Within Reach

I have always said that I never liked teenagers, even when I was one.  I'm regretting that statement now.  I guess you could say it was a little over dramatic.  Not that I regularly tend towards the over dramatic...OK, maybe a little.

But now my oldest child is a teenager, and I think that statement, among others, is causing problems around here.  So I would like to set the record straight:  I do like teenagers.  I mean, they are people after all, and I like people.

I think I am just having a problem letting go of my little boy.  It sounds weird to say that because my little boy has been a pretty independent kid for quite sometime.  He was riding his bike to school with friends by second grade.  And all through elementary school, he wouldn't even let me see his homework because he was afraid I might try to help him with it, and he "didn't need help!"  (He really didn't.  He's as smart as a whip.)  And he swore he never missed me when he came home from week long camping trips.

Where has the little boy gone that had to be returned to me early when his grandparents took him on a vacation to Colorado?  Where is the boy that insisted he would buy the house right next door to us and take me on his honeymoon because he wanted to be with me always?  He is right here.  At this very moment, he is asleep in our basement.  And, I think that is what makes it all so very hard.  He is still here.  I have approximately 3.7 years until he packs up and leaves.  But it feels like he is not my little boy anymore.  He is becoming his own person.

And yet, he will always be mine.  I read something this morning in some random place that had nothing to do with children or teenagers and I started to cry.  It said:  "Just because something is no longer within your reach doesn't mean it's no longer yours."  The author spoke of keeping pieces of our lives in our hearts.

It is what I need to do.  I need to keep the pieces close.  The pieces that he doesn't remember, or remembers differently.  The pieces that we share.  I need to know that it is OK that things are changing because that is how things are supposed to be.  I need to be here for him like I was when he was first learning to walk.  After letting go of my fingers and taking those first steps, his range widened every day as he toddled away and back again.  I read somewhere that it is what toddlers do.  They check back in with their parents often as they explore the world around them. We are their reassurance, their safety.  I need to remind myself that he is not gone, his range has just widened and will get wider still, but I hope he will always check back.  I hope Kimball knows he will always find love and acceptance here...and laughter and comfort and someone who has loved him since before he can remember.  Someone who hopes that even if we aren't close enough to physically touch, we will always be within reach. 

 

Thank You Wild Kratts!



At any given moment, Isaac is pretending to be something.  This morning it was a leopard.

While I was helping him get ready for school, he was giving me a hard time, so I informed him he must be full of spit and vinegar today.  Whenever I say anything about vinegar, he knows I usually follow it up with lots of tickling.  Don't ask me what it means.  I got it from my Grandma Glissmeyer.  Us kids were always full of vinegar and were in need of a good tickle when she was around.  Anyway...this morning Isaac threw up his hands and said, "No, don't get me.  I'm just an innocent mammal."

Big words for a kid that couldn't even say 'Dad' until he was four.  I decided to find out if he knew what he was talking about.  I quizzed him on animal classification.  Snake?  Penguin?  Frog?  Correct.  Correct.  Correct.

Apparently, even though he can't be bothered to remember what that shape is called that has three sides and three angles, he has his animal classifications down pat.  Thank you Wild Kratts!

A Typical Summer Evening

It was nice to sit on the deck at Poppy's house last night.  The sun had set.  The smoke from the High Park fire was billowing in a different direction and the evening was dimming to night.  An outline of a crane waded in the water at the edge of the lake while we chatted and laughed at Josie spraying our dachshund, Wilma, with a water gun to help her cool off.  Then, a small light was spotted in the distance, traveling across the sky.  Rudolph was mentioned, and Donner, of course.  Isaac declared that we all must sing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer together and so we did.  We sang of a foggy Christmas Eve as we sat in the fading heat of a lovely June day...you know, like anybody might do on a typical summer evening.

Distance

For some reason I think this may sound horrible.  I hope it doesn't.

Today I sat in the van with the windows open and read a book while Josie and Isaac played at a small neighborhood park nearby.  I did not get out and play with them.  As my little sister used to say when she was three years old, I just "couldn't want to."

The day was bright.  The weather perfect.  I was close enough to hear them laugh, but I couldn't hear if Josie was bossing Isaac around or if Isaac was calling Josie names.  I watched Isaac push Josie on the swing and follow her to the van when she hurt her finger.  Band-Aid in place, I watched them run back to the park and heard them whoop with delight.

My heart felt so full of gratitude for them, for the blessing they are in my life.  I'm sorry to say, it's a gratitude that has been lacking lately.  But watching them from that distance let me appreciate how small and young they are.  Ten minutes in which no demands passed from me to them, or from them to me made a huge difference for me today.

