Photos

It’s Monday.  We’re all tired, and maybe a little cranky.  What better time to look back through family photos…especially those that are hilarious?!?  Read on, and enjoy.

My family was complete with the arrival of our youngest son in December 2008.  We decided to commemorate the occasion with our first official family photo:

It went well, don’t you think?  My daughter looks like she is vomiting, but she was meowing because at that time, she pretended to be a cat.  A lot.  Alex just didn’t want to have his picture taken.

So, we tried again a few months later:

Grocery

Grocery shopping is a chore.  I know that some people enjoy it, and honestly, I usually don’t mind it too much.  Today, though, was one of those shopping trips that have you considering take out for every day of the week.

I prefer to shop by myself; that way, I can focus on my list and make sure to use my coupons.  If I have one of the kids with me, extra stuff (usually junk food) ends up in my cart.  When all five of us go, it’s just a circus.  I planned to go by myself today, but at the last minute, Alex asked if he could go with me.  He likes to help me at the store, so I agreed and he happily joined me.

We did fairly well in the produce section; he selected some nice apples and grapes. He looked around for a cookie sample in the bakery, but discovered that they were only offering sugar cookies today, so he decided to wait and eat some cheese from the deli.

Oh, the cheese.  That’s where the shopping trip took a nasty turn.

Alex used to eat cheese, then outgrew it (he tends to do that with foods; he’ll eat something and then, for no reason, refuse to eat it anymore).  Lately, though, he has been eating the colby jack cheese from the deli. This is something we regularly buy, so that works out well.  We went to the deli counter, where he discovered that there was a line; looking back, that could have been the trigger for the meltdown that would soon begin.  Fortunately, though, we didn’t wait long, and I ordered our cheese (I use it to make “Mommy Mac” for No Meat Monday).  He waited, somewhat patiently, for his shopping snack.  For no apparent reason, though, he dropped to the floor when I tried to hand him the cheese, because it wasn’t “all orange”. Ugh.  Not ten minutes in the store, and there we were, the center of attention.  Thinking quickly, I asked him to show me which cheese he wanted; he pointed out a round swiss, because it was a circle.  I pointed out that it wasn’t orange, though, so then he picked out a colby, because it was orange…but it wasn’t round. After putting him back on his feet (I have little tolerance for the flop ‘n drop routine, and I always help him stand back up), we finally found an orange, circle cheese, and I asked for a few slices (since I already stocked up on the colby jack).  The lady kindly handed Al a slice, with a hopeful look on her face…but down he went, again.  Seriously?!?  I was out of patience by then, we had a small audience, and we had barely started on our grocery list.  It was time to move on.

I managed to get Al away from the deli, and after giving him a few minutes to bounce back (he didn’t), I hauled him into the back of the cart and went on my merry way.

Al did eventually snap back to his typical self, and helped me finish the shopping.  But, when it was time to check out, he wanted to help bag the groceries (the people at the store are always great about letting him help).  Today, though, he was too shy to ask if he could help, so I did it for him, but then he wouldn’t take two steps away from me to put things in bags.  So, of course, when we were finished checking out, he started in on another tantrum.  “Nope,” I told him, and took his hand, leading him out of the store and to the car.

That was the longest, most frustrating shopping trip I’ve had in a long time. I think the long weekend off school is taking a toll on the poor kid.  I know for sure that I’ll be doing the shopping on my own next time. Until then, I will enjoy our well-stocked kitchen…and the pint of Graeter’s I threw in the cart mid-tantrum.

Lost

We are a very busy family.  Hectic schedules, active kids, and a too-small house contribute to the chaos that we face on a daily basis.  Not such a big deal, until something goes missing.

We are constantly losing things.  And it makes me crazy.

Glasses, socks, wallets, keys, important papers, toys, phones…and most recently, my checkbook.  Blerg!

