THE GREAT ADVENTURE

Today was the first day of kindergarten for DS#3. We had to wait all morning. DS started pacing around the couch right after breakfast (can we go now? Can we go now?)

A bus came, but not for DS#3. It was also the first day of preschool for my daughter. DS#3 looked on enviously as she boarded her bus. It didn't help that she was laughing non-stop and singing an obscure bus-song. At least he remembered the rule to stay on the sidewalk. Back into the house we went. Pace. Pace. Pace.

Finally, because I could not stand the pacing any longer I decided we would head to the bus stop 10 minutes early. We stepped out onto our porch to see the bus leaving the bus stop. DS#3 was devastated. I talked to the moms at the stop, it turns out the bus was traveling the route backwards and tomorrow it will be on the original time. Unfortunately, this meant that DS had to do the very uncool thing and have his mom take him to school. He glowered the entire way.

The kindergarten playground was utter chaos. No one knew where to line up (with 5 kindergarten teachers, no one knew which line they were supposed to be standing in). We missed our line by the fact that the crowd was blocking our view of it. I escorted DS into his kindergarten room. Apparently it is still cool to kiss mom good-bye. I made sure his bus number was pinned to his shirt. As I left the room I heard him yell "Teacher, I'm heeeeereeee!" I escaped as quickly as possible.

Now forward to mid-afternoon. DS#1 comes home from middle school. Half an hour DS#2 comes home from elementary school.......without DS#3. I asked him where on earth was my third-born? "I don't know Mom, he didn't get on the bus." Dear Daughter came home as I was frantically calling the school asking where my Angel-Boy was and did-they-lose-him? I had visions of him getting off at a wrong stop and being lost forever. The school radioed the buses and found DS#3 on a bus going in the opposite direction. He was able to tell the bus driver his name and my name. The driver called me and we arranged to meet back at the school.

I broke all speed limits getting to the school. The bus pulled in a few minutes later. DS#3 calmly got off the bus, turned around, and politely thanked the bus driver. The driver commented on how smart and sweet DS#3 was during their ride. As the bus pulled away, DS#3 remarked to me "Wow, that was a great adventure". We drove home and reunited DS#3 with his siblings. DS dropped his backpack on the floor, laid down on the couch and promptly fell asleep. Apparently Great Aventures wear little boys out.

As a side note, I am highly tempted to print DS's bus number in big black numbers on a white t-shirt, which I then would require him to wear every day for the rest of the year.

When It Rains It Pours

My daughter got her cast taken off today. She was so brave. No crying but she did keep her hands over her ears and repeatedly chastised Mr. Saw Man for operating his saw too loud. When she saw the skin on her newly bare leg, she thought it was "Yuck". Her skin is shedding after being covered for so long. My daughter does not like the feel of it.

We started the day at the fracture clinic of PCMC. We finished the day at our pediatricians office. DS#3 did not touch his pizza at dinner. DS#1 brought him to me and told me to look at his tongue. There were nasty canker sores all over it. Off we go to the ped. dr. office where DS#3 is diagnosed with Hand Foot And Mouth disease. What on earth is that? It sounds like something horses get. Apparently it is a virus that will last 3-5 days, is very contaigous, and affects kids under the age of 7. Once they have had it they will not get it again. The dr. also found an ear infection which DS#3 never complained of. This kid must have a high pain tolerance.

No sooner did we finish one medical dilemma (and resulting very big bill) that we found ourselves into another medical dilemma (and resulting semi-big bill). And the first day of kindergarten is a week away. I really wish we weren't on a first name basis with our pediatrician, orthopedist, cardiologist, pharmacist and ER. I like to fool myself by saying it is because my kids are just so darn cute. No, it really is because my kids are just so darn prone injury or illness. With 4 kids it seems like we are always dealing with someone's medical bills.

Here is hoping for a healthy school year. Please?

Bless This Home......

We've dealt with my daughter's broken leg (tramp slip, we got the lecture from our ped.dr, and the cast is purple), moving to a new house ("Mom I can't find ____insert anything here___), four new school registrations (and the headache of finding birth certs and immunization records in moving boxes), the changing of the utilities (not to be confused with The Changing Of The Guard but with nearly the same pomp and circumstance), the lost mailbox (honestly,we couldn't find it and the post office could not remember where they put it), receiving mail for 5 different adults whom I do not know (how many people lived in this house before we bought it? It had to have been all at the same time), and The Mosquitos (yes, its supposed to sound like a horror flick. The stories the locals tell....).