A Smile is Never Far Behind

So, apparently, my last blog was a bit of a tear jerker for some people in my family.  Therefore, I would like to make sure I share a smile with everyone.  Because, although I believe it's OK to cry, I also believe a smile is never far behind.

Isaac has been doing some wonderful things this week.  First, he is talking up a storm.  I mean really talking and being understood by more people.  We saw one great benefit of this on Saturday as I was leaving to drop Kimball off to work at a friends house for the day.  I heard some noises that indicated to me that Isaac was playing under our end table in the living room.  His voice sounded as though he was playing pretend and gabbering away as he does.  When suddenly I heard a faint, "I'm stuck."  Then, I heard it again.  I stopped at the door and turned back.

"Are you really stuck, Isaac?" I asked.

"Yes.  I"m stuck.  I need help."

Whoa!  You cannot imagine how many times I have found Isaac stuck somewhere not knowing how to get help.  I was overjoyed as I went to un-stick my living room adventurer, a smile beaming on my face.

Another happy moment came as I was working with Isaac as he made his breakfast.  We have been working on this for a few months now.  When I began the process, I figured the microwave would be the biggest challenge.  I thought maybe I'd have to put stickers on the appropriate buttons.  It turns out the microwave was a cinch.  It was his favorite part, no stickers needed.  The freezer, however, proved very difficult for him to open.  I have him stand on a step stool in front of the cabinets right next to the fridge, that way he can reach a plate and not get knocked over by the freezer door when it opens.  But, because of the positioning he would pull the handle towards himself instead of out.  I figured it would just take a few days for him to unravel that mystery, but he continued to need my one finger, feather of a touch to get the freezer open.  Well, this week we had a break through.  I suggested he grab the freezer door next to the seal with both hands and open it like you or I might open a heavy wall safe that had it's door just slightly ajar.  It worked!  The freezer door swung open.  The safe was cracked and he reached in for his spoils.  His favorite frozen pancakes.  Yippee!  Smiles all around.

Another thing I have gained this week is tons and tons of unsolicited hugs and kisses.  This is a marvelous and very unexpected surprise.  Isaac has been becoming more of a big boy all year and has been less likely to accept or give out these treasures.  Now, he is suddenly on a I-love-my-mommy kick and I am drinking in all in.  It may take us longer to get ready in the morning and my cheeks may be a bit slobbery, but I'm definitely smiling.

Down Syndrome Awareness

Yesterday was World Down Syndrome Day.  A day to promote awareness.  I don't even remember where I learned that.  Probably on facebook.

I was definitely aware of Down syndrome yesterday as I raced to and fro throughout the day, but not because of the label the day has been given.  I was struggling.  Struggling, again, not to be overwhelmed by the challenges Isaac's Down syndrome bring into his life and mine.  I usually try to stay upbeat.  I usually don't even have to try very hard, because, as you can see from the picture, Isaac is absolutely adorable and brings joy beyond expression into my life.  But yesterday things I had been experiencing lately started adding up to feel like a pretty big weight.

Last week,  I went to Omaha and, for various reasons, it ended up being a trip for just Kimball, Josie, and I.  Kimball spent much of his time at the National VEX Robotics Competition (which is good because that was the reason for the trip).  His team came in 14th out of 40, for those of you who were wondering.  Josie and I watched whenever Conrad Ball's robot was in play, but we were left with a lot of down time, so I took Josie and two other little girls to explore Omaha.  We went to the zoo and the children's museum.  We ate at the Pizza Machine (think Chuck E Cheese, but bigger) and we toured the Mormon Trail Center that is next to the Winter Quarters Temple.  We had tons of fun.  I could never have done all that with Isaac in tow.  Or, I could have, but he would have been miserable much of the time.  Many of those places were loud and new, and therefore overwhelming to him.  The robotics competition's low light and loud buzzers would have been especially hard for him to bear.  Half the time, I missed Evan and Isaac as I thought of what their reactions would have been to different things, and the other half I was so grateful I hadn't brought Isaac along that I felt bad about it.

Fast-forward a few days.  I'm helping Isaac with his homework and talking to him about opposites.  He acts like he has not one clue what the word meant.  All I can thing over and over again is--He used to know this!  I suppose it has been awhile since the word "opposite" has been mentioned to him.  I try to shrug it off as we move onto the fun sticker book he gets to do after homework.  But now I see that most of the names of shapes have slipped his mind as well.  At this point, I can feel despair begin to creep around the edge of my consciousness.  I try to push it away, but panic then seems to want to take its place.  Questions dart through my mind:  How can I possible keep him current on everything?  How on earth can I find the time each day to have him count, read, review shapes, and opposites and the hundred other things that I don't even know that he is forgetting?  And how can I possibly add vision therapy to all of this?