This latest misplacement has me especially distraught, mostly because I know I saw the stinking thing in my purse the other day and I specifically remember thinking “I should take that out of there before I lose it”.  I rarely write checks; if I do, I write them at home and then immediately send them off wherever they need to go.  I have no need to write a check on the spot; now that most places take debit cards, there’s just no reason to have it on me all the time.  For some unknown reason, I grabbed the whole thing the last time I needed to write a check.  You can bet, from now on, I’ll take extra care in putting it right back where it belongs.

I come from a long line of worriers.  I am envisioning someone on a huge shopping spree right now (ha, joke’s on them, because that particular checkbook is for my business account, which doesn’t hold much money because I filter it out shortly after it goes in), and I will obsess about it…well, probably forever.  Or at least until it’s found.  The odds of that aren’t good, though.

In the almost 11 years that we’ve lived in this house, several things have seemingly disappeared into thin air, never to be seen again.  Let’s hope that my stupid checkbook is around here somewhere.

Valentine

February 14th.  The predetermined day of love.  Although more accepted than the fall’s Sweetest Day (my husband refuses to acknowledge this made up “holiday”, ha!), it still seems kind of silly to have a day that reminds us to show our love for others.  We should just do this automatically, every day, right?  Eh, well.

When I was little, it was a joy to decorate a shoe box with construction paper, paint, and glitter.  My favorite Valentine’s day box was a frog.  I can’t remember which cartoon characters adorned my cards to my classmates, but it was a pretty simple affair.  Now that my kids are in school and celebrate the holiday, it’s quite common to have a card which comes with something else: a pencil, a tattoo, candy, or even a mini glow stick.  Each holiday seems to get more and more elaborate each year (I swear, we celebrate Halloween for three solid weeks in October!), and I wonder how it will continue to evolve.

For now, though, my kids know that this is a holiday to show their friends, teachers, and family that they are appreciated. I was proud of my kids this year; they didn’t need prompting to send little cards in the mail, or make gifts for us.  Addie even remembered that I admired a sparkly red cup at Walgreen’s a few weeks ago, and she asked Mark to take her there so she could use her own money to buy it for me.  Sweet girl!  It’s times like these that I realize that my efforts to churn out “good” kids might be working.

Mark made a lovely dinner for us tonight (surf & turf, delicious!), and now it’s time to round everyone up for bed, as Al has an early Special Olympics event tomorrow morning.  Although my day didn’t consist of lavish flowers or chocolates (which I honestly had no desire for, anyway!), I definitely feel loved, and that’s what counts.

Happy Valentine’s Day, friends.  I hope you feel loved, too.

Mobile

Dear Cranky Lady in Line Behind Us,

Exhausted

Changes in routine are never easy.  I am very used to juggling everyone’s schedules around my own, so I figured that adding another task to my daily schedule would not have much of an impact.  I was wrong. 

I am very much enjoying my new job; everything has come together and is running fairly smoothly, logistics-wise (even with all the snow days!).  I never expected to be so tired, though! 

Today was a hectic day, with work, picking up kids, speech therapy for Al at a new clinic, and then church.  We arrived home after 8:30pm, with Valentines to finish, and I have an AVON order to sort and then an assignment from another project to finish.  (Note how I’m still posting a blog, though…that, my friends, is dedication!)

Because it’s almost 10pm, and I have a considerable amount of work to do tonight, this entry will have to be cut short.  Hopefully, tomorrow will be less hectic; somehow, though, I doubt it.

Anyone else hear the circus music?  Just me?  Ok, then. 

Smiles

Mothers tend to grumble a lot.  There is always so much to do (work, laundry, shopping, cooking, cleaning, homework, carpooling…the list goes on and on), and seemingly very little time in which to complete it all.  So, we grumble.  It may be a silent grumble, with an eye roll; it could be a full blown Marge Simpson grumble (I’ve perfected that one by now). 

