Normal

I don't want perfect, just normal.


Logan hits his little sister.


He yells at me and gets ticked off when I tell him to put his clothes away before he can play the Wii.


He tries to sneak chocolate chips from the cabinet when he thinks I'm not looking.


So what?


I can handle that. All of it. That's what's expected of a seven year old boy.




Seven year old boys don't

scream and cry for hours,

at the drop of a hat,

until they throw up.


They don't

take pleasure in abusing,

and killing living things,

then show no remorse.


They don't

set out to destroy everything in sight;

new gifts they've been given,

or old treasures that don't belong to them.


They don't

take a baseball bat to anything -

except a baseball.


They don't

talk about death,

or wish away their precious lives,

or the lives of their loved ones.




Seven year old boys

climb trees,

ride bikes,

torment their little sisters,

sneak candy,

and play in the mud.


They are

always hungry,

curious,

brave,

and sometimes crabby.


They still need

friends,

compliments,

hugs,

a kiss from mom,

and an ear to listen.


How do I know this? I have a seven year old boy. I don't always get to see him, but when I do, it's grand.

This new child of mine, he's growing and changing everyday. I didn't talk publicly about the "other" Logan, probably because I didn't know what we were doing wrong. I didn't know why or how. I didn't know how to "fix" it, how to make it all better.

Do I magically have all the answers now? No, but we're learning everyday. We've seen some remarkable changes, they may seem small to those on the outside, but to us, they're tremendous.

For the first time in almost eight years, I feel like I'm able to breathe. Instead of remaining on constant chaos control, I was able to clean & pay bills over spring break - simple things most people probably take for granted.

What could bring on such a change? You may be surprised. A diet. It's actually more of a lifestyle change; an awareness of what we put into our bodies. The ultimate goal? Natural, God-made foods.

Count Your Blessings

This time of year makes me reflect upon the blessings in my life.  It's so easy to dwell on all that we don't have, it's time I remembered all the reasons I should be so thankful.

As I walk through the house each night, fans abuzz, I count those blessings, 1, 2, 3.

One, Chelsea.  Oh were to start?  Five years ago I knew I loved that little one growing inside me, but I had no idea to the extent she would change my life, and my vision.  One of the most important things she has taught me is compassion.  When you see someone in need, do you lend a hand, or do you look away?  

On a recent trip through Wal-Mart, Chelsea and I were passing through the busy aisles, headed to the school supplies.  Just as we passed housewares, Chelsea turned around and ran back two aisles disappearing from my view.  As soon as I lost sight of her, I realized what she was doing.  I remembered seeing an employee out of the corner of my eye, stacking the shelves.  I had heard a loud noise as we passed, but hadn't thought twice about what could have caused the noise.  When I turned the corner Chelsea had already picked up the bowl the employee had dropped, and was handing it to the woman.  I can't think of another person, young or old, who would have been so perceptive and shown the compassion Chelsea did that afternoon.  

Whether it was conscious or not, I had looked away.

Two, Logan.  A firecracker since birth.  When they said parenting is the hardest job you'll ever have, they weren't kidding.  This one keeps me on my toes.  He forces me to keep digging, continue growing and question everything (quite literally).  He's taught me not to pass judgment too quickly.  It happens to all of us; We're deep in conversation, around friends or family we feel comfortable with, and we say things without thinking.

Not long ago I found myself in the middle of a conversation that was all too familiar.  

'... and the child was running all over the place, his mother was a mess trying to keep up with him.'  

'Well she needs to get control over the situation.'  

'Yeah, I would get that under control right away.' 

Yeah.  Uh-huh, sure you would.  Okay, I confess, that was me eight years ago.  Ryan and I used to roll our eyes and gaulk in amazement at parents who let their children run around in public like wild animals.  We swore up and down that would NEVER be us.  

But it is.  It's so us.  And today I'm hurt by those conversations.  I don't know the mother in question, but it sounded to me like she needed to be helped, not ridiculed.  Who are we to judge her?  

Three, my husband Ryan.  It was his strength that first got my attention 12 years ago (he was a strapping young man), and it is what keeps us going today.  

When our first born cried for hours on end and I just couldn't do it anymore, he did.

When we received the confirmation of Down syndrome and I locked myself in the bathroom swearing I would never come out, he pushed the door in and lifted me up.

When they began Chelsea's chemotherapy and I realized I was just as scared of the cure as I was the cancer, he wrapped his arms around both of us and didn't let go.  

I never knew I would need the strength of an army to survive our first decade of marraige, but I'm glad we had it.

Tonight I thank my wonderful family, I am truly blessed.  I hope this Christmas you don't waste precious time fretting over your neighbor's ugly decorations, or who gave the best present, or whose children are the best dressed at church this weekend - and take the time to be thankful for the things in life that really matter.

Someday

 Part 2:

Be warned, chaos continues. 

I'm surprised we made it into the hospital for Chelsea's x-ray after lunch.  Walking from the parking garage, Logan, without any awareness at all, walked in front of a couple of cars, he almost walked right into people we were passing on the sidewalk, and he managed to stop the rotating doors at the entrance.

Once there, he was picking up a colorful piece of plastic off of the ground in the waiting area and putting it in his mouth - until I reminded him that may have been on the bathroom floor at one point.  I requested he put it in the trash, and oddly he obliged.  While waiting for registration he was trying to get Chelsea out of her stroller (yes, at this point in the day I wasn't messing around and she was STRAPPED in.)  After trying to pull papers off of the registration desk, I made him hold my hand all the way into the office.  Because he was restrained he decided to use his lovely mouth.

You're the worst mom in the whole world.

You don't love me.

When we get home, I'm running away.  (Who says I'm taking you home?)

The woman taking our insurance information thought we were crazy.  While Logan went on and on, Chelsea was pulling on the desk and my chair moving her stroller around, almost tipping it a few times, and trying to stand up out of it while screaming, and signing, "BOP" at me.

