Another Jesse moment

We were driving in the car, on the way to the library, Jesse was in the front; Andy and the 3 littles were in the back 2 rows.
We were talking and he was saying the funniest things....So I say, "You are so funny"
To which he replies.....
"No Mom, I COOL .....YOU are funny!"

Self-Esteem, Family, Normalcy..etc

I had an email, from a mom today, expressing her concern and fear for her 6 year old daughter. SL is in Kindergarten this year and really has no friends. She has no playmates, no birthday party invites, no sleepover pals. SL has a 14 year old sister whom had some learning issues and is in the same predicament as far as friends. I have known this mom since SL was 2 days old. I would not call us friends but we chat often. We have very different opinions on kids, family and "special needs". MamaC is considering cosmetic surgery for SL. Their ENT has suggested it will give SL better self-esteem if she doesn't "look different." Really? OMG, this is so obscene to even think about. Maybe the fact that the girls have always been in "segregated" classrooms plays a part in their feeling "different." You know "life-skills" or as a K student, in a "disabilities K class." My kids have always been in regular-ed classrooms. No part-day here, no "This will better meet their needs." Just my opinion but it is my blog.

I raise my sons as I would any child, as I was raised. They go to school, play sports, participate in community and church activities, visit friends, have playdates, make their beds, set the table and other chores. The older boys help with younger willingly and with love. We all sit down at the same table, at the same time to share in meals and conversation. We pray together. We are a family.

To our family there is normalcy in being different. So you get no brownie points for having Down syndrome per se. I'd say they all have great self-esteem. Just ask them if they like themselves.

Aren't we all different.... all unique?
Truth be told... break it down, more alike than different.

My kids were all born with an extra chromosome, four on their 21st pair, and Alexi with interspersed extra's. They can be considered different, but in a way that society for way too long has deemed 'different', as in bad, wrong, abnormal, as not worthy of life, or if alive, tucked away, "out of sight, out of mind'.....a different that is slowly changing, but still riddled with stereo-types and negative assumptions. These 'assumptions', 'stereo-types', 'biases'......are not a healthy way to look at another human being.

Fortunately, most people who have met my kids can look past the labels and see what beautiful, charming, and mischievous boys they are. Any of us keep friendships with people who are interested and respectful of us. My sons are no different, though they need a little push in this direction as they are, at times, too patient and forgiving. Friends embrace us as ourselves and not as Down syndrome, blue-eyed/brown-eyed, blonde/brunette, tall/short, old/young, liberal/conservative (well maybe).

We cannot, nor would we want to, befriend the whole world.

Jesse has the best friends anyone could ask for and always has, from kindergarten on. They love him for who he is, for his abilities, his love of life, his "let's try it" attitude, and his incredible self-esteem. No matter the valley he may be in at the moment, Jesse always sees the brightness of the day ahead.

Andy loves himself as much as he loves others. He truly lives the "love yourself before you can love another" cliche. And who wouldn't love this guy?

Maxim is still learning whom he is. He can be loud and boisterous and then in a moment quiet and concerned. Both are Maxim and both are joyous. He thinks he deserves it all... and you know what? He does.

Alexi is introspective and calm in this always chaotic lovable family. In quiet moments you can see Alexi reading a book, sitting by the floor mirror... smiling at himself. Oh yes, this boy knows how beautiful and remarkable he is.

Niky "the baby" is and has been the one everyone fawns over.... I am guilty as well. Taking a step back, he is very aware so like Andy. That smile and giggle... it is obvious he is a happy happy boy.

Total, 100% BOY

Maxim Noah-William Block, aka, Boy IN A TREE

El esperar ha terminado or the waiting is done.

My biggest pet peeves are incompetence and things that don’t work. Today I just couldn't help myself. I decided that I had to respond to things and people that irritate me. I’ve spent too much time in my life just trying to glide around idiotic and rude things.