Just this evening, I was feeling very overwhelmed because the kids still need to finish their valentines, the dishes had not been done, I was in the middle of a bazillion loads of laundry, and Al had Special Olympics basketball practice at 5:30pm.  It wasn’t even a full practice (I assumed it would be cut short because the older players had a game; I was correct in that!), so were going to drive 25 minutes for a 30 minute practice.  It took a lot for me to not bail on basketball all together, in favor of finishing all the other tasks I was struggling to complete.  But, because Alex loves basketball, and this was the last practice of the season, I dropped everything and loaded everyone into the car.

As I figured they would, the kids fought the entire way, and with traffic, we barely arrived in time.  Stressful commutes are just super fun.  When we arrived at the gym, Alex ran ahead so he could join his team, and I waited (and waited, and waited) for Andrew to get his stuff together so we could go into the gym.  We trudged inside, and found a place to sit.  Alex was a little overwhelmed by the presence of all the extra people in the gym, but he quickly warmed up and fell into line with his teammates.  I tried to watch the kids practice, even though my endless to-do list kept running through my head.

Then, I saw Al take the ball and start dribbling down the court, running the drill his coach had demonstrated.  He was beaming.  He loves the game, and there is no hiding it when he gets the ball.  The third part of the drill was to take a shot; he missed many consecutive shots, but would always take the ball and get back into line.

Then, the team switched to a shooting drill.  One by one, the kids took their shots, and many of them starting making their baskets.  The smiles on their faces quickly melted away any of the stress I was feeling in having to take Al to practice.  With each basket, their smiles got a little brighter, and they were very proud of themselves.  It was awesome. 

So, although I had to abandon this disaster area of a home I have right now to go to an abbreviated practice, it was so worth it.  These kids work so hard, and they needed to hear the cheers from the “crowd” (read: players’ parents).  Their million-watt smiles were more than enough of a trade off. 

The valentines and laundry will all get done in time.  I’ll remember Alex’s proud smiles for many years to come.

Inclusion

Certain words can evoke strong feelings; emotions which are kept at bay can come screaming out, full force, when a specific word is mentioned.  Sometimes these are feelings of joy, sometimes anger.  And sometimes, when you hear that one particular word, you feel everything from happiness to frustration to exhaustion, all at once.  For my family, the word “inclusion” has become a definite trigger word.

If you speak with any parent of a child with an IEP about their child’s education, you may soon discover that he or she is tired.  I’m not a fan of generalizations, but I feel confident that this statement is true.  As if being a parent isn’t exhausting enough, when you have a child that requires an Individualized Education Program (IEP), you get thrown into the choppy seas of advocacy.  It’s not an easy task, and we don’t typically ask to do it, but when you have a child with special needs, it is up to you to be the very loudest voice that advocates for them. 

I’ve indicated before how difficult our journey has been this year, and along with the supportive comments we’ve received, there are also those that defend the school district’s actions.  Let me make this perfectly clear: I understand how difficult it is to be a teacher these days, and I do not envy their jobs one bit.  I’ve expressed to my son’s teachers (this year and in previous years) that our challenges and disagreements are not to be taken personally; whether they want to believe that is up to them.  The system is very broken.  When school districts gamble that parents don’t know their rights, and the rights of their children, then they are bound to come across parents like us who know better.  Set up the hoops, I’ll keep jumping through them, if I feel that I need to advocate for a better education for my son.

Inclusion has been presented as though it’s a privilege, something that is awarded to students with special needs.  Ridiculous.  I realize that it’s not an easy task, and that contentious meetings are stressful and draining.  I also don’t care.  Children like my son need to be educated with their peers so that they can grow into adults that can independently function in society.  If we segregate these kids into resource rooms, where the environment is easily controlled and corralling them is more convenient for the daily schedule, they will not benefit from being alongside their typically developing peers.  It’s going to take extra effort, intensive planning, and more collaboration between teachers, interventionists, and parents.  I’m ready to put in the time, and I will challenge everyone who works with my son, and those like him, to do the same.

