Sports

Everyone wants some entertainment in life.  I have award shows; others have professional sports.

Facebook was all abuzz this morning, wasn’t it?  I didn’t watch the games, but from the looks of it, some of my friends were happy and excited with the outcomes while others were sad and disappointed.  Apparently, there was a player that gave a fired up interview after the second game; those few seconds seemed to overshadow the end result of that game.  I had to scroll through many posts regarding his outburst before realizing that he was on the winning team.

I finally gave in to my curiosity and watched a clip of the interview, expecting to hear a swear word that slipped by the censors, or perhaps a choice hand gesture.  I was even more curious when I didn’t see anything like that. Yes, he was obnoxious.  But, I’ve seen my husband get all worked up after watching a game, so I guess I can see how a player could be even more excitable after actually contributing to a win/loss.  He spoke loudly, he was rude; I’ve seen behavior like this before from athletes (and from people in a grocery store, but that’s another blog for another time).  Why did everyone feel like this particular situation deserved so much time on my Facebook feed?

I should mention that I have very little appreciation for professional sports.  Most of the time, I don’t care to watch them.  I understand the value a team can bring the city in which they are based; money is brought into the city, jobs are created, a sense of unity is shared in the community.  But beyond that, what is it that makes people care so much about professional sports?  Absolutely, you should watch a game, cheer on your team, and relish their victories if you’re a fan.  But when the game doesn’t end the way you’d like, does that warrant the tirades like those I’ve read today over last night’s episode?  It can’t really have such an effect on your own life, if you’re just a fan in the stands or at home (unless, maybe, you’re putting money on the game, but even then…).

I just don’t get it.  It’s a game. A game for which the players are paid obscene amounts of money, are treated like heroes, and then act like jerks…and we’re surprised by that!  It’s like giving a child a ton of candy and toys, and then being shocked when they behave like monsters.  We shower athletes with fame and adoration, then expect them to behave themselves all the time.  I’m not excusing last night’s exhibit of poor sportsmanship.  I just think that when we build up a surreal empire, all realistic expectations (including those where players properly behave) should go out the window.

I do recognize that not all players are like this, and perhaps that is why people keep watching?  Are they keeping the faith that more will follow that example?  There are some wonderful role models in professional sports, and I think they are worthy of admiration.  I have a difficult time believing that their athletic prowess warrants such a huge payday, but again, I just don’t get it.

Sports fulfill a need for entertainment, and that is important.  Beyond that, I’m still figuring it all out.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I will watch the Super Bowl…but only for the commercials.  That’s entertainment enough for me.

Strep

Poor Alex is ill.  It doesn’t happen often, and it usually comes and goes quickly, but it always comes with its fair share of drama.

Last night, Al fell asleep on the couch around 6pm.  This rarely happens, and I braced myself for some kind of sickness (and crossed my fingers that we weren’t about to get hit with a stomach virus!).  He woke up several times before we moved him upstairs, and was very fussy, but didn’t feel particularly warm.  He finally said that his “mouth hurt”, which is exactly what he told us about every two weeks before his tonsils were removed.

That was a fun stretch of time.  The poor kid, who hated to take medicine, was getting sick with strep every few weeks.  In between his illnesses, another family member (at least one of us, anyway) would also get strep.  It felt like someone was always sick.  We finally made the decision that his tonsils had to come out, but not before Al managed to tolerate taking his “pink” (this is what he calls amoxicillin).  The surgery was pretty typical (but not uneventful!), and since then he’s only had strep a couple of times.

This is one of those times.  Instead of joining us for church this morning, Mark took Alex to urgent care, where our suspicions were confirmed.  Fortunately, we’re already in the wash-your-hands-constantly mode and we’re never short on Clorox wipes around here (one benefit of flu season, I suppose…I’m on the look out for germs!), so I’m hopeful that his strep doesn’t spread to anyone else.  Alex will have an extra day to rest tomorrow, which is another perk of getting sick on a weekend (or perhaps, the only perk?).

Funny thing, another family member also started amoxicillin today: Maisey.  For the first time ever we filled a prescription for one of the kids, only to return a few hours later to get the same prescription for the dog.  She doesn’t have strep (can dogs even get strep?), but a mild UTI; we’re hoping that the antibiotics will clear that up, and curb the peeing-on-the-floor situation (although her doc feels that it may be an anxiety issue…we’ll see).

So, we’ll spend the next day resting, and disinfecting, and hibernating from the next cold blast that’s headed our way.  What else would we do in January?!?

