support each and every player. Perched on that bench with his soccer pals is one of his most favorite places to be. He gives pep talks, he encourages players as they come on and off the field, and he cracks jokes to make his friends laugh.

Last night, we took Alex to see his friends play their last home game of the season, and it was Senior Night. Alex has been around the program as long as this group of seniors has, and he was really excited to celebrate them. He was invited out on the field with the team before the game started, to line up with them as the seniors were recognized, and he gave high fives to everyone as they passed by him. Admittedly, I'm a big cry baby any more, and it doesn't take much to make me cry; I was teary eyed as the tributes the players wrote to their families, teammates, and coaches were read as they walked across the field with their parents. When one of the seniors stopped to give Alex a huge hug, I may have choked back an ugly cry right there in the bleachers. It was such an amazing demonstration of the friendships Alex has developed with the team over the years.

It's our hope that these high school kids, their coaches, and their families know how truly grateful we are for them. Inclusion is not always an easy thing to accomplish, but they pull it off so effortlessly, making Alex feel like part of their soccer family. We look forward to continuing the tradition, and while Al may not attend that particular high school, he will always be one of the biggest fans of that soccer team.

After spending this many years observing at soccer camp, watching my younger son play on his teams, and attending these high school games, I still can't claim to know much about the sport of soccer. What I do know, though, is that it brought my family a beautiful gift of inclusion, and for that, it might just be my very favorite sport.

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?