If you aren’t familiar with the IEP processes, you may be thinking that we’re expecting too much of the school districts, or creating extra work for ourselves.  But truthfully, if districts would listen to the parents and just try to make the requested accommodations, there would be a lot less work involved.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve made a suggestion, only to be told “the district doesn’t do that”, even when I know they do.  So, of course, we take it a step further, only to be shot down again, so we take it another step further.  I’m going to keep going until we get the education that my son deserves. 

Our struggles are certainly not isolated; I know of families all across the country that endure more strenuous situations in their efforts to educate their children.  My friend recently posted a link on Facebook that details the battles of a family in Florida, whose child is dying yet they are still being forced into absurd battles with their school district.  Many people do not realize the challenges that are imposed on families who are already dealing with so much.  We face extra financial burden, strained relationships, and worries that most people don’t have to consider, and then we get to deal with school issues on top of all that.  That is, unless you are able to hire someone to help you.  In our school district, it’s become a well known phenomenon that until you hire a private advocate or attorney, to attend meetings and assist in navigating the system, you don’t get anywhere with the schools.  This is disgusting.  So, because I can’t afford to fork over a cool one thousand dollars for an advocate before my next meeting with the school at the end of this month, I’ll continue to get the run around. 

But run I shall, and I’ll keep jumping through those hoops.  I know they can do what we’re asking; we’re not being unreasonable in our requests.  Maybe they’re just not used to having parents push back, asking them to think beyond what they’ve done in the past, to suit their child.  That’s the thing with kids with special needs; you can’t develop a standard plan, or schedule, or philosophy and expect that every child fits into it.  It does not work that way.  There’s a reason we sit and write (and rewrite, and rewrite again) these Individualized Education Programs.  IEP parents are becoming more savvy, perhaps, than they were in the past, and it’s time for districts to recognize that.  We know what’s going on around us. 

To all those in this nation’s school systems who sit on the opposite side of the table (teachers, interventionists, district administrators) from the tired IEP parents: stop taking these challenges so personally.  It’s not about you.  We would be questioning the same things, regardless of who was sitting across from us.  I’m sorry if our concerns make you look bad in front of your colleagues; that is certainly not our intention.  We do, however, expect you to hear us out without an attitude, and to work with us on these issues.  We’re here to work together, not make things worse.  We are supposed to work as a team.  This process should not be so difficult.  You would fight just as hard if it was your child’s education being discussed. 

To those IEP parents who do not face these struggles: be thankful.  Every once in a while, I encounter a parent who is shocked to hear of our struggles, because they’ve had such a great experience with their schools.  I envy the ease you experience in advocating for your child’s education.  In fact, I often daydream about what it must be like to walk into a meeting with a list of requests, and have the district readily agree to them.  One day, I hope to enjoy that as well.

Hearing about, or thinking of, “inclusion” should not trigger such anxiety.  Someday, it won’t, and I’ll get to be one of the lucky parents who is confident that their child is getting the education they need.  We’ll all get there.  Just keep jumping, and we’ll do it together.

Slippery

And the never-ending winter marches on…

We had more snow today.  That’s on top of the many inches of snow, and ice, that fell last week…which never got plowed.  Our neighborhood is a mess.  Slicker than snot, some might say (in fact, I just said that, not ten minutes ago).  We live in an awkward part of the city, where we have a city address, and our children do not attend city schools (as we fall into a different school district), but we live in a different county than most who have a city address.  Our neighborhood was annexed by the city at some point, so our services are provided by the city (as opposed to the neighboring township, which has its own services). This only becomes an issue on days like this when there is a lot of snow on the ground and we rarely, if ever, see a plow.  Hence, the slippery roads.  The snow finally started to melt today, only to refreeze, causing even slicker conditions.  I was out a bit earlier this evening and almost crashed into some cars parked on the street (and you may have already read that this is also a problem in my neighborhood; seriously, it’s a mess over here). 