Glitz

As I sit here, on the sofa, on a cold and snowy Saturday night, I couldn’t be more content.  I’ve got my warm pajamas, a fluffy blanket, and the SAG Awards.  Perfection for this tired mama duck.

I have an obsession with award shows.  The glamour of the gowns, the sparkle of the jewels, the anticipation of hearing the actors say something witty.  The awards really have no impact on my personal life, other than perhaps dictating which movies or tv shows I add to my never ending “to watch” list, or determining which celebrities I add to my Twitter feed.  I think I’m partially in awe of the over-the-top glitz, and partially envious of the profession in which the winners are being recognized.  As an introvert who wishes she was more outspoken (my husband may disagree with that last part), it amazes me that these people continuously put themselves in situations where they must be the center of attention.  The mere thought of having to walk in shoes that are not flats, down that red carpet, is enough to make me panic; I can’t imagine making a career out of expecting millions of people to watch you all the time.

I am happy enough to sit on the sidelines and watch the parade of glamour, and then read all the unseen details in the following days.  As ridiculous and pointless as it may seem, it’s an escape from reality that everyone so desperately needs some time or another.

My favorite awards show is the Golden Globes, because it brings the best of both screen sizes into one room.  The atmosphere seems so festive; the constant flow of champagne may have something to do with that, though.  For the Oscars, I try to catch some of the “pregame coverage” so I can get an extra long look at all the frivolous fluff that goes hand in hand with all things Hollywood.  For those few hours, I can stop worrying about the kids, the house, and all of the world problems that I am determined to solve on my own. I can sit back, in my anything-but-glamorous pajamas, and live vicariously through all of the talented individuals I watch and admire.

Some people look forward to the NFL playoffs and the Super Bowl.  I find the same excitement in hearing “…and the Golden Globe/Actor/Academy Award goes to…”

Dance

As I’ve mentioned before, all of my children take dance classes. On Friday nights, Al gets his turn.

Last year was his first year of dance, and he eagerly asked to continue with his lessons this year. We happily obliged. Dance is so great for all kids, but for Alex, it’s fantastic. He gets an extra dose of learning how to work with peers (taking turns, minding everyone’s space, listening to a teacher). He also gets exercise, expends some energy, and has a ton of fun while doing it.

I’m always impressed, watching him dance. He is so into it! He may not perfectly perform every move, but he has rhythm, and you can tell that he really loves music and dancing.

What impresses me more, though, is how welcomed he is into his class. We choose to place him into a class for five and six year olds, as the class for nine year old kiddos is just too far above his skill level. Being smaller than most typically developing kids his age, he blends in with the younger kiddos quite well. The only thing that may set him apart from his classmates is the fact that he’s a boy, while the other dancers are all girls (last year, there was another boy in the class, but the ratio was about the same because that class was bigger); for once, it’s not his Down syndrome setting him apart from the crowd. The kids in his classes have been wonderful; they encourage him, or help keep him in line, whichever is needed at a given moment. He looks forward to seeing them each week.

Even beyond that, though, is something so simple: at the studio where my children dance, we’ve never had to make a case for him to be included. This is particularly striking to me, I think, because I feel like we are constantly struggling to have him included with kids his own age at school…perhaps the most obvious opportunity for inclusion. There are few places where I’ve expected at least some level of convincing in order for him to participate, yet was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t necessary, and dance class is one of those places. He’s included, but that’s not to say he gets any special treatment. His teachers, past and present, caught on to his stunts early on, and he doesn’t get away with much in class. It is awesome. He has clear boundaries and expectations that he is expected to follow, but he is still included and enjoys every minute of it. We couldn’t ask for more.

So each week, all three of my kids happily spin and jump and learn the routines that we will so joyfully watch them perform on stage in June at their annual recital. We certainly won’t be the only proud parents in the crowd, but we may have an extra sparkle in our eye as we watch Alex, on stage with his dance friends, doing what he loves so much.

Coupons

Everybody likes to save money, right?  Some people are enthusiastic about a good deal, while others seem to make a sport of it.  We’ve even seen a new verb, “couponing”, spring from the obsession.  I tend to fall more in the middle of the curve; I utilize coupons, but I’m definitely not the lady at checkout paying $0.23 for two carts full of groceries.  Searching for, clipping, and then remembering to use coupons is a lot of work.  It can certainly pay off, but when you’re as busy as I am, it’s more difficult to keep up.  We live in an area where there are many grocery-type stores, so while it’s easy to hit them all for their weekly deals, it does take some time organizing lists and determining where to buy what.  I find that I do save money by doing that, though, so I don’t usually mind the extra stops.