Now if all of that sounded negative, it wasn't meant to seem so. It was stressful, irritating, and, in the case of the mosiquitos, rather freaky. My sister and her husband came to see the house. We got to talking and the time passed so quickly that it was 10:00 when they left. Someone had left the porch light on and when they opened the front door to leave..............
THE MOSQUITOS!!!!! (can you just hear the scary soundtrack?) There was a huge cloud. We slammed the door and DH ran for the bug spray. My sis and her DH left in a cloud of noxious fumes. The next morning I could actually sweep all of the bugs of the porch. I hear the city has started spraying every two weeks......

There are so many things I love about this community. Our ward is very friendly. Today DH found out that one of his old mission zone leaders is in our ward. There are so many new people that there is a "New Member Orientation" every week to help them out. Everyone is outgoing and trying to learn all of the names. Our records were read in our ward today. The counselor in our bishopric introduced me as Karen (um, no) and misprounounced our last name. I think we will be correcting people for quite a while.

I love the views. The area behind our back yard is green space. That view will stay intact. I love watching storms come over the mountains from my bedroom window. My kids love watching the storms from my bedroom window. As soon as lightning is seen, a shout goes up and everybody runs into my room and jumps on my bed. I then ceremoniously open the blinds to start the show. Oohs and Ahhs abound.

This community has so much to offer. This week school starts. I'm signing the boys up for fall sports. A local grain mill is holding a free pancake breakfast and tour of their factory (I am surprised the kids want to see it). We'll start attending story time at the library. We've discovered the local farmer's market. DH and I are enjoying the nearby attractions for date night. Life is starting to get back to normal. Thank goodness for routines.

My daughter gets her purple cast off this week. She can hardly wait to start dancing again. Instead of driving 30 minutes to get to her dance studio, I can now drive there in 10. A bonus indeed.

Tonight, after family scripture study, my DH gave a school blessing to each of our children. I even had a blessing (my kids insisted it was only fair that I get one, too. They are so afraid I will miss them while they are all at school.) Then we knelt together while my husband blessed our house. It is now official. This is the place we call Home.

Parting is such sweet sorrow...

We finished the new carpet and all the painting upstairs. We finished the cherry flooring downstairs. Then we went to look at a house.....

This house was supposed to be for my husband's "flip" business. It is a new house, two months old. Everything is done but the landscaping. The house also has a lot of equity in it that for some reason the sellers weren't interested in recouping in the sale price.

DH and I walked in. We knew this was where we were supposed to be. After praying for years and asking God to show us His plan for us, He shows us when we weren't expecting it. Next thing we know, we're moving in two weeks.

I thought the kids would be upset but they are actually excited. DS#3 is calling this "Our Big Adventure" as if it were the title to some fantastic book. I guess I will have to scrapbook the move in a separate book so that can come true. DS#2 only cares that there are sports programs in this new town. DS#1 just wants time to make friends before the school year starts.

The Good News Is .... that some dear friends of ours moved into this area 6 years ago. Their daughter and DS#1 will go to the same school. They have horses and our kids love horses. Its a good thing.

The Good News Is ....the new house is nearly twice as big as the finished square feet of our current house. There are only 4 bedrooms but DS#2 and DS#3 will share the biggest kids bedroom. The Master bedroom is huge with it's own sitting area, double sinks in the master bath, a tub and separate shower, and a walk in closet that is bigger than our kid's current rooms. There is a common area that separates the kids rooms from ours that will be a great hangout area for the kids. The kids rooms each have a walk-in closet.

The Good News Is .... the kitchen is twice as big as the one I have now. There is a huge walk-in pantry. I will be able to put all of my kitchen things away in the kitchen!

The Good News Is ....there is a fireplace. A linen closet. A formal dining area just off the living room. So many extras that we do not have now.

The Good News Is .... that the new neighborhood is full of families with a wide range of kids. Our kids will have no problem finding new friends.

The Bad News Is.....we're leaving the house we built ourselves. The house we've lived in for 10 years. The only house my kids have ever known. The memories we have here are in the millions. My kids' birthdays and Christmases, family parties, cooking lessons, impromptu concerts, family home evening, scripture study, family prayers, late night talks. They have all been here.

