First of all, how do you like that outfit? It's a t-shirt over a footed sleeper. See, we are having to get creative with our little streaker. He simply will not keep his clothes on once placed in his crib. Last week after we put him down for a nap, he stripped every thread of clothing from his body and tossed them around the room. Including his diaper. Which means that he slept naked. Which means that we had a real mess on our hands - well, on Wil's body, his sheets, quilt, crib, and yes, even the wall - when he woke. I'll spare you the rest.


You're welcome.


Those of you that have kids with special needs might understand what I am about to say. While soaking Wil in the tub, stripping his bed, loading laundry, wiping down his crib and walls, I was quietly smiling. We didn't simply have a stinky mess on our hands. We had a new skill. Wil is undressing himself! This means that his fine and gross motor skills are improving. His coordination is improving. His balance is improving. This means that he is on his way to becoming a little more independent.


Up to this point we have been changing his clothes, without his assistance. Partly because we seem to always be in hurry for fear that one of the other two will destroy something while we are with Wil and partly because it's just become habit, it's easier. But after the nap incident and learning that he has been working on this skill at school we realized that we should be giving Wil this responsibility at home. Every time we change clothes. Tonight, while getting Wil ready for bed, James asked him to take his shirt off. And he promptly did so. We cheered and hollered and he looked at us like we were crazy.


Wil's progress is obvious. Mine is that I am willing to give a little extra time, and risk a mess, in order to allow Wil to do more for himself. I am paying attention to the small things, like undressing or using a spoon or giving him more time at the table, and delighting in those moments rather than feeling stressed by them. Well, I am me. The stress is still there, but I am trying! Maybe by the time they are all grown I will have lightened up a little. Maybe.


And on the medical front. . . after months of sickness and three rounds of antibiotics we are off to the ENT. Chances are good that Wil is going to need his adenoids removed. If that will clear him up then I am all for it! That will be a cake walk compared to heart surgery!!

Our eldest has committed his first crime. And then he lied about it, thus committing a second crime against us.

Friday he came barreling in from school, out of breath from running the last block, to show me the rock he found. He pulled it out of his pocket with great delight and a twinkle in his eye and held it proudly in the palm of his hand.

"Look what I found!"

"Wow, Luke, look at that. Where did you find it?

"I just found it." He was being extra silly and fidgety which was my first clue that something was up.

"I understand you found it - I'm just wondering where? I have never seen a rock like that around here." You see, the rock appeared to have nuggets of gold sprinkled throughout - it was dazzling and shimmery.

"Mom, I don't know, I just did." As he spun around and tried to change the subject.

"Okay, Luke, I am having a hard time believing that you found this rock around here. You need to tell me the truth."

Turning to James, who walked him home from school, "Dad, remember when I was walking behind you? That's when I found it."

"Where Luke? On the sidewalk?"

"Moooommm, I just found it." Then the lips start to quiver as the head drops. His spidey senses have kicked in and he knows I am onto him.

"Luke, I am going to give you one more opportunity to tell me the truth."

"Will I get in trouble?" And there it is. We have moved on to negotiating his punishment before he has even confessed.

James and I, at once, reaching the end of our patience, ask in unison "Where. Did. You. Get. The rock!"

"I accidentally took it from the science lab. I just put it in my pocket and forgot it was there."

Let me stop at this point to let everyone know that my father, Luke's Papa, is the Head Honcho of Safety and Security for our school district. And everyone at Luke's school knows that Luke is Capt. McGee's grandson. Nice.

So after a bit more discussion Luke is told that he cannot go to the pool that afternoon. The wailing and screaming commence and he is sent to his room where we hear him just as clearly as if he were standing in front of us. Then, he abruptly stops, opens the door, and with a clear voice says, "did you call me, mom?" No, Luke. And the wailing continues. I'd bet a gold rock there were no tears.

Later, Luke tells us that he had big plans for that rock. He was going to chip away at it until he got to the center because he was certain there was something really great inside. I suppose we could applaud the "life skill" (see yesterday's post) of curiosity but petty thievery and lying (creative as it might get) trump an inquisitive mind.

I think Luke's days of crime are over, however. He just doesn't have the stomach for it. He wrote a note of apology on Saturday and anguished all weekend over facing his teacher.

James walked him into his classroom this morning to make sure the rock was returned and to support Luke as he confessed. Luke first approached the assistant teacher and offered his confession, "I stole this rock and want to return it. I'm sorry." To which she responded, "Oh honey, you didn't steal it you just borrowed it." WHAT?! Really? Did she just say that? James bent down to quietly correct this and encouraged Luke to go speak with his lead teacher. Poor kid, had to repeat those painful words. His teacher acknowledged it was wrong then thanked him for returning the rock and told him that by doing so he was practicing the life skill of responsibility.

And that was that. I have to say, it was a totally cool rock.