Each week, I scan the Sunday newspaper coupon inserts, but I’m finding that more and more of the products are those that I don’t want my kids to eat: fruit snacks full of artificial colors and flavors, cereals coated in sugar, and other random junk.  I do clip the coupons for yogurt, dog food, and a few other items (new products that look interesting, for example), but more often than not, I just don’t have a use for them.

Enter the fun new coupon apps!  I am loving that I can upload coupons to my store loyalty cards, or just flash a barcode on my phone at checkout, to save some money.  Target’s new Cartwheel app is especially convenient; often, I just pull over in an aisle as I’m shopping to scan the offers they have available.  I no longer have an excuse to not use coupons, because the stores are making it easier to do so; brilliant, because that is bound to draw in the crazy busy mamas who are trying to save a buck.

Offering free stuff always catches my eye, too.  Earth Fare is great about offering a free product when you spend $10; I started buying meat almost exclusively from EF, and if I get a freebie, then I’ll totally make another grocery stop.  They also have a great kids’ night every week, where kids can eat free when the adult spends $5 in prepared food.  Tonight, I took two of my kids after their dance classes, and all three of us had a great dinner for $5.46.  It was a great meal, for much less than it would have cost us at a fast food joint, and I didn’t have to cook after a long day (score!).

My favorite coupons, by far, are birthday deals.  Many places will send you freebies via email if you sign up on their website.  This year, I found that I couldn’t find time to use all the offers I received, as most of them expire within a week of your birthday.  I managed to squeeze in three free meals and a free latte from Starbucks, though!

As much as I enjoy redeeming my coupons (and especially those freebie offers!), I think I am far from becoming an “extreme couponer”.  I have absolutely no desire to spend hours grocery shopping each week, figuring out which offers can be stacked with weekly sales and rebates.  If you’re one of those couponing enthusiasts, good work!  While you’re doing that, I’ll just be over here, searching for more free birthday deals to use next year.

Tired

All kids have bad days.  All people have bad days.  But when Alex has a bad day, it goes beyond what most people would probably imagine, because he tends to save these episodes for me.  It’s always fun, though, when Alex chooses to display his tantrums in public, and even more fun when it occurs in front of people we know (like this evening, when he threw himself on the floor, screaming, in front of not one, but all three pastors at our church).

And today, of all days, I chose to work on my arms at the gym.  So there I was, already sore, and trying to convince my stubborn kiddo (who is very strong, I might add) to put on his coat and his shoes so we could go home.  Easy request, right?  I wasn’t asking him to do anything difficult.  But wow, did that set him off.  I still don’t know exactly why he got so upset.  He is probably very tired, having not slept well last night, and he didn’t eat much dinner so he could have been hungry.  It was also the first night of a new Wednesday evening schedule, so that could have also played into the situation.

It’s like having an inconsolable infant; you know something is wrong, and you can narrow it down to a few things that may be causing the tantrum, and then all you can do is try to go down the list to find a solution. Only in this case, it’s much more frustrating because he is capable of telling me what he wants or needs, but for some unknown reason, this time he doesn’t.  He is very verbal; he makes demands all the time.  He sings songs and tells jokes, and has a terrific imagination.  He has the ability to “use his words” (I can’t tell you how many times a day I use that phrase), but in this scenario, he just doesn’t. Instead, he cries and screams, and I’m left to determine why.

To add insult to injury, when I share these situations with those who are supposed to be helping us, I get the ever-predictable response of placing the blame on his Down syndrome.  I’m not buying it anymore.  Yes, his Down syndrome makes communication more difficult for him, but why does he have that hairline trigger that sets him off the way it does?  Why, after throwing a 20 minute tantrum, can he revert back to his cheerful, funny disposition, like nothing ever happened?  Something else is going on; his Down syndrome might contribute to it, but there is something else.

Now, to just figure out what that is, and how to handle it.  Exhausting.

Gym

Today, after a long break (too long!), I made it back to the gym.  It felt good…at the time.  Now, I’m extra tired and a little sore, but after maybe a month off (no child care + extra long holiday break = no free time for Mom, not even for exercise), I shouldn’t expect less.  I know it will take me a while to build back up to where I was in early December, but as long as I keep going, then I’m making progress.  Baby steps.