The Bad News Is....we're leaving the neighbors we love. There are so many people here who are dear to us. People whom we've helped and who've helped us. We have laughed together, cried together, celebrated together, served together. People who have seen us at our best and at our worst, and have loved us .

The Bad News Is....I'm going to miss this place.

I'M STILL STANDING!

Two weeks ago I came home from a disability conference to find that my computer no longer worked. I took it to the computer store where the guarantee was "Fixed in 24 hours". Nearly two weeks later I got the computer back with the advice to put my keyboard in the dishwasher (the problem was a dirty keyboard according to the computer geek at the computer store). I am a very trusting person...I put the keyboard in the dishwasher. One trip-to-the-store-to-get-a-new-keyboard later, I'm back on the Net.

I had no idea how much I depended on my computer until it was gone. I check email in the morning, do a bit of advocacy work, and read the news during breakfast. It was a habit that I sorely missed the past few weeks.

So nothing great to blog except to say I'm still standing. (now that song is in my head, its not even a good one....)

Ah...The Fumes Of Spring

Spring has sprung. The grass is ris'. I wonder where the paintbrush is? Yes, it is that time again where mankind wants to declutter, renew, and redecorate. What is it about gorgegous spring weather that makes us want to stay inside with home improvement projects rather than go outside and enjoy the season?

The fever has hit at my house. It all started with wanting a bed. A real bed, not just a bed frame. I shopped for months online and in furniture stores and could not find exactly what I wanted. That is, until 2 weeks ago when I came aross the perfect panel bed in the perfect cherry color that matches the current funiture I have.

If I am going to have a new bed then surely I need to paint the walls, right? While looking at our walls, I also looked at the walls in the other bedrooms and the hall and decided that they all needed painting. (Kids do amazing damage to paint, it would be good to give everything a fresh coat.) Easy project, with just a little elbow grease.

Of course after looking at the walls I had to look at the floors. The carpet is 10 years old (it's amazing how kids can ruin the carpet beyond repair). Okay, let's replace the carpet upstairs. It means I'll have to rush the paint job but we'll get it done and things will look great.

Then I started looking at the main floor. (Kids are incredibly hard on carpet in high traffic areas.) What if we replaced the carpet there with hardwood flooring? It would look gorgeous! Of course, that means repainting the rooms before the flooring goes in... Oh, and to save money, we'll lay the floor ourselves. We did it in the kitchen when we built the house. Apparently 10 years is enough time to forget the agony of laying your own hardwood floor.

Then I came into the kitchen where the original hardwood is. (What was I thinking, laying hardwood in a kitchen when I have young kids?) The flooring looked worn and warped where the dishwasher leaked. I would love to have tile in here, let's do it! We can lay it ourselves to save on installation. While we're at it, lets paint the cabinets white and change the formica counter to something granite. This will be great!

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I'm halfway through the first painting project. All the other materials are ordered and there is no turning back. While I am still excited for all the new changes, I'm looking out at the gorgeous spring we're having and I feel like I'm missing out. These fumes are getting to me. I think a walk with my kids this evening will clear my head. I hope the daffodils are still in bloom.

Happy Spring!

The Wisdom of a 5 Year Old


The following wisdom has come from DS#3 today during a 25 minute drive:


1. Eagles like french fries. They can smell them from miles away in the woods where they live. They like to fly down and bite them out of your hands. (Can you imagine, an eagle instead of a seagull chasing you down for your fries? Are you scared? We have just been informed that they like to bite them out of your hands. Or, bite your hands off.)

2. Teenagers can wear jetpacks to fly. They are responsible. They can also wear a ninja sword while they fly with their jet pack. (Would any of you trust your teen with a jet pack and a ninja sword? I didn't think so.)

3. People should share. They should plant gardens and grow food, like pumpkins that lay on the ground. Then you can eat pumpkin pie. Famers grow pumpkin pie, a whole bunch, and they give it to the stores. (It will be very interesting planning my garden this year. I wonder what he will want to grow besides pumpkin pie?)

4. Driving is, if you see a red light you stop. If you see yellow you slow down. If you see a green light you go fast. And if you see a blue light, you get to go super fast. (I truly hope he doesn't mean the blue light on top of police cars...)