Logan had to make a sudden bathroom stop before the x-ray.  It was one of those 17 second bathroom stops boys make.  I made him turn around, go back, flush, and wash his hands.  He was back in and out.  I went in after him to get Chelsea set up to go - he definitely washed, water was EVERYWHERE, but the flushing task was left incomplete.  Of course I made him come back and flush.  (Did you notice I spend a lot of time following through, making him clean up after himself etc.  When is this going to pay off, because so far, it's not working.)  When Chelsea washed her hands I realized why there was water all over, it was a tiny sink with way too much water pressure.  Chelsea and I were both wet when we left the bathroom.

The x-ray was completely uneventful.  I couldn't believe it.  I did have to buckle Chelsea in afterwards kicking, screaming and crying, but that's normal.  (For some reason the girls in the radiology room thought it was funny.  I wasn't laughing.)

At home this afternoon Chelsea crashed for a nap.  I was extremely thankful.  In order to save a bit of my sanity, I let Logan play his DS ... for way too long.  Normally we have a 20 minute cap, but he played for a little over an hour today.  Shame on me.  Give me a break, it's the first video game player he's ever had, and he's 7 1/2!

As soon as he got bored with his games, Logan and Bobo came running through the house, and of course Chelsea wasn't far behind them.  She helped me fold clothes while Logan was supposed to be reading that book I made for him this morning.  He didn't get very far.

"Mom, Bobo got a hold of the bag of skittles in your room and is eating them!"  (As a side note I don't typically keep skittles in my room, it was a large unopened bag I had inside a box of supplies waiting to go to my new school.)

Sure enough, Bobo was in Logan's room chowing down on skittles.  The weird thing is he managed to get the entire bag out of the box and into Logan's room in one piece.  He was also able to get the bag open with a nice clean tear.  Pretty amazing for a dog.  Out of fear his beloved dog might die from eating too much candy, Logan was easily persuaded to tell the truth.  He had dug the bag out and hid them behind his dresser, and the dog found them.  Again, why do we think mom and dad ALWAYS say, "no food in your room?"  Was the rotten egg in the window not lesson enough?

The rest of the afternoon was filled with sibling scuffles, a mess of staples, a demolished pad of sticky notes and a fat lip.  Yep, both kids had a bloody lip today.  You can turn me in, but I'm pretty sure after an hour with them, social services would bring em' both back.

Logan was downstairs raiding the basement (and I mean raiding - you would be shocked to see some of the things he's done after sneaking down there) and I hollered for him to get upstairs.  Chelsea was pulling the gate back and forth, the dog was trying his hardest to get past me and get down the stairs. Logan was slowly making his way to the top landing.  In an effort to contain Chelsea and the dog with one hand, I grabbed Logan with the other and pulled him by the arm up the last step and into the kitchen.  Amidst all the chaos, he whacked his mouth on the door jam at the top of the stairs when I pulled him up.  I contained the rest of the herd and went to check on him.  Sure enough it was bleeding.

I took him to clean it up and as soon as he saw it was bleeding he started to cry.  (He knows how to work me, like a knife in my chest.)

Then out came, "Daaaadddddy!!!" (Now twist.)

A little ice and a washcloth and he got over it pretty quickly.  He even apologized for being ornery.  (his words)

I took him to Jazzercise with me tonight, gave him a little more DS time while I worked out, then it was time to head home.  Before we left, I caught him desperately trying to unwrap the four pieces of Dove chocolates he had stolen from the stage.  He returned the unopened pieces and will be paying for the pieces he ate.

Bedtime couldn't come soon enough tonight.  I only wish I had the energy to accomplish something after they're in bed. 

It must seem like I'm exaggerating, but I'm not.  Sunday was just as high on the chaos scale, just different crisis', including, but not limited to - 6 underwear accidents, bloody dog vomit, sibling abuse, broken toys, baby lotion / monkey incident, multiple public bathroom trips, including a bathroom floor tantrum (because the only time she's able to verbalize she needs to potty is when we're at a particularly dirty public place).

I hope I haven't scared anyone out of parenthood, or made you fearful of having a child with Down syndrome.  Of course they are challenging, but clearly all children are.  If you have days like this, just know you're not alone.  If you don't have days like this, ... ever, ... then you're not being honest.

Often it seems like we warn our kids about the things that will happen someday if they don't behave, listen, respect.  We lay out the rules, we follow through, we let go of the small stuff - but still it doesn't get easier. 

So you see, my summer isn't full of fun playtime, blogging and facebook - it's rather a time I try to survive ... with a little bit of sanity.


My summer projects have been a flop so far.  I've got a basement full of boxes with children's clothes that need to be labeled before our garage sale in two weeks, a box of camcorder tapes waiting to be put onto DVD's, a classroom to move and setup, and a few books I need to read.  None of it is done.  Why?  Because most people's someday is my everyday.  And I'm tired.

Someday

It's funny because people will ask me, "why aren't you writing anymore?"  or "I haven't seen anything on your blog for a while."  I'm pretty sure those people don't know me very well.  I have a lot of questions I need to answer regrading sleep studies, tonsil surgery, potty training (don't even get me started) ... but as with everything else, there's just no time.  It's still on my list.  You know, that never-ending to do list us mothers keep in our head in hopes we will one day have just a split second to complete a task not directly related to keeping children alive.  I digress.

I realized tonight that maybe it was a time I filled you in on what I do all day - because really, I know what you're thinking.  It's summertime, I'm SO lucky because I don't have to work for 10 weeks.  It's a blessing, and a curse.

Let me explain.

I woke this morning to the sound of the baby gate in Chelsea's doorway hitting the hardwood floor - that's her way of telling us she's up, and ready to go.  Then out comes the newest member of our family, Bobo.  I can hear him jump from Logan's bed, whine at the door until Chelsea gets there to let him out.  I close my eyes and hold really still in hopes everyone will think I'm still sleeping and just leave me alone a little longer.  Of course Bobo doesn't catch on very fast and I can hear his toenails sliding through the house all the way to my bed.  It's time.