Today I slipped on my "Mom from Hell boots," as Jon always referred to them. You know, black leather, up to here, stiletto, pointed toe. For those of you who have ever been to an IEP meeting for your kids, I'm sure you understand, always wear the "Mom from Hell" boots. These are kick-*^s. This is not a good day for the my oldest son's Orthopedist, who thought nothing of keeping us sitting in his waiting room for 2 1/2 hours after our scheduled appointment time.

“Doctor is very busy.” said the receptionist. I hate when receptionists call the doctor “Doctor”. Call him/her “Dr. Whatever” or “the doctor”, but not just “Doctor”. I don’t know why, but it drives me insane.

Well, you know what, tell Doctor that so am I. Mind you I had all 5 kids there in the waiting room.

She wouldn’t and continued on gossiping about her sex life in Spanish with a nurse. I asked her again, in Spanish this time, to find out how much longer we were going to have to wait. Her face turned bright red. What? You’ve never heard of a white girl that speaks Spanish? Not perfect but my Mama would have been proud.

We didn’t just walk in there demanding to be seen. We had an appointment for 10:15 which "Doctor" himself scheduled because he wanted to see Jesse and check his scoliosis. It was now 12:45. How long are we supposed to be expected to wait? Maybe next time I’ll just show up whenever I feel like it. I’m busy, too. I have a house, 5 sons and enough appointments between schools, therapists, pediatricians and 8 specialists to require 2 full-time staff.... but it's just me. Never once have I kept any of them waiting for me for two and a half hours.

Needless to say..... I also said I was not "keeping the little ones quiet or in their stroller any longer......... " ; who would have thought that within 3 minutes we were in the exam room and 10 minutes later there was the doctor. Duh. "Doctor" was profusely apologetic when I relayed the story to him. He apparently had no idea what was transpiring in his waiting room. Hmmm?

Maybe from now on everyone can just show up whenever they feel like it as does the phone Doctor. Paramedics, police officers, firemen, soldiers....whoever. Doesn’t matter. They’ll get to you when they get to you, no biggie. Just sit back down,shut up and read some old magazines until they’re good and ready to get there. Or, we could just always turn our kids loose.

Flying and the unknown Seat Mate

Car rental - check. Airline tickets - check. Well, mostly “check,” anyway. All my airline miles are on Delta and Lufthansa..... requiring a plane change if going East to West. So, after doing some online research, I settled on flying United, using a relatives miles... trade. It was significantly cheaper than American, for when I wanted to go (no red eye flights). Only problem was, by the time I booked tickets, I couldn’t get two rows of three seats each anymore. So I settled on a row of three in the middle of the plane, and 2 across; theoretically leaving an unknown person to sit next to one of my children.

The pre-flight plans made sense; I would sit in the row of three with Max and Alexi, Niky as a lap baby. Jesse and Andy would sit across from me with the “unknown traveler.” Fair enough!

The guy that sat next to the older boys, wouldn’t stop talking, had B.O. and bad breath, and - to top it off - was a slightly scary retired Sp Ops. I put Jesse with Max and Alexi and took his seat. This guy wouldn’t stop talking, leaning too close for comfort, despite such nonverbal cues such as looking out the window and flipping through the SkyMall magazine. Making matters worse, scary Sp Ops guy had bad breath and B.O., and fervently believed in a couple of very weird conspiracy theories. He has proof, you see, but he cannot divulge too much as it gets into heavily guarded State secrets, and you never know who’s listening.
Nothing seemed to work.......... ahh my Andy. He started reading. He reads loudly. YES.

I looked at my kids. They were happily playing with their cars and trucks, Jesse and Andy listening to their IPODs and laughing, getting along with and caring for each other.

Scary Sp Ops guy got up and was in the aisle. He pulled a flight attendant into his orbit, using his arms and hand to gesticulate wildly as he continued, midway through a story about Clinton and Ghana and how.................. blah, blah, blah.

Several women at church were asked why they quilted. Most of them said that not only did it keep the missionaries warm, but it kept them sane. One elderly lady said the following.