I hope this has brightened your day. Everyone could use the wisdom of a 5 year old. (I knew I should have named him Solomon).

No One Takes Care Of Mom When Mom Is Sick....


I was in the doctors office, sick and hurting from the neck up. After the myriad of questions and the poking, prodding, cold stethescope with commands of "Breathe deep..again...again...again", this statement was handed to me along with a diagnosis of sinus infection and a double ear infection.

I had been sick for two weeks. I had been down in bed for the last two days of those two weeks when I decided I had had enough and called the physicians office for an appointment. During those two weeks my family was solicitous. The kids asked if they could get me a drink. DH did a medicine run at 10:00 p.m. Dinner ended up being You're On You're Own (known as YOYO at our house) more than a few times. My older boys helped with the young kids.

It is not that no one takes care of mom when mom is sick. A more appropriate comment would have been "Mom never takes care of Mom when Mom is sick". More often then not, I forgot to dose up to ease my symptoms because I was too busy being Mom. Instead of seeing the doctor in the first week, I waited til I was miserable with pain. DH often tells me that I am impossible to get to the doctor, not because I am afraid, but because I'm so busy that I keep putting it off. In fact, the only thing that got me to the doctor was the fact that I WAS IN BED. Wait a minute, don't I often wish I could just lay in bed and read? Or sleep? I finally get my chance and I was in too much pain to enjoy it.

4 prescriptions and 48 hours later, I am making Family Night treats, getting dinner ready, the kitchen is clean and the laundry pile is diminishing. My head still hurts, but not as bad and it is getting better. To be honest, I rather like getting back to the Mom routine. Here's to taking care of Mom.

The End Of An Era

This past week we took down the crib. When we were first looking for a crib we had very little money. I saw a gorgeous sleighbed-style crib in an advertisement and made an off-hand remark to DH that I loved it. Next thing I know, he bought it for me. It was by far the nicest piece of furniture in our apartment. It was the only new piece of furniture in our apartment.

That crib was moved from apartment to house. It was a bed for 4 beautiful babies. It has seen its share of funiture abuse and has the resulting scratches and toothmarks to show for it. For 14 years it has been a part of our lives. I used to reach my hands in that crib just to feel my newborn baby breathing. I have a picture of my firstborn, with his white-blond hair sticking straight up, standing in that crib and waving to the world outside his window. I used to sit onthe floor beside the crib, reach my hands through the slats, and rub the head of my child that had a hard time sleeping on his own. I've watched my kids sleep at all angles in that crib and wonder how on earth that could be comfortable. I've even played peek-a-boo over, under, around, and through that crib with all four of my children.

For the past year, my DD has know how to get out of the crib. A contortionist of sorts, she lifts her leg straight up in the air and hooks her toes over the edge. Then this child (who is supposed to have low-muscle tone) lifts herself over with the grace of a gymnast doing a routine on the uneven parallel bars. She then hangs by her fingers on the other side until she can get her toes on top of the mattress through the bars and climbs down.

The only problem with this is that she can't get back in. DD has been know to wander into my room at all hours only to be put back in her own bed. We finally realized that she would get back in by herself if she could. So this past weekend we bought her a toddler bed. DD was so excited to see a bed just her size. She immediately grabbed her quilts and "made" her own bed with a flourshing "ta-DA!" thrown in at then end. She was very excited to have her own big-girl bed.

Now the crib is in pieces on my family room floor. I refuse to give it away as I want to save it for future visiting grandchildren. (That is such a strange thought. When I was 18, I could not imagine being in my 30's. Now here I am, on the upswing to 40, thinking ahead about grandchildren.) Today I will rub the wood with lemon oil and then wrap everything in a sheet and wonder where I will have room to store it.

I used to get excited about changes. Now, I am a little sentimental and I wish time would not have gone so fast. Sleep well, my little sweetheart. Don't grow up too soon.

5 Random Things About Me (a meme)

1. I was a very ugly baby: I was born 3 months premature, weighed 2 lbs and was blue and hairy. I never had a cute baby pic until I was 6 months old and even then my mom cut my hair into a flat top since it wouldn't lay down. My twin sis, on the other hand, was a darling baby. I learned very early that life isn't fair.