I can no longer postpone the inevitable, so I get up and head for the bathroom.  There's something wet on my bare feet.  It's still warm.  Dangit, after 7 1/2 years you'd think the boy would be house trained.  I pull out the clorox wipes and beckon the boy to come clean up his mess.  He swears he didn't do it today.  It was from Thursday.  Really? ...  Today is Monday.  Whatever, just clean it up.

I head into the kitchen to get breakfast started, but Ryan is already up and working on it.  Whew.  We do much better when we can tag team these little monsters.  We've learned, when they outnumber you, you're screwed.  He's also already given Chelsea a clean pull-up.  This morning she didn't just strip her diaper off, the jammies came off as well - she was buck naked.  That's my girl.  I can't say I blame her, her bed was soaking wet.  Which was fantastic because I'm always hoping for extra laundry!

I was so sad to see Daddy leave this morning.  He's helping a friend scrape, texture and paint his ceilings.  

I decided to attempt eating breakfast this morning, but I knew it was a mistake when I heard running water from the bathroom.  I knew it wasn't Logan, he doesn't frequent the bathroom sink without great resistance.  I trudge in to see what she could be up to.  No wonder she didn't turn the water off.  She broke the faucet off.

It was a bit tricky, but I figured out how to stop the water, then told both children to stay away from the bathroom sink today (not a problem for Logan).  Hmmm, do you think that's why mom and dad always yell at the kids when they punch the handle on the faucet to turn it off?  It's gonna break someday! 

After breakfast I attempt a few phone calls - namely trying to get Chelsea into the doctor for the mysterious limp she's had since last Wednesday.  I got an appointment an hour and a half later - plenty of time to get everyone dressed and out the door, you would think.  I decide I also have just enough time to print off and assemble an appropriate reading a-z book to print off for Logan to read today.  Of course I had to download and print double sided (saving the Earth here!) and Chelsea decided she needed to eat.

All the while Logan has the toys out from under his bed and is looking for more treasured playmates in his closet - the locked closet of which he has somehow retrieved the key we had been hiding above the door jam.  We need a new hiding place.  A few arguments over cleaning up and putting shoes on so we can leave soon and I decide it's not worth it.  I have to move on.

Change the laundry, feed the dog.

Chelsea's still hungry.  Watermelon on the back deck is a safe bet - keeps my kitchen a little cleaner.  Of course Logan has to have some too.

Okay guys, please, just eat your watermelon and stay on the deck while I go wash my face and brush my teeth.  In the bathtub.  I leave them in peace, turn on the radio and take one more peek before heading into the bathroom.  The metal chair is laid over, Chelsea's on her back crying, and Logan is eating his watermelon.  Please!!!!  It's only 10am and I'm already begging my children for mercy.  As I go to check on her, the dog sneaks out (fortunately he didn't go far b/c he knew there was food involved in this incident).  Logan denies all of Chelsea's accusations but decides he better fess up when I tell him I saw him push her chair over.  (I didn't see a thing.)  When I asked him why, I got the standard, "I don't know." 

After some threatening I decided to try washing up again.  During my three minutes of glory, Chelsea managed to come into the house, pull out all of her barbies and accessories, dumped a backpack full of play plates, glasses and silverware, and take off all of her clothes.

No sweat.  I can handle this.  This is nothing.

But she's in a mood today.  I quickly realize trying to cajole an ounce of cooperation from my four year old is a waste of time.  I'm done playing.  This is no time for her to be independent and insist on dressing herself.

Twenty minutes to get to the doctor and the dog needs to be taken out before we leave.  I'm afraid asking Logan to do it is only going to cause more chaos and take longer, so I demand they both go get their bottoms in their car seats and buckle up.  (They never do it, but I still try.)  After a quick spin around the Cottonwood tree with Bobo, I push him in the house, lock the door and prepare to wrestle somebody into their seat.

As expected, she's decided this is the perfect time to hop into the front seat, buckle the seat belt and lock the car door.  Deep breathe.  I hustle around to the driver's side and open the car w/ the keypad.  I hit the unlock button, then rush back to the passenger side where my princess is sitting, only once I get there she's in the driver's side.  This is not the day to mess with mommy.  I climb in grab the screaming and kicking child, and put her in the car seat.  With one last trick up her sleeve, she arches her back so her bottom slides out to the edge of the seat in objection.  She knows how annoying this is and begins to grin, so as not to play into her games, I forcefully push her little pelvis back in the seat and buckle her up.  Great.  Eight minutes to get to our appointment on time.  Thank goodness the clock in my car is fast, because eight really means thirteen.  I've got this.

(Insert typical sibling arguments / physical altercations between two children trapped in car seats here.)

Just before pulling into the doctors office, Logan begins apologizing for all of his antics this morning.  He didn't understand though that I wasn't mad about the pee on the floor, the broken faucet, the abuse to his sister, refusing to help clean up, or the arguing.  It's the whole thing.  It's the everyday.  Bless his heart, he's remorseful, and I was falling for it.  I'm just about to pull over, reach back and give him a great big smooch when he reminds me what all the sweetness is about, "can I still play with the DS at the doctor's office?"

Sigh.

I want so badly to say no, because he doesn't deserve it, but I'm full aware this is my only hope and I'm going to have to give in at some point.

"I'll think about it."  I warn.

It was our typical waiting room experience, Logan was standing on the chair reaching to the top of the fish tank trying to get the lid off so he could reach in and Chelsea suddenly realized she needed to go potty ... by herself.  I must admit I was extremely pleased as Chelsea went potty, wiped, flushed AND washed her hands with minimal assistance (she couldn't reach the soap or paper towels).  As soon as she was done though, she raced towards the stray sippy cup left in the waiting room and when I took that away from her she decided to throw the one book in the entire waiting area on the ground and jump on it.  That's what books are for, right?  Meanwhile Logan has found a partner in crime to help him harass the fish.  I tune in just in time to hear him ask the girl how old she was.  After she answered six, he piped up, "I'm eleven."  ???