So now I’m worried that the kids’ school bus won’t be able to make it down the street tomorrow morning.  I mean, there’s basically an obstacle course waiting for the driver, courtesy of Mother Nature and inconsiderate neighbors.  But, there’s not much you can do about it on a Sunday evening…except tweet at the mayor, pleading for a snow plow to visit my neighborhood.  So that’s what I did.  I bet that will be right at the top of his list tomorrow morning, ha.  But, if nothing else, it made me feel a little better, and gave my husband a break from listening to me complain about it all. 

If we could get through this week of school, without a delayed start or snow day, I might shed tears of happiness.  They only have to get through four days, because they have a scheduled four day weekend (off on Friday and next Monday…I know, I don’t get it, either…they’ve had enough time off, but whatever).  I can’t remember a time when I was more anxious for spring to arrive. 

And by spring, I mean forty degree days and no more snow.  That’s not asking too much.  This is Ohio, after all, and I learned long ago to not expect too much of the weather, for it has a mind of its own. Until then, perhaps the residents in my neighborhood should look into placing a bulk order for snow shoes and cross country skis.  We could certainly get a lot of use of them right now.

Shoes

I used to have a real obsession with shoes.  I could go for at least a month and never repeat the same pair.  This was way back in high school, though, when I didn’t have much else to worry about; it was easy to spend money on shoes because I wasn’t also paying to clothe three other people.  When I was younger, most of my spending money went toward shoes.  Fast forward about twenty years.  After the kids came along and I began my long-time stint as Stay At Home Mom, I really didn’t have to worry about the type of shoes that I wore.  I selected shoes on how well they would hold up as I chased the kids.  If I wanted a “fancy” shoe, I selected sparkly flip flops.

Now, though, I am (finally) back to working in an office, and my “mom shoes” aren’t going to cut it.  Part of the fun, for me, of returning to work was thinking about the wardrobe.  As much as I adore my yoga pants and jeans, I am ready to expand my wardrobe again to include all the cute work clothes I’ve admired.  This includes shoes.  After years of longingly browsing through aisles of nice shoes, but just not having a practical need for them, you would think that shopping for work shoes would be an easy task.  Wrong.

If I find a pair of shoes that my “old lady feet” (you know, the condition your feet are left in after years of wearing heels as a teenager/young adult) could handle (reasonable heel height, not too pointy in the toes), then they are either not available in my size, or just ridiculously expensive.  My passion for bargain shopping has left me unable to pay more than $30 for shoes without having fits.  There is nothing wrong with this, I know; being frugal is a good idea.  But, when the boots you have are falling apart, and you can’t find anything suitable to replace them, frustrations arise.

The other day, as I was sitting at my desk, the cap thingy on the heel of my boot fell off.  I was able to pop it right back on, and move on with my day, but it later occurred to me that I will probably need to replace those boots soon.  Crap.  As cool as it would be to have a secret compartment to store lipstick, or string cheese (hey, it folds easily and you never know when you need a snack while you’re on-the-go, right?!?), it’s probably best to replace them. 

So, today I was out for a bit and tried (again!) to find new shoes.  Ugh.  I just don’t have the patience to shop anymore.  I did find a pair, but decided to sleep on it; if I find time tomorrow, I’ll swing back by the store to pick them up.  Maybe I’ll spend some time shopping online tonight to get ideas.  I don’t know.  I could spend that time eating Oreos and browsing Pinterest (where I know I could look at shoes, but hey, it’s more fun to repin home decor ideas and recipes I’ll never make).

My other issue is this: by the time I find an acceptable pair of winter shoes, it could be spring, and I’ll have to start all over.  Again, ugh.  (I trust that if you’ve read enough of my posts, you’ll realize by now that these “issues” are kept in perspective.  Save your “be thankful for what you have” comments, because I am indeed grateful, but I can’t write about that every day.)

I’m sure all of this will work out, and I’ll find the perfect shoes soon.  Right now, those Oreos are calling my name.  I hope your Saturday evening is a little more exciting than mine has turned out to be.