2. Nougat makes me nauseated: When I was 7 years old I found a bag of 3 Musketeers minis that my mom forgot she had stashed for Halloween. Sinced I didn't like chocolate at the time, I cut all of the chocolate off and gorged on the nougat. The entire bag. Haven't been able to stand the stuff ever since.

3. I've always wanted to run in a marathon: Those who know me will laugh because I hate to run. I just want to see if I can do it. I learned to run flat-footed as a child (it was the only way to keep my shoes on my skinny feet) and would come in dead last in every Presidential Physical Fitness race in elementary school. I think I'm emotionally scarred.

4. I love rainy days: When the mountains turn dark and exquisitely detailed with the clouds hanging low on them. It rained on my wedding day. KMN!

5. I have a very dry sense of humor: and use it with a straight face. People would be offended if my darling husband didn't traslate for them.

I Hope You Dance

Today was a day that every mom should have with her daughter. My only daughter started dance class a month ago. It is a performing group full of kids with Down syndrome. This particular group is made up of preschoolers. Dear Daughter (DD) is the youngest and also the shortest by a good 6 inches.

DD knows when it is dance class day. She gets excited the same way she does when the bus comes to pick her up for preschool. She sings all the way, throughout the entire 30 minute drive. She insists on walking by herself through the parking lot. When we get inside she says hi to everyone, including strangers.

She knows to sit on her carpet square. She warms up along with the teacher. Kids with Down syndrome are very flexible so it is a riot to watch them stretch their muscles. DD spreads her legs into center splits and then flops her chest completely to the ground with no effort. She touches her nose to her knees with ease. The only difficult part of the warm up is when the class has to jump. DD hasn't mastered this skill yet so she goes up on tip-toe and then bends her knees and tries again.

Today DD managed to make it through the entire dance, participating in every step. She didn't even stop to run around the room in the middle of the practice. I was so proud of her. Part of the dance is to hold up two fingers when the lyrics say "two". It took DD four weeks to master a "two". We practiced every day and she wouldn't give up. Today she proudly held her "two" up and at just the right moment. Aww, small victories!

When we left, she absolutely had to hug everyone once, her teacher twice. She made sure everyone saw that she could "two" with the best of them. At the door, DD princess-waved goodbye to the entire room.

After dance class, we were given instructions for a dance uniform. Off we drove to The Glass Slipper, a dance supply store near her class. We had to special order a leotard as they didn't carry them small enough for DD. We'll purchase the ballet shoes when the leotard comes in. DD was enamored by the sparkly pink tutus by the register and the dance pictures on the wall. She wanted to touch everything silver, gold or glittery.


Today was a very normal, very satisfying dance day. When you get the choice to sit it out or dance......

It is NOT all about me......

I have finally come to the conclusion that taking care of myself is a good thing. I'm not talking about regular appointments at the spa for a massage and facial (although this would be absolutely wonderful.)

I'm talking about a few things that I do just for me. Getting up at 5:40 a.m. to work out. I would rather not get up that early, but it is the only time I can schedule exercise and not have to bring my kids along. I've discovered that having that time to myself in the morning, sharing yoga or a cardio workout with other women in my neighborhood is a good thing. I feel better about myself when I am done.

My hair appointment at the salon is another. Not the cheap by any means. But it is okay to want to look good for my husband. It is okay to want to look good for myself.

Third would have to by my book club. I go out w/out DH or kids and let someone else cook dinner. The evening is full of conversation, debate, and (depending on the restaurant) really good food. DH loves book club night. He spends some Daddy time with the kids (along with a pizza, movie and game). He knows that I will come home happy, refreshed and relaxed. Not to mention it is nice to have new ideas to discuss with him. Real adult conversation. The very best part.

Why did it take me so long to finally understand this idea? When I take care of myself it is not all about me. A woman's choices affect everyone around her. Husband, kids, extended family, friends......a woman is naturally a nurturer. The energy it takes to be a nuturer is tremendous. If science could bottle it up it would solve the world energy crisis.

Hey, here is an idea. In order to solve the world energy crisis we need to eradicate mom-guilt. Forget these t-shirts I see young hotties wearing that say "It's All About Me". I'm going to market a t-shirt that says "It's NOT All About Me". Only moms can buy them.

Dr. Scarehair is now in....