"Chelsea."

Thank God.  Get us in a room so I can shut the door and contain these monsters.

I love those tiny little cabinets under the sinks in the patient rooms that are the perfect size for 7 and 4 year old children to hide in.  Grrrrr.  Of course once the doctor comes in, Chelsea decides she is not coming out.  Logan also has an obsession with the little foot holders that pull out from the bottom of the bed.  Out and in, climb on, put in, pull out.  If he only knew what they were for. 

Said doctor wants to x-ray Chelsea's foot, but warns us we'll likely spend a good hour at the hospital getting this done.  Not only did I still have to battle them at the hospital, but I had to figure out a way to feed them ... in public.

Fortunately, at lunch, Chelsea only ran away from me four times, and her lip stopped bleeding pretty quickly after she ran right into the chair behind her while trying to get away the second time.  Logan was also on decent behavior, he begged for pop, but I reminded him if he got pop (lemonade ;) - Chelsea would get the cookie that came with the kids meal they were splitting.  He wasn't happy, but agreed.  I did give him a fourth of her cookie after we ate, which turned out to be a mistake.  When I went to dump our trash, the eyes in the back of my head spotted Logan trying to take Chelsea's cookie right from her hands (but she wasn't giving it up without a fight).  He knew with one look he was caught red handed and moved away from the coveted cookie.  I asked him to take one last napkin to the trash.  Fortunately, he did.  Unfortunately, he came back to the table with a handful of coffee straws, which had to go in the trash as he had three or four of them up his nose before I realized what he was doing.

I left the restaurant, hand in hand with the little thief, and carrying the kicking and crying four year old.  She wanted "more cookie."

And it's only noon.  You'll have to read the end of this saga tomorrow.

La-Di-Da-Di

It's your birthday!  La di da de here's your song!!!  Is there anything more fun that waking your kids up at dawn with obnoxiously cheerful birthday music?  

Today my sweet little boy turns SEVEN!  Where does the time go?  Often I wish I could press pause and they would just stay little.  With each year it seems there are fewer firsts, things tend to smell worse, and everything gets bigger ... feet, teeth, and attitude.

Over the past year Logan has grown physically, socially, emotionally and cognitively.  He has lost FIVE more teeth for a grand total of seven.  His bank is brimming with magical gold dollars from the tooth fairy.  He began playing soccer this year.  The season began with sheer excitement, but the novelty has worn off and now he prefers small talk with the goalie over chasing the ball.  Those shiny cleats and fancy shin guards weren't cheap though so he may give soccer another shot in the fall. 

At this time last year we were planning for Kindergarten graduation.  He was just a baby, my little guy.  Now he's practically a second grader.  I should count my blessings that he hasn't been kicked out of school.  He earned a ticket to the principal's office the FIRST week of first grade.  I wasn't proud, but looking back he learned a lot from that little visit.  His principal made quite an impression.

I had hoped by seven he would be a better eater, but no such luck.  I remember the doctor telling us this was just a "phase" and he'll grow out of it.  That was at his two year old well child visit.  Unfortunately I think some of it is starting to catch up with him because he's still wearing the same size 7 pants from last year.  His feet have grown ... and not just a size or two.  Who knew fungus could grow so quickly on a stinky, wet, size 1 foot?

Logan's 6th year was filled with all kinds of illness.  I think every single virus he had this year was accompanied with a fever - which means his school nurse has me on speed dial these days.  I easily took six or seven sick days staying home with the poor kid, and that's not counting the sick days grandma and grandpa took to stay with him.  It seems fitting that he's ending this year with one last fever.  We actually had a three week run of health in our family - it was about time for someone to come down sick.  The worst part is he has to be fever free for 24 hours before returning to school ... so no birthday treats or extra birthday recess tomorrow.  I also postponed his overnight.

Despite the trials, tribulations, and tinea pedis, I am tremendously proud of my not so little guy.  I love him more than words can express.  I can't imagine what this next year will bring, but I am sure of one thing;  there's never a lack of excitement! 

* And in case you're wondering, yes, he will get a pass on the Signing Time Happy Birthday wake up call.  I'll save it for a fever-free day.

Clean Cup Please

Last week after days and days of super stinky potty diapers, I took Chelsea to the dr. where they taped a plastic bag to her girl area. I know, sounds horrifying, but when you're not potty trained, that's the only way to get a potty test done. The funny thing is I'm pretty sure I could have that kid potty trained in two days if only I had a dozen of those crazy bags.

We left the doctors office, I put her in the car with the bag in place under her diaper and we went to run an errand, or two. It had been about thirty minutes and she started wiggling, and then whining. There was a sense of urgency.

"Did you potty in the bag?"
"Des."
"You did?! Alright, momma take it off as soon as we get home."

Still not content, she whined and squirmed all the way home (another 8 minutes or so). You're wondering why the time is important aren't you? WELL ...

the little stinker hadn't peed in the bag. She was HOLDING it!!! Can you believe it? Do you know what that means? She's been playing us all!!! In my book that means she knows when she's about to pee, and has the ability to hold it in until we get home!!!

Once we got home of course I was surpised at the empty bag, but I put 2 and 2 together pretty quickly. I asked her if I set her on the toilet if she would pee in the bag for mommy, and she obliged.

Uncomfortable and a little ticked at her mother, she produced just enough for the sample I needed. Once the bag came off, she climbed back and finished emptying her bladder. But the best part of the story is yet to come.

Logan had an appointment that day, so we picked him up and of course he asked me what was in the plastic bag in the front seat.

"Well, it's a cup that sissy had to go potty in."
"Ewww, I'm NEVER drinking out of that cup! Okay mom? Never give me that cup!"
"Okay Logan."

The kid didn't even ask why the heck his sister was peeing in a cup - he was just freaking out about the prospect of having to drink out of it later. That's my Logan!

Oh, in case you were wondering, no she doesn't have an infection. Just stinky pee.