The last question is added by some part of my mind that must not be aware of the current fragile state of my emotional health, but is fully aware of the recent recommendation that we add a new therapy to Isaac's schedule.  My mind does that sometimes.  It tries to cram all things dreaded into my thoughts at once, just to see if it can break me.  But, the jokes on it because I don't break and run crying into my room.  I simply feel like giving up.

The morning after that marvelous evening spent trying to refuse to become overwhelmed, I took Isaac to the eye doctor.  The doctor recommended bifocals to try to aid Isaac in his focusing efforts.  His eyes have had such a hard time lately.  I know I should be grateful that we live in this modern time that can provide so many solutions, but I'm not feeling excited that he can be helped.  All I can think is that I hope Isaac doesn't break something as he tries to get used to his new glasses.  I am very worried that he will fall down.  A lot.

Isaac's eye doctor also shared with me that he didn't feel Isaac was a good candidate for vision therapy.  (He really doesn't think it works at all, although I could tell he was only allowed to say that it was controversial and thus far unproven in the scientific world.)  Isaac's OT is recommending he start vision therapy right away.  Both of these people I highly respect, and I take their opinions very seriously.  I am now left to sort out what to do.

I hate vision therapy.  My experience with it while seeking for ways to help Evan with his reading was not good.  At all.  In fact, it is the worst torture I can think to inflict on someone when considering the wide ranges available in the therapy world.  But, if it could work.  If it could help Isaac focus and see better, I would do it in an instant.  His eye doctor said, "It's up to you.  I just try to keep things simple as I consider quality of life verses expense and trouble.  I'm just trying to be scientific."

I told him I agreed with him and felt that considering the quality of the gains that would be made verses the time, expense, and trouble was a smart way to go.  But, as a mother I have one other overwhelming consideration:  guilt.  I have done many things and will continue to do many things simply to keep from feeling guilty.  If vision therapy might help a little, don't I HAVE to try it?

I really don't even know right now.

Yes, I am feeling very aware of Down syndrome right now, which stinks because usually I just like to push that piece to the back burner, enjoy Isaac, and take life as it comes.

It Is Better To Give...

I can't think of the maxim 'It is better to give than to receive' without thinking of my little Evan one day at family night (when he was maybe four years old) trying to finish my prompt "It is better to give..."

I could see Kimball straining not to jump in because I had made it very clear I wanted Evan to answer.  After a moments pause, Evan ventured, "It is better to give than to steal."


Can't argue with that, I guess.


This Valentine's Day it was definitely better to give.  My heart is so full as I think of the lovely experience I had this year with preparation for today.


Just one day ago, I was not looking forward to the final preparations which included helping Isaac ready Valentines to give to his classmates.  This is always a grueling task that I swear I will start the week before so that Isaac doesn't get frustrated and so that I don't give up and just do the whole thing for him.  I mean--it is great, purposeful name writing practice and I have to take advantage of it, right?  Usually Isaac's weak little hands don't last that long, even with me writing all the children's names for him and having him just try to sign his name, but this year...HE WAS AWESOME!  He stuck with me through the whole thing, even insisting that we make additional Valentines for the kids and teachers in this special education class.  It was so much fun!

Usually he needed help with one or more letters each time he wrote his name.  On this one I only helped with the 'S': 

Impressed?  Me too.  But I almost danced with joy when I walked away to get the camera and came back to find this:

Isaac working with no prompting!   I suppose only his teachers and I can fully appreciate it.  But, take a look and the one valentine he signed all by himself:

Yes, the 'a' and 'c' could use some help, but check out that 's'!  I would venture to say that it is the first legible 's' he has ever written independently.  Oh, and subsequently, it is a little green manifestation of hope.  Hope that he will someday be able to master this mundane task that most school children accomplish a dozen times a day with almost no thought.

Keep up the good work, Isaac.  I know you can do it!

A Hallmark Holiday? I Think Not.

This is definitely my favorite Valentine's Day book.

It taught me to appreciate Valentine's Day just in time for me to teach my kids what that special day in mid-February is all about.


Honestly...I'd never been a fan.  For some reason I associated Valentine's Day with couples and romance only, and I really did think some genius at Hallmark must have made the whole thing up.  I worked at Hallmark at one point, and believe me that day was CRAZY!  I'd never have believed it, if I hadn't seen it myself.  I think I saw more guys in the store on that one day than the three previous months combined.  And, they all had this kind of sheepish/desperate look in their eyes.  It screamed, "Help me!  I have no idea what I'm doing here, but I know I'll be in trouble if I don't figure it out."  I felt bad because there was no time to really help them at that point, the store was literally packed, and we were running the registers as fast as we could trying to get them out the door in time for their big date.  Romantic?...No.


