First, early in the week while out with my three boys, minding my own business, trying to keep them from antagonizing each other and screaming too loudly in public, I noticed a woman watching us. All you moms that have kids with Down syndrome know what I'm talking about. I smiled at her, not yet sure if she was a friend or foe of Ds.
Turns out she wasn't looking at Bean. She was looking at me. And wondering about my age. "Are these your boys?" she asked. I told her yes, to which she replied, "They are so young. You must have started late, huh?"
Uhhh, yes, I guess I did. Thank you very much, perfect stranger, for pointing that out.
And then, this afternoon, walking through the parking lot of the grocery store, again, minding my own business, a man two steps behind me said, "whatchyou so stressed about?"
Looking around, wondering who he was talking to, I raised my eyebrows. Pardon?
He went on, "I said, whatchyou so stressed about. You sure got lotsa gray hair. How'd you get that? What's got you so stressed out?"
Seriously? Seriously? Did this man really just say that to me? I wanted to stop dead in my tracks and tell him what has given me each and every gray hair so I could enjoy his stunned silence and hopefully teach him to keep his thoughts to himself. But instead I chuckled and gave him some inane answer about it either being my boys or genetics.
What is it that makes people say such things to perfect strangers? If you know, please, fill me in.
On the flip side, I have received a very nice compliment recently. I received it right here in the blogosphere. From Cheryl of Ruby's Life.
She bestowed upon me an award. The "lovey award."
What is the lovey award? Here is the description I lifted from her site.
"These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find friends and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. (although it seems a little self-aggrandizing that I am even posting this, no?) Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships will be propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. "
I'm touched, Cheryl! Thanks so much.
I'm supposed to pass this along to others but. . . I am not going to do that. Chain letters always ended with me too.
I will, however, share with you some of the blogs I enjoy reading regularly. Check them out when you have time.
Confessions of a Pioneer Woman - I have been reading Ree's blog for at least two years now. When I found her she received around 3-400 comments a day. Now she receives thousands upon thousands. Check her out and you will see why.
C Jane and NieNie are sisters. They are mormon and speak about their faith often. That is not what I find fascinating. I enjoy C Jane's tongue in cheek writing style and her sister Nie, well, you need to read through her archives to learn her story. It is heartbreaking and hope filled all at the same time.
ivy mae - I know this gal from our years in Florida. She and her husband now live in Charleston, SC. I love reading about all her projects from the kitchen to the garden to sewing and knitting. She writes with wit and throws in great stories about her high school literature students. Oh and her husband, Mr. Mae, is the photographer. Great team.
The Meanest Mom - Great and hysterical take on parenting and mothering.
not that you asked - this is the only blogger on my list that has a child with Down syndrome. (though there are tons out there that I read and enjoy) I like reading Beth because she is thoughtful, honest, and humble. She almost always makes me think. Maybe I like her because some of the things she wrestles with regarding the world of disabiltiy and down syndrome I relate to, and it makes me feel not so alone.
And then, he was ready. . .
And then there was Disney. Each boy gets his trip to Disney once he has turned six. So, while in Florida, Spinner got his long awaited trip. He loved every minute of it.
Hope you all are having a good Spring!!
When no one else has the answers, when there is no one else to turn to, you are there. And you have the answers. You not only give me the answers but you calm me down and give me step by step instructions to fix what ails me, or my house, as the case may be.
Like the time when I needed to know how to get permanent marker off my kitchen table. You were a wealth of information. You gave me several options to undo the damage my littlest spawn created.
Or like the time when Bean and Tank, led, no doubt, by Tank, tipped over my grandmother's antique pie crust table so many times that it lost almost all of it's "crust." You instructed me, you encouraged me, you taught me about wood glue. Sadly, the tipping continued and the crust came off again. But now I know how to fix it. And I will, when they are grown and out of the house.
Or like the time you gave me tips on getting greasy peanut butter out of the carpet. Tank was very pleased with himself. He was finger painting, you see. Getting the peanut butter off the hardwood floors, door frames, and pantry shelves was a piece of cake. I handled that fine. But the carpet? That was a whole different ball game. But you came to my aid and helped me get the job done.
And then there was today. When moments, and I mean moments, after James and I decided to place our house on the market I wandered into the guest room to find this:
A brand new bottle of Elmer's glue, open, on it's side, and empty, the contents absorbed into the carpet. My first instinct, after I panicked, was to get a wet rag and rub. I should never act on my first instinct. It was a big ole' gloppy mess.
Then, I remembered. My friend the Internet will surely know how to help me. And true to form you were there. You told me not to worry, that it will come up, and gave me only three steps to get the job done.
It took some time. But you did not fail me.
So, thank you dear Internet! Thank you for your consistency and faithfulness and for always being there to keep my home from becoming the disaster it's young residents seem intent on making it.
since I got a good, solid, wake-up-feeling-refreshed night's sleep. Just when I think it might happen, when the boys are tucked in early and all is quiet, when I, too, am settled in at a reasonable hour and already experiencing the bliss of nocturnal goodness, something like this happens. (could i have possibly used more comma's in that last sentence? i am sure they are all misplaced, too. stop your shuttering kim)
Spinner's door opens. He has been asleep a good 4 -5 hours by now. His attempt to be quiet does not work and I wake, though, admittedly, it doesn't take much to wake me.
Bean starts screaming because Spinner woke him leaving the room.
I ignore it all in an attempt to drift back to sleep and hope they will do the same.
Then I realize that Spinner did not exit the bathroom and can see the stream of light coming down the hall. I elbow James and beg him to check on him. I'm thoughtful like that. That's when I heard the crying.
I make my way to the bathroom thinking we had another sick kid on our hands. Thankfully we did not. We just had a sleep deprived, confused, possessed, kid on our hands.
Spinner is standing in the middle of the bathroom crying and crying, head hung, face read, lips wet with drool. James tries to talk with him but is only met with blank stares.
Me: I think he's asleep, James.
James: No, he's not asleep.
Me: Spinner, what's wrong? why are you crying?
Spinner: stares blankly
James: Spinner, you have to talk to us so we know why you are crying. Are you sick?
Spinner: I don't know.
Me: Does something hurt?
Me: Did you have an accident in bed?
James: Did you have a nightmare?
Still crying. . .
Me: Can you tell me what you are feeling, Spinner?
Okay, now we're getting somewhere.
Me: What is making you sad?
Spinner: I feel sad when you guys send me off places.
What the heck is he talking about?
Me: Are you afraid we're going to send you somewhere?
Spinner: tears still falling, Yes.
Me: Where, Spinner, where are you afraid we will send you?
Oh, of course. James and I exchange a glance, trying not to laugh.
Me: Oh honey, I promise we will not send you to Africa. Can we all go back to bed now?
Spinner: wiping his eyes, Okay.
And no, we have no clue what this was about. But then that's not unusual.
pastor j's blog
our church plant
- ► 2010 (35)
- ▼ April (5)
- ► 2008 (143)