Logan Update

Dear Logan,

We just left your first parent teacher conference of first grade and it sounds like you're doing terrific!!! You're teacher says you're a great reader, hard worker, and a good friend.

She said you can read most any word she's given you, you've clearly broken the code. I guess all that reading before bed is paying off! Literacy is a gift, use it and it will take you far!

Your teacher says she still wants you to work on your handwriting. The more we talked tonight she said she understood you a little better and some of the handwriting issues make more sense now. (It's a teacher thing ;) I told her it's not at the top of my priorities - you can read, you're learning how to write - the handwriting will come. She agreed, messy handwriting won't hold you back in life!

We told her you get stressed out by your homework at night. A math sheet, sight word practice and a story or two from your basal reader are often too much for you to handle after a long day of school. The teacher said she understands and doesn't want you to get frustrated - if you can't get it done, that's okay! She promises she won't be mad! (I told you!)

Keep up the hard work. I'm so happy to hear you have lots of friends at school and are working hard and finishing all your work.

Love you - my toothless munchkin!
Mommy

Tuesday's Treasured Talk

Friday:

Logan: Mommy, can we pick up trash today when we get home?
Me: Sure ... why?
Logan: Because it's good for our planet ... and our government.

Saturday:

Logan: Why do people throw their trash everywhere?
Me: I don't know, some people just don't care.
Logan: Litter is bad for the government.

(Giggle)

Me: You mean environment?
Logan: Oh yeah, whatever.

Peanut Butter Toast for Mother's Day

The best part about Mother's Day ... the kids slept until a record breaking 8:50!!!! Seriously, NEVER before has that happened!

The not so great news is that Daddy had to work all day. Fortunately he made a fantastic dinner for his mom and me last night. Both kids made me great gifts at school. Logan brought me a little pot filled with soil and a packet of seeds so I could plant my own little flowers. He had painted the pot, it was adorable. Chelsea gave me a painted hand print on a tile. It was perfect. We've been trying to make decorating tiles a tradition for Mother's Day, but that tradition got a little messed up last year since we were in the hospital. I added the newest tile to the previous years tiles. When the kids are grown I'm going to put them all together and create a very special piece of artwork.

This morning when the kids did wake up, Logan came running into my room asking to eat my last cereal bar for breakfast. I was hoping to make some scrambled eggs and ham for breakfast, so I told him no. I also reminded him that he had promised to make me peanut butter toast (his favorite) for me this morning. He stormed off, "You're mean! I'm not making any peanut butter toast for you! I'm making toast for me and Chelsea, but not you!"

Well good morning to you too.

For the record, he put the toast in the toaster, turned it on, and that's it. I ended up making the peanut butter toast for him and Chelsea.

I got a total of 7 "you're mean!" in the first half hour this morning.

He was pretty nasty to me most of the day, telling me frequently, "you only care about yourself on Mother's Day." Wow. How did I create this monster?

Ah well. He did run out and get me a diaper from the car TWO times while we were at my mom's house this afternoon. I really do have to give him credit for that, he generally doesn't do that.

After his shower tonight, he asked me if he could make me peanut butter toast tomorrow morning. He said, "and don't get out of bed, Chelsea and I will make it for you and bring it to you in bed." He really felt bad. Underneath all of the crabiness, he's really quite a sensitive generous little guy.

I'm just thrilled I got to spend the day with my beautiful, HEALTHY kids. No agenda, no place we had to be, NO chemo ... Those are the best kinds of days!

I hope all of you wonderful moms out there had an equally uneventful, blessed Mother's Day!

April Fools.

I'm still out of town at a training and I called Logan yesterday afternoon to check on him. He was upset last week because he wouldn't be able to pull an April Fool's joke on me if I wasn't home. Nonsense I told him, you can still trick me over the phone!

Then yesterday I knew he was in the April Fools mood, so I asked if anyone played a trick at school. Well for Kindergarteners, it was just a little bit of, "there's a ghost behind you." or "there's a spider on your head." I bet his teacher heard that all day. After talking about that I told him while I was at work today, I fell and broke my foot.

"You broke your foot!!!???" .... "NOBODY in our family has EVER broken a bone!" .... "waaaaaaah" ... and he dropped the phone. My funny, and oh so obvious April Fools joke turned into a total nightmare. He was so upset I couldn't tell him April Fools! Boy did I feel like the most awful mom ever. Finally Grandpa got on the phone to see what in the world I had told my son that made him burst into tears like that. I explained the April Fools Joke and I'm pretty sure he didn't think it was funny either.

I called back at 7:45 in attempts to make ammends with my precious 5 year old boy, but he was already sleeping. "Wake him up for me." I told Grandpa. I think he thought I was kidding, but I explained there was no way I was going to sleep knowing he's that upset at me. Logan was glad to talk to me I think. He agreed to forgive me but he said he would never forget. I'm sure that's true.

And Grandma and Grandpa, I'm sorry for all the havoc I've caused tonight. Thank you very much for coming over to watch my kids while Ryan was at school!

For anyone questioning my Wordless Wednesday post, check that post very carefully. Do you notice anything at the bottom? No worries, the big announcement is still to come. Keep watching!

The Curse of a Superhero

What do you think?




Keep in mind this is a kid who truly thinks he is Spiderman. He wanted to wear his costume under his clothes tonight to a school event at the bookstore. You know, in case anyone needed his help.

I reminded him of Saturday when he wore it (muscles and all) under his clothes to Dillons. He asked me, "Mom, why do people keep staring at me?" He decided maybe he shouldn't wear it in front of all of his school friends.

I won't fail to mention either that he tackled and nearly strangled his three year old sister this morning before school because she picked up his Spiderman mask (that was left lying on the floor).

Boys.

No Thanks.

Last post about the wedding dress. I promise.

My mom picked it up for me last week. She was going to be in the area, and I promised to pay her back. Yeah! It's not gone forever (and it was cheaper than I thought it was going to be!) Tonight they came over for some seed swapping and she brought the huge box with my dress in it. Here's the play by play, too funny not to share.