Meetings

I’m not a big fan of meetings.  Meetings typically aren’t called to discuss something fun; if that was the case, it would be called a “party” or “celebration”.  On the contrary, “meetings” are usually very serious times to discuss an important matter.  And I don’t enjoy them, not one bit.

Since Alex started school, we have sat through endless meetings.  We have also sat through meetings to learn how to handle other meetings.  It’s exhausting.  Some meetings are stressful, others are aggravating, and still others leave me in a state of pure shock and/or confusion that it takes me hours (if not days) to sort it all out and revise the game plan.

Any parent of a child on an IEP knows that you don’t just get to send your kid to school.  Nope.  Oh, but wouldn’t that just be lovely?  To send your child off, happy and smiling, and know with some certainty that everything they need is being taken care of, without having to look over every shoulder and constantly be viewed as “that parent”?  These are the things I dream of, usually when I should be prepping for another meeting.

I know, I know, there are certainly difficulties for other parents, for other reasons, even if your child isn’t on an IEP.  Perhaps, it is these parents that can most closely empathize with the trials and tribulations of the IEP parents.  Most have no idea what we encounter, in our efforts for inclusion; it’s always interesting to see the reactions of those who finally get an inkling of our experience.

I’m quite certain that it’s no picnic to be on the other side of the meeting table, either.  Here’s the thing, though: it’s nothing personal.  I don’t care who is sitting across from me; I’m still going to advocate for my son.  The problem that most of us probably face is that our advocacy efforts are taken as attacks on individuals.  Then, it becomes all too easy for tempers to flare, for feelings to get hurt.  But, listen: it’s usually not the teachers causing the parents’ frustrations.  It’s a broken system, rooted in money issues (although nobody can come right out and say that) and the fact that our kiddos don’t contribute to the districts’ performance ratings because in most cases, they aren’t taking standardized tests.  Those two elements make it very difficult to change the system in our kids’ favor.  As long as the districts are meeting the minimum requirements, it is nearly impossible for the pleas of the parents to fall on cooperative ears.  It’s been suggested to me more than once (by family, and quite frankly, myself!) that we should just move to another district.  But then, though, we’ll have a whole new catalog of problems.  It’s that pesky “grass is always greener” lesson that I’m not interested in learning again.

I’m absolutely not picking on the school district which my children attend, as I know that parents across the country, with kiddos of varying diagnoses, are having the exact same struggles that my family is having (in fact, some have much more daunting battles!).  Our district is excellent and my other two children will benefit greatly from attending such wonderful schools.  Of course, Alex has also benefited, in different ways; but, I am confident that he could benefit even more if we could all get on the same page.

Until that time comes, though, I will sit through as many meetings as it takes, and I will encourage other parents to do the same for their children.  The “minimum” just isn’t good enough for any kid, but that is all they will get without strong advocacy efforts from parents.  Fight hard, fight loud.

And if I have to be “that parent”, so be it.

Church

Sundays are lovely.  Mark typically does not work on Sundays (the only day he doesn’t work!), and it’s usually a nice, relaxing, family day.  Most of our family begins our day at church.  I say “most” because, well, not everybody goes every week.  Being an interfaith couple (Mark is Jewish) and having a child with special needs, it’s actually a bit rare to see all five of us at church.  My daughter and I are the most regular attendees, but each of us benefits from being a part of the church, regardless of our attendance.

I grew up going to church, here and there, with my aunt; I loved it!  Sunday School was so fun, and I loved going to Vacation Bible School.  As I got older, and we moved away, it was more difficult to visit that church, and eventually we didn’t go at all.  As I continued to grow up, I slowly realized that I didn’t agree with certain beliefs held by some churches, and that made it difficult to find the “right” church.  It’s never made sense to me to exclude anyone from being treated as an equal part of society.  I don’t care who you are, what you look like, whom you love, what you believe…to me, we’re all the same, and should be treated as such.  It shouldn’t even be an issue, but sadly, it is.  Because I feel so strongly about this, I felt like I was being disrespectful when I did attend a church service, and eventually I just stopped looking.

Then, when Alex was born, I found myself thrown into the world of advocacy; facing new battles to make sure that someone (my Al) would be given the same rights and opportunities, even though he is different than others.  Beyond that, I found myself asking the same question whenever we thought about going somewhere new or trying something different: would we be treated differently because of his Down syndrome?  I’d heard stories that indicate that people with disabilities aren’t accepted as equal participants in society, even in places like church, where everyone should be welcome.