The 14 Days of Valentines are now over. Those who participated this year found great results. One girlfriend received her first piece of jewelry (other than her wedding ring) in 14 years from her husband. Another received flowers for the first time. A third has a date with her husband this weekend - its the first date in years. About time, don't you think? I know I am preaching to the choir here, but......treat your man like a king and he will want to slay dragons for you.

But now that the 14 DOV are over, does that mean we go back to life as normal? No. Absolutely not. I have hidden 14 red, pink and white note cards all over. In them are love poems, sonnets, song lyrics or book quotes. Each envelope is addressed to DH is a way that gives a hint as to what is inside (The one addressed to "My Snugglebunny" has the quote "I love you all the way to the moon....and back!") He has found 5 of them (and last night he read aloud the Shakespeare sonnet in his best Winston Churchhill voice). I am banking on the idea that it will take him a full year to find all 14. If he finds them before 12 months are up, I have more of the same cards stashed away to hide around the house, his car, and I will even sneak into his office at work. I might even come up with some original poetry. Ah, the things I will do for my man. Mr. Wild Thing, you make my heart sing. You make everything groooovy.

An added benefit to this experiment. My sons have been watching the activities of the past two weeks. It has been giving them ideas. I want my sons to learn to be romantic. Their wives shouldn't have to train them. (BTW, I didn't train my husband. Neither did his parents. He was naturally born a romantic. See, it can happen.)

On the 14 Days of Valentine's my true love sent to me......

Now that the tune is stuck in your head, it is time to educate the masses on the 14 Days of Valentines. This is a tradition that I do for my Dear Husband (who will now be referred to as DH)every single Valentine's.

Each day of the first two weeks of February has a gift associated with that number. The idea being that creativity is more valued than commercialism (although commercialism cannot be entirely ignored). Some days have the same theme year after year, i.e. "On the 4th day of Valentines" is always a picture of our 4 children for DH's desk at work. This year it was a lovely pic taken by a professional photographer showing our children's true personalities. Each of them had pulled a silly/disgusting/scary/laughing face. On day #5 the gift is always fudge: at a local fudge shop, if you buy 4-1/4 lb. kinds of fudge you get the 5th 1/4 lb for free. Day #10 is always "Ten Things I Love About You" (it doesn't always list the same things).

Some days are original every year. This year day #6 resulted in a silly poem commemorating the fact that DH moved from New Zealand to America when he was 6 years old (so he could meet me, fall in love with me, marry me, all about me). Day #3 this year fell on date night so I wrapped up two movie tickets and a box of Redvines. Day #11 will be an 11-piece puzzle with an original sentiment.

DH feels loved. Oh boy, is he smothered in sentimental-sweet-love. And he loves it. For two whole weeks he gets the full treatment. It all ends on the big V-day where we put the kids to bed early and I make him a gourmet candle-lit supper for two. There is just one problem. This year somebody (who obviously wasn't thinking) planned the annual Cub Scout Blue-and-Gold Banquet on Valentine's day. 20 VERY LOUD boys. Silly cheers. And hotdogs.........Where is the romance in this? What were they thinking?! Somebody needs to be taught about the 14 Days of Valentines so this so-very-important-holiday will have much more meaning to them.

I have informed DH that he will not eat anything at the scouting activity. To make sure of this, on Day #2 I presented DH with 2 red tapered candles along with a beautifully printed menu of our upcoming V-day Dinner: Wild Rice Crab Cakes over Field Greens; Beef Tournedos with Seared Scallops, Garlic Mashed Potatoes, and Roasted Asparagus in a Browned Butter Balsamic Sauce; Fresh Berry Creme Brulee.

I don't think refusing the hotdogs will be a problem. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.

Teen 'tudes........

Today is the day I officially become the mother of .......a teenager. (You thought I was going to say monster, didn't you? Go on. Admit it. You did!)

While my first born is currently going through the phase I do not fondly call "Teen 'tudes" (that's Teen With Attitude for those of you whose children are too young to go through this yet), for the most part he is a good kid all around. This term he pulled straight A's in school, say's "Yes, Ma'am" and "Yes, Sir" (a throwback to my paternal southern roots) and has never made me thoroughly ashamed of his behavior (although he has made me embarrassed a number of times).