Logan: What's in that big box?

Gma: Your mommy's wedding dress.

Logan (matter of factly): She doesn't need it. She's already married.

I still laugh just thinking about it. He's so smart he's funny.

I'm letting both of the kids play hookey tomorrow. Logan and Daddy have dentist appointments in the morning at our dentist who is 30 miles away, then Chelsea has clinic in the afternoon. We figured we'd just continue heading that direction instead of driving Logan back to school. He's excited to get to go with us this time, and he doesn't have to go to school all day. It doesn't get much better than that to a 5 year old!

The Backpack (continued ...)

I hunted all morning looking for his requested black Spiderman backpack. Finally at Target I found it! This is really not the time of year to be looking for backpacks, they're mostly sold out or on clearance. Since Target is almost a half an hour from our house, I called to have one of my sisters pop in and make sure they carried this very special backpack. Sure enough, they had one left! She reservd it for us at the customer service desk. I felt bad for asking her to go out of her way, but I dreaded the idea of loading both kids up after school, driving across town only to discover they no longer carried it.

Before getting to Target, we had to stop for gas and to drop off some recycling. Logan about crawled out of his skin with excitement! He could hardly stand the waiting. We went straight for the customer service desk and there it was. Black Spiderman Backpack.

"I don't like that one."

Seriously?! Who is raising this kid? He sure needs to learn some manners!!!

Once again the hunt was on. We spent 20 minutes just trying to figure out WHERE they sold backpacks in Target. We finally found them, and fortunatley they had a large inventory still. Even better, they were all on clearance! I'll admit, I'm not a big fan of the over commercializd characters you see all over childrens' products. I try to avoid buying things with Spiderman, Batman, Transformers on them, but sometimes it's just not worth the fight. I had already decided I would give in this time and find him a nice backpack without a superhero for next year.

OR, maybe I could try, bribery. "If you get this backpack I'll get you a lunch box to go with it." And without a second thought, he took the bait. Fortunately the lunch boxes were also on clearance (I made sure of that before I made the offer). We ended up with a very nice backpack for $9.99 and an insulated lunch bag WITH water bottle for only $3!!! Together they were cheaper than the black spiderman backpack anyways, so everyone left happy!

On the way home Logan told me he never wanted a new backpack. He wanted to use this one forever. I have a feeling he'll be changing his tune come August.

*Update: Logan is home sick today. He came down with a fever last night after dinner. He was shaking like crazy in his sleep, it scared me a bit. He's fine today. Of course they have to be fever free for 24 hours before returning to school, so he's hanging out with Dad today. He's doing so well, he's already found time to break ... yes, break his new backpack!!! It's still usable, it's only the decorative string on the front.

Wordless Wednesdays

The Backpack

Sunday night we had a meeting with our local Down syndrome group. It was a great meeting, they provided babysitters while we listened to some information on financial planning for a child with special needs. We left feeling pretty, um, distraught ... Seems doing nothing isn't working well for us, so we're going to be doing something very soon. I'll definitely be posting more about this as I learn more, because EVERY parent of a special child needs to know this stuff.

After the meeting, one of the families had donated some gifts for our kids to take home. The gifts were for the kids with Down syndrome, and also their siblings. Logan was thrilled, and he actually sat down in front of the gift table and removed his shoes and socks so he could wear the new spiderman socks he picked off of the table! The kid has little self control.

He also found a backpack he fell in love with. There were two actually, one was Spiderman, and the other featured Lightening McQueen from the movie Cars. It was a difficult decision, but ultimately the Cars backpack trumped Spidey b/c it came with a matching lunch box. All of the boys backpacks were a small size, but Logan wanted one so badly he didn't care. I was secretly excited b/c I knew that a new backpack was inevitable in the coming weeks. HIs old one was literally hanging on by a thread and it had become so dirty, no extra heavy duty wash could get it clean.

He moved his folder and papers from his old bag to the new backpack as soon as we got home, and he admired the bag and it's matching lunch box all day on Monday, awaiting school on Tuesday. He did ask me a few times if the bag was for preschoolers, or if it was too small, but after seeing it on his back, I thought it looked okay. I reassured him it would be perfect for Kindergarten and we would get him a bigger one for First grade.

Tuesday morning he woke immediately when his alarm sounded, which doesn't happen often. He got dressed and straightened up his hair without prompting (yelling). He ate lunch quickly and was excited to catch the bus and show his friends his new bag. While I was fixing Chelsea's hair he even began fixing his own lunch! I was so impressed I helped him finish so he could take a cold lunch in his new lunch box.




Logan caught the bus as usual, and I drove Chelsea to school. After leaving her in her classroom, I popped in to say goodbye to Logan. He was sitting quietly in his seat and as I got closer, I noticed his eyes were red. I asked him what was wrong, and he immediately burst out in tears. "The kids were making fun of my bag and said it was small."

Ouch. (This is where I had to hold back my mommy emotions. No, I couldn't reach across the table and ask the kid next to him why she would knock down his new bag that he was obviously so proud of. No, I couldn't lay my head down and cry right along with him either, a much as I wanted to.)

Thank goodness Kindergarten teacher saves the day! She saw the disturbance and intervened. As soon as the perpetrator was confronted she also burst into great big alligator tears. It was quite a scene for 9am in the Kindergarten room.

Mommy rule #284, do not try to solve your childs' bullying issues by offering to buy him something.

Yes, I caved. It was my internal instinct. "Logan, It's okay, do you want to go get a new backpack after school?" I know, I know, that's absolutely the last thing I should have done, and I realized that as soon as I had said it to him. It did however seem to dry up the tears rather quickly. My poor kid, he'll never be able to deal with social problems on his own. I really need to learn to butt out!

The damage was done, I had promised him a new backpack. Before I left school he told me he specifically wanted a black Spiderman backpack. I went home, and spent the morning searching for backpacks with the black Spiderman.