For those of you that may have never seen a Little Bill cartoon, he is a preschooler.  In this book, his awesome preschool teacher tells her class that Valentine's Day is your chance to tell all those people you love how you feel.  Little Bill has a lot of homemade Valentine's to give out.  His friends, cousin, parents, siblings, and Elephant, his hamster, all get one with a big smile to go along with it.


When I read this book to Kimball for the first time, I couldn't believe that I'd had such a narrow view of Valentine's Day. It definitely doesn't belonged to Hallmark or the romantics.  It is a sweet reminder to tell all those that bless our lives how we feel about them.

A sticky note on the mirror.  A wall post on fb.  A call.  A hug.  A heartfelt letter.  It doesn't matter.  It's a fun chance to think outside the box of chocolates and spread the love.

Winner

As Kimball puts it, he's had a good competition month.


He and his VEX Robotics team were a part of the 1st place alliance that won in Denver and qualified to go to Nationals in March. (At the VEX competition, the boys had to maneuver a remote controlled robot that they had built and programed themselves to pick up objects and place them in storage hoops.)


Then, to his own amazement, he placed third in the District Spelling Bee and qualified to go to State, also in March.


For me, it felt very surreal watching Kimball win that spelling trophy.  I just can't believe he can spell like that.


I can't spell.  It's one of the two things I often tell people about myself as kind of a disclaimer.  The other one is that I'm directionally impaired.  At least that's what I've always called it.  I get lost very easily, even when I've been somewhere before.  I have to really pay attention to landmarks if I want to get back home after going somewhere new.  When I was earning my degree in Occupational Therapy, I learned the technical term is topographical disorientation.  But, hey, that's harder to spell.


So, on Saturday, I was sweating as the announcer presented Kimball with words like "repertoire" and "muumuu."  But Kimball spelled them with a nonchalance that hid the fact that he hadn't even thought he would pass the 100 word written test that took place earlier in the day.


If his direction sense wasn't so abysmal, I would swear he was switched at birth.


***I would like to thank spell check for making this post possible.

What Makes You Smile?

Everyone in the family knows I love the Foghorn Legghorn Christmas ornament that came with the cute, tough little chicken hawk that dogs his every step.  But what they don't know is the reason why I love it.

It's true that this giant rooster is one of my favorite cartoon characters.  It's also true that I enjoy it because it meets the character-Christmas-tree-ornament criteria that I hardly ever bend on:  To be hung on our Christmas tree the character that has been made into an ornament must also have something on it to identify it with Christmas.  No Star Wars ships or Super Hero Squad guys that simply look cool, but have no candy canes, presents, bows, etc stuck somewhere to let us know that this was made especially for Christmas.  (I still cringe whenever I catch a glimpse of the Broncos ornament Kimball somehow talked me into when he was in fourth grade.  I know some of you cringe to even think of a character ornament, but hey, we all have our quirks.)

No, neither of these is the reason I smile whenever I pick up these two Christmas fowls and hang them on the tree.  The reason I smile is...I don't know why I feel like I'm confessing as I write this but...I smile because whenever I look at those ornaments I remember that I bought them after Christmas at 50% off.

Yes, this fact says much about me.  I love a deal.  I will hold a grudge against an item for it's entire existence if I am forced, out of necessity, to purchase it at full price against my will.  The price will run through my mind as I give it a glance, and a scowl will automatically form on my features.

I once had a pen that I purchased when I worked at Hallmark that was extremely awesome.  It was a pen when you turned the bottom one way and a mechanical pencil if you turned it another way.  My co-worker showed me the new inventory once when I came in on my day off, and I told her to ring me up.  I was shocked when the register showed $11 as my total.  I had too much pride to admit that Mat and I were poor and couldn't possibly afford it, so I paid the money and left with the writing utensil held gingerly in a small bag.  Buyers remorse hung in the air as I explained to Mat what I'd done.  He, of course, laughed and wasn't bothered a bit.  I had that pen for twelve years before it broke.  I only stopped babying it for about the last five and never called it anything but "The Eleven Dollar Pen."

As I go through life, I am finding that sometimes a deal isn't a deal and it's just best to save up the money and purchase something nice, new and full priced when you need to.  But that doesn't mean that I don't still remember the jeans I got for $.50 when Kimball was a toddler.  They looked brand new and lasted through three boys, of course I remember them.  It doesn't mean that when Mat tells me he used the coupon I gave him to buy my Christmas present which made it a very inexpensive gift that I don't sincerely reply, "Well, I like it even better then."  And, it doesn't mean that I still don't remember the Christmas that I gazed longingly at the impressive Hallmark ornament display, knowing that I couldn't justify buying Mr. Legghorn and his sidekick at that price no matter how Christmas-y they looked, only to discover them on the half-off table one cold January day.  Sometimes we just have to treasure the little things that make us smile.