There is one part of him that I am the most proud about. My youngest has Down syndrome. When she was first born, a friend of his came over and asked "What is Down syndrome?" I opened my mouth to give what I thought was then a good 3rd grade explanation when Dear Son #1 (hereafter referred to as DS#1) stood up and lectured. "Actually it is called Nondisjunction Trisomy 21. That means the 21st chromasome has 3 instead of 2. Doctors don't know why this happens. Its not Mom or Dad's fault. It means that a person with Down syndrome takes longer to learn things. But they can learn to do anything we do......." I was floored! DS#1 had been reading my textbooks. I had worried how this would affect my kids. DS#1 proved that they would be just fine.

Fast forward to a year later. We were at a BBQ with other families in our Down syndrome community. One of the families there (who had a new baby with DS) also had their oldest daughter who had Rhett syndrome. I don't know all of the terminology for that syndrome. This sweet girl (I'll call her Sweetgirl) was the same age as DS#1. She was in a wheel chair, couldn't talk or feed herself. Mentally and physically, she was a baby.
I was sitting by her grandma (who came for the express purpose of taking care of this girl so her parents could relax and meet other families). We were talking about this and that while watching all of my boys play volleyball with the men. The ball went wild, smacked Sweetgirl in the chest and landed in her lap. DS#1 ran up to us. He didn't look at the grandma or at me. He looked straight at Sweetgirl and said "Wow! Nice catch! Are you okay?" Sweetgirl laughed at him. DS#1 asked if she wanted to play, grandma said they would just watch, and DS#1 grabbed the ball and ran back to the game. Every few minutes he would wave at Sweetgirl and she followed him with her eyes for the rest of the evening. Her grandma turned to me with tears in her eyes. She had never seen anyone Sweetgirl's age react to her without cringing. Most kids her age were intimidated by the wheelchair, the drooling, or the baby noises Sweetgirl made. This was the first time she had witnessed her granddaughter's acceptance by a peer. And her granddaughter loved it.

Now my DS#1 is a teen. I have been told horror stories by parents in the neighborhood, their stories based on their own experiences. But I know something they don't. DS#1 is planning his Eagle Scout project to benefit our local Down syndrome community. He has tutored kids with ADHD in his first year of middle school. He wants to learn ASL as soon as he can.

We're still dealing with the brotherly fighting. DS#1 doesn't clean the kitchen (or bathroom or his bedroom) to my standards yet. He has a few other faults. But they are few - we can deal with the Teen 'tudes. Happy birthday, my firstborn. You're a keeper.

It's all about the food....

I have been accused by my darling children that I do not decorate enough for the holidays the way the rest of the neighborhood does. I do not have Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, 4th of July, Pioneer Day or Thanksgiving Day decorations in my storage. I have one token wood-sign-on-a-stake for Halloween and I only decorate the tree and the room it is housed in for Christmas.

Apparently my kids have forgotten a few things. Who makes an entirely green dinner for St. Patricks Day (and has to choke it down because certain things just shouldn't be green, like milk)? Who put together the neighborhood Pioneer Day BBQ as well as the neighborhood Halloween Party and Chili Cookoff? Who makes traditional Chinese Food for Chinese New Year? Who gets up early to make the traditional St. Lucia breakfast every December 13th? Grandma's swedish cruellers for Christmas Eve. Caramel Sticky Rolls for Christmas morning. Black-eyed peas for New Year's Day. Chile Verde for Cinco de Mayo. Mounds of sugar cookies for the day after Thanksgiving. Dyed eggs for Easter (and deviled eggs, egg salad sandwiches, and any other recipe for hard-boiled eggs I can find). Favorite foods for a child's birthday. A romantic Valentine's Day dinner at home (okay, that one doesn't count because the kids aren't invited to that one.)

My point being: Holidays at this house are not about decoration, they are about the food.

Most important to me, though, is what I do for my family daily. My table is decorated with a nice tablecloth and cloth napkins just the way my southern grandmother does her table. The children are taught to set the table properly. I cook healthy meals using whole foods the way my mother taught me. I grow a garden the way my pioneer-heritaged grandma taught me, and put up the produce for the winter months. One night a week, one of my boys practices his cooking skills or learns a new recipe by my side. Six nights a week my family sits down together for supper. In this day and age I consider that no small accomplishment. I'm proud of that.

So I don't decorate. I can live with that. Now I am off to accomplish our Monday tradition: Family Home Evening Treat (which tonight, by the way, will be Caramel Apple Cake with whipped cream.)