To be continued ...


(Chelsea doesn't like when I try to take pictures of her brother and not her!)

My Baby

Don't even ask about the paper plate. It's a family tradition ;)





Not such a baby anymore! I can't believe I sent my first born off to Kindergarten today. You know, it's bitter sweet. I'm so sad, I love him so much and I could sit around loving on him, reading books and playing games all day ... if he'd let me. He just gets too bored and has to be going going going all day long. That's why I think school will be good for him. He's ready for a little bit more stimulation and for some quality peer interaction.

Can you guess who cried first. It may not be who you think. Logan. Yep, poor kid sat quietly in the gym with his fellow Kindergarteners with the look of sheer fear on his face. Daddy, Chelsea and I sat on the sidelines watching and offering support. The longer he sat watching everyone, the more his little mind started wandering and he looked at me with tears in his eyes, "I want to go home!" I sat with him for a little and tried to introduce him to a couple of boys sitting close by, but he was uninterested. When I stood up to ask the teacher a question, he lost it. I turned around and he had run up to Daddy, thrown his arms around him and buried his head in Dad's chest. Daddy was fighting his own tears all the while reassuring him he would have a great time in Kindergarten.

The teacher let all the parents walk back to the room with the kids (I think she really just wanted us to come to carry all the supplies for them, b/c she kicked us out pretty quickly.) I wanted to stay and snap a few more pics, but I figured I better not get myself in trouble on the first day. So I tiptoed to the otherside of the room (camcorder running) and said my last good bye and blew one more kiss. Logan looked up at me, eyes red and full of tears. He didn't want me to go. Wow. That was soooo hard for me. I was the last parent though, I didn't have a choice. It was time ... So I hurried down the hall and around the corner so I could peek in the back door at him. For my own sanity, I stood and watched until I was sure he was comfortable and focused on something new. I stood there for about 15 seconds.

Logan, not so sure about this Kindergarten stuff. He's so serious.

Chelsea, not so serious.


Here's an end of day shot. He was much happier when I went to pick him up!


Logan and Ms. Jacobs!


Do I need him more than he needs me? Maybe. He's so grown up. How did this happen? If you're wondering what I did with myself all day ... er ... the whole two hours he was in school ... I tackled the junk drawer. Ewwww!


P.S., Julia I can't find your email address, please email me! Thanks.

The Day Before Kindergarten

We sent summer out with a bang. First we had to take care of a well needed cleaning (I know, not so exciting, but Logan was pretty thrilled about bubble gum toothpaste!). Can you believe it was his first cleaning ever? What a champ, no tears, no complaints, in fact he complied beautifully. He was so good I had to give in to the spinning power ranger tooth brush. When the hygentist turned on the bright light she asked if he needed sunglasses b/c it was so bright? Uh, yeah! He thought that was great!



Guess who sat in her stroller like a perfect little angel during the cleaning?!


Then what's better than eating ice cream at McDonalds play place with your girlfriend? These two will definitely be jealous when they meet new people in Kindergarten!


Of course sissy needed ice cream too!


Here's the whole crew after a busy day playing and eating! Logan and Abby have been having little disagreements lately so I told Logan we were going to go on playdates without them when they start Kindergarten. He didn't like that idea!

The Night Before Kindergarten

Whew, I'm finally back. Thank goodness for scheduled posts right?! Well it's the Night before Kindergarten and all through this place, the supplies are all packed even the new pencil case ... okay, so I'm not so good, but there is a book called The Night Before Kindergarten. So cute, we've read it the last three nights in a row! Logan was running around the house like a giddy teenage girl tonight. He's been in bed for a couple of house, but I doubt he's sleeping still. He got a new alarm clock so he won't oversleep, and that was the highlight of his week.

I'll admit, the thought of it makes me well up a bit. I'll likely be the parent with tears in her eyes tomorrow morning. I'll leave b/c I know it's the right thing to do, not because I want to. If I could, I would stay all day with him. Watching over him, making sure nobody is mean and that the teacher listens to what he has to say. But I can't. It's time to let go. **sigh**

On a lighter note. Mommy will have a little bit of freedom in the coming weeks. I can hardly believe it. I'm planning in my head what Chelsea and I will do together. So things may not be as interesting, but will by no means be boring. Chelsea will continue to keep this momma hoppin.

There's so much left to say, a lot I need to tell, but not tonight. I'm not feeling well (a little pre-Kindergarten jitters!) The job, well ... not much luck. If I'm not mistaken, the person in charge of hiring hung up on me yesterday just after I introduced myself. Could we have been disconnected? Possibly, but highly unlikely. And what about the movie Tropic Thunder? More on that later as I don't have much fight in me right now, but please, please, just don't do it. It's an insulting disguisting movie that attacks people with disabilities, including my darling Chelsea. Just makes me sick, please don't waste your money, or encourage such prejiduce.

Kindergarten

The things we do to send our kids to Kindergarten. Would you believe it takes FOUR immunizations to get your kid into school?! I couldn't believe it, I thought maybe one new shot, but nope, a whopping F-O-U-R! Do you think my 5 year old was excited about that, um, no. It took three of us to hold him down. There were two nurses, they were speedy and efficient. They counted one, two, three, and in unison, gave the first two shots. Then again, one, two, three, and the last two were done! Logan screamed at them. Told them to "stop it!" with intimidating sincerity. This kid has a serious temper, I wonder where he got it from?

We talked about some of his behavioral issues with the doctor, and our pediatrician kindly reminded me of the following. One, his little sister has special needs, two, he lost a grandfather just last year, and three, his sister and mother have been living at the hospital because, four, his sister has cancer (in remission of course!) Oh, yes. That could be the root of some of his problems. We're going to see if things don't begin to resolve themselves as we move into a more "normal" phase of life and he starts kindergarten next month. I sure hope so!