But, I’d already learned that not everybody was welcome at church; at least, not at every church.  So I didn’t even try to find a place where we might feel welcome on Sundays.  Then, one day I was scrolling through Facebook, and suddenly I felt like a church kind of found me.  A friend (who is even more passionate about equal rights for all) posted adorable pictures of her kids, at church, on Easter.  Those pictures struck me; I immediately thought that if my friend was attending a church, then this church was different.  Special.  Inclusive.  Exactly what I wanted for my family.

After several questions to my friend, many visits to the church website, and months of debating (my husband is Jewish, remember, and we had been coping with the “religion and kids issue” by just not dealing with it), I finally attended church on a dreary March Sunday.  I took Addie with me to check it out, and I was immediately welcomed, given a tour, and then someone invited me to sit with her and her friends.  Addie enjoyed the children’s program; we both left that day with a warm, fuzzy feeling about our experience.  We went back the next week.  I took Andrew with me the next time, and finally, took Alex.

I have always been impressed with the church: the music, the messages, the building itself.  But, it’s the children’s programs that really blow me away.  My kids (all three of them!) perform with the children’s choir and participate in the pageants and VBS.  They each attend a children’s worship service; Alex is able to spend his time in a sensory-sensitive program, which is fantastic.  Usually, especially in a new setting, I am apprehensive about leaving Alex.  Would his Down syndrome throw them for a loop?  How will they understand him?  Will he be frustrated and act out?  But, I have never felt uncertain about leaving Alex so that I could attend service; no matter what he is doing (choir, children’s service, pageant rehearsal), he is treated the exact same way as the other kids.  They adapt the programs for him, instead of expecting us to adapt to the program.  It’s wonderful.  He feels safe and loved, and because of that, he loves going…and everyone he sees while we’re there.  And because the kids are so well taken care of, I can relax and enjoy the peacefulness that surrounds the services.  I need that, and I am very grateful for it.  On the rare weeks that I miss church, I notice myself feeling “off” throughout the week, which I attribute to missing out on my hour of quiet reflection on Sunday morning.

All of us really enjoy attending service; even Mark finds the church to be very welcoming.  He joined a small group with me and we’ve developed some great friendships that we otherwise may not have discovered. More importantly, we get a weekly reminder that we are all beloved children of God, no matter what our differences may be. Everyone is the same, and we should love, respect, and celebrate one another. That is exactly the lesson I want my children to grow up learning.

On the Sundays which all five of us attend church, we go out to lunch afterward (with my children, eating out is truly an event!), then it’s on to whatever else we need to accomplish before the weekend is over.

In our chaotic (not to mention exhausting, unruly, and very, very loud…) life, this is truly is a great way to start off each week.

Cookies

Today is the day many people seem to wait for all year: the first day of Girl Scout Cookie sales.

My little Girl Scout (she is actually a Brownie this year) is kicking off her third year of this iconic event. Because it’s always so cold, last year I allowed her to utilize my Facebook page to sell her cookies. I would set her up, she would tap out a status update, and take orders from those who responded.  It was great. She got lots of orders, and we both stayed a lot warmer than we would have been if we pounded the pavement. Weather permitting, we’ll stop by some of the houses on our street, and she plans to ask around a bit at church and at her school, but if she can reach her goal solely by utilizing social media, then so be it!

Addie has a pretty ambitious goal this year; she is hoping to sell 500 boxes.  She’s a smart girl, this one.  The prize she wants to earn comes after selling 204 boxes, but she set her goal a little bit higher than that because she has sold more than that in the past sales.  The big prizes (a laptop or an iPad, your choice) are earned after selling a mere 3000 boxes.  Of course, she really wants her own iPad (and everything you get leading up to that prize), but even she knows that isn’t realistic.  She’ll try her best, though, and as long as she is enjoying herself, I will support her.

We all know, of course, that it’s the parents really driving these sales.  The girls can’t drive, and they are hopefully not going out unaccompanied to sell cookies in their neighborhoods; they simply would not be as successful if they did not have the assistance.  Other than my husband taking an order form to work, we expect Addie to do all the selling on her own.  She may use my Facebook page, but she types all the updates and then helps tally all the orders.  When the cookies arrive at the end of February, she will help sort everything and hand off the orders.  It’s her sale, and even though she needs assistance, she needs to learn the lessons at hand (using manners, speaking clearly to adults, collecting money, tracking her sales progress…). For me, the twinkle in her eyes when she talks about the prizes she can earn is more than enough prize for all the work I’ll put into this sale.

That, and the half dozen boxes of Thin Mints I’ll consume this spring.