“If I’da known how many dishes I was gonna have to wash for the rest of my life, I’da laid down and died right then.”

And she probably had to tote her own water from the crik and heat it over an open fire. Bless her. I cannot count the number of times I have called someone, my friends, to help me get through the newest batch of dishes or laundry or errands. It passes the time. I get my work done AND am happy when I hang up the phone having shared a little time with them while doing something that needed to be done.

There are many who disparage and poke fun at women’s past times–quilting, blogging, scrapbooking, book clubs, and most definitely our bathroom pack visitation ritual. But for generations, women have found ways to be together, to help shoulder the load of being all things to all people.... especially the people under her very own roof. Women need companionship.

I’m not saying that men and children don’t, please, don’t get me wrong. I have known many widowers who could barely keep themselves fed, but came back to life after marrying again. I know from my kids adoptions (and working) about the irreparable damage done to children who have never had human touch. I’m just saying that, though I’m sure there have been some,
I have not EVER heard of a female hermit. Even Emily Dickinson lived with her sister as her companion and would lower baskets of treats and drawings to the children who visited her window. I also know that there are times when women’s cliques cause damage that is far reaching, but that is not the norm of every day friendships.

A dear Aunt and Uncle of mine live in Torrington, WY. There is a very small museum there.... only open certain hours of certain days of the week. But it chronicled the lives of pioneers who settled the land. There are farm implements, and articles of clothing, household items and souveniers for sale. But the thing I found the most interesting was a photo that was on the wall.

It was a picture of a pioneer family outside their sod house. The father was in a chair. There were several children of varying ages gathered around. There was a cow on the roof of their “house.” And over to the right stood the mother. And next to the mother was a bird cage. The caption below said that during pioneer days, the women would be left alone for days on end while husbands ventured to town for supplies or out to take care of livestock and the like. The constant wailing of the wind, keeping house under ground, watching after children who could and did die for several reasons, worrying about whether and when her husband would come home, and the constant threat of Indian attack drove many women insane. The midwest was dotted with asylums for women who had literally lost their minds. Until someone discovered that what women needed was a companion, and a parakeet was just the right size. It didn’t eat much. It sang a pretty tune. It was a touch of beauty in an otherwise dismal world. The parakeet was a prized possession of many pioneer women.

As much as we like to hole ourselves away in our houses, under our covers with our books and babies about us, there are times when we just need another female. A companion with two X chromosomes to whom we may voice our opinions, uncertainties, insecurities, great bargain finds, new recipes, successes, or just the minute details of our day good or bad. Someone who will tell us that our new outfit is just the right color. Someone who will tell us that our husbands or lovers are acting immature. Someone who will tell us that WE are acting immature. We need friends in all shapes, sizes, and ages, and we need one or two that know pretty much everything there is to know about us.

There are songs and poems and books about the God shaped hole in all of us....... the hole that only God can fill. There are also lots of songs and poems and books about spousal relationships and how to raise our children. They are all wonderful and good.

But there are friend shaped holes in all of us too. There is a place in us, that can only be touched and appreciated by a friend who is female. I have friends that are older than me–old enough, in fact, to be my mother. One of them IS my mother. I have friends who are younger than me...... girls I’ve met and mentored who now seek my opinion on things, and flatter me with their company.

God knew what he was doing when he made us creatures who need companionship. And he blesses us by giving us all different types of relationships we need.

And, above all, I can say without reservation that I am a woman who has been blessed beyond measure by all of the women who mean so much to me.

Friday Five Favorites

OK, more than 5 this week

Gingham. . .loved it since I was a very little girl

Homemade fresh peach ice cream

Hugs from my kids

A job completed

Guiltless naps with the little ones surrounding me

Knowing there are no appointments for tomorrow

Creating something beautiful

Birds eating and singing in our yard

Having something good to look forward to cooking for dinner

A Starbucks double tall breve decaf latte

Hearing Niky and Jesse giggle together

Thursday night (’cause it's Greys)

A good conversation with a girlfriend

A good laugh