Logan's five year old stats?
*** weighing in at 46 pounds (75th percentile)
*** 44 inches tall (75th percentile)

And he is now immune to the chicken pox ... again ... for the next few years anyways ... until they have to do a booster of the booster, ... again. (Can you see me rolling my eyes?)

We took him to have blood drawn to test his lead levels. He's never had it tested and with Daddy's line of work, we thought it would be a good idea to check it out. He screamed at the lady in the lab too. In his most sincere, crabby voice he told her, "get away from me!" He tried to run out of the room, but I caught him and carried him back in. I told him this time that he needed to relax and not tense up or it would hurt. Like the big boy he is, he sat in my lap and relaxed his arm. I held his other arm tightly and told him to watch Daddy and Chelsea. Of course opted to watch the needle. He cried as she stuck him, and demanded, "take it out!" Once she was in, he stopped crying and looked at us in shock. It didn't hurt. She didn't even find the vein at first and had to move it around for a minute, and all the while he chatted with us. He was so proud that it didn't hurt and he didn't cry while the blood was coming out.

My brave little boy. All of this so he can go to Kindergarten ... or was it because I promised him ice cream? Double dipped chocolate ice cream cone with sprinkles. He was in heaven, ... as was his sister ... who had ice cream all - over - her - face!!!

Another ER Visit, ... Who Needs Sleep?

Remember when I wrote about how crummy it is around here, how everyone is always sick. Then remember when Heather commented under that post, never a dull moment? Well I couldn't say it better. Monday night I stayed up way too late updating my blog. I finally hit the sack around midnight. Not for long though. Had I known we were going to end up in the ER that night I would have gone to sleep a lot earlier. You see I gave Logan some benedryl Monday night to help dry up some of his drainage. The added bonus of benedryl? It makes you drowsy and helps you get some good deep sleep.

Logan was sleeping so deeply, he rolled right off of the side of his bed. Actually not right off, kind of out and off. You see his room is kind of small and cramped, so his train table was only about a foot from his bed. It's the home made kind of train table, homemade late one Christmas Eve. The corners aren't rounded, in fact they're pretty sharp. Do you know where I'm going with this? Yep, sliced open the corner of his eye. Ryan and I jumped out of bed as we always do when one of them shreiks like he did and by the time I hurdled his toys to get to him, he was covered in blood.

I picked him up, holding his face to my chest and got him into the bathroom. Daddy wet a wash cloth so we could try to get the bleeding to stop. It was everywhere and it wasn't stopping in a hurry. Logan was crying and screaming, I was screaming at Ryan, "what if it's his eye, and he can't see?!!!" I couldn't tell where all the blood was coming from and I envisioned the worst. In a panic I told Ryan to call the neighbor so we could get him to the hospital. After fumbling around in the kitchen for a minute he came back in announcing he couldn't find their number. Of course he couldn't, I keep that number in my head. It's one of the few numbers Ryan hasn't memorized. I'm not sure why, he can memorize any other number. Instead he called his mom to come watch Chelsea so we could go. We knew it would take her a little time to get there, so in a bloody panic I noticed the neighbors across the street had their light on, so I ran over there to get help. No answer. They had already left on their paper route.

By this time Chelsea was wide awake in her crib. She was crying, obviously scared with all the commotion. Once Ryan and I were dressed, we sat on the front porch waiting for Grandma. Chelsea was up walking around, wondering what was going on, we had been through a few washclothes on his face and the bleeding had slowed. We could see that it wasn't coming out of his eye, but the corner of his eye was sliced open and he would definitely need stitched up.

Daddy flew through the empty streets while I sat in the backseat holding the rag on his face. Logan was calmed down a little by now, but still freaking out at the thought of stitches. I tried to calm him down telling him about when I got stitches as a kid. As inquisitive as ever, the questions began. Almost 3 in the morning, and he was wide awake asking me every question he could think of. why did you fall off the deck? how do they put stitches in? does it hurt? what does it feel like? And he didn't stop there. Once we arrived at the hospital, he questioned the nurse that checked us in, the administrator who took our insurance info, even the doctor got harped about the quality of hospital snacks.

The doctor was pleased that the cut was a nice even slice and while it looked deep and gaping open, she thought she could glue it with dermabond. It looks like a tiny glue stick, and they drop a few drops in the wound, then squeeze the skin together from both sides of the cut, and it stuck together like magic. It was quite amazing actually, I'd never seen that done before. It would be nice to keep some of that in our medicine cabinet! Logan did really well with it, considering he doesn't have a very high pain tolerance. He screamed when she cleaned it with the cold sterile cloths, but quickly realized that didn't hurt, it was just cold. Then when they were gluing it, he freaked for a minute. I had to hold his head still, while he screamed, it was in a bad place, I was afraid it was dripping in his eye and I would imagine that would be pretty painful. At that point he was screaming at the doctor, "Stop. I'm going home! Take me home, NOW!" He was very demanding, but we made it through. Now, two days later, this is what we've got. That is some strong super glue! It looks a little funky and bubbly because some of his tears dripped in it before it dried. It looks good other than that though!




Where is the train table now? In the living room!




We were both exhausted to say the least. Ryan had 4 hours of sleep before the incident, and when we got home just before 5am, he decided to stay up. He even ran on the treadmill before work. I attempted a little more sleep, but was only able to sleep 2 more hours before the alarm went off. I got up to get ready to teach Jazzercise, but I was seeing stars, I was dizzy and my hands were shaking uncontrollably. For fear I might fall off of the stage, I called for a sub. Really, the last thing I wanted to do, but I had no choice, there was no way I was in any physical condition to teach.

The kids were in bed by 7:00 last night, and Ryan and I followed at 8pm. At 9 Logan was screaming because Fluffy (his pet dinosaur) had blood on his arm and he demanded I wash him. I had just fallen into a deep sleep and told him NO! Then at 1am Chelsea was up crying, fussing and chewing on her finger, so I gave her some tylenol. Again at 4am she was up crying for almost an hour. She seems fine now, I think she just wanted to make sure mom and dad didn't get too much sleep!