Twinkle Little Star

Christmas 2007 in Chapters

Chapter 1: Zoo Lights

Zoo lights kinda sucked most of the time and it was mostly my fault for not thinking it through well enough. The kids (and by kids I mean Aaron) broke my white cane, so I've been using another telescoping sorta sucky one. On the train, I threw it in my bag. After a half-hour train ride, I got off and somehow no longer had it.

Okay. Well, I'm meeting another mom so that makes it easier, and there are supposed to be a lot of lights, right? So maybe I will be able to see better than I usually can in the dark. But I waited and waited and waited at the designated spot, and she didn't show. I waited for about 40 minutes and walked around a bit to see if I missed her, but the kids were getting antsy and I had a decision to make. Should I go it alone or get back on the train and go back home? I decided to go over to where the entrance of the zoo was and see how I did. I didn't do well. I couldn't even tell where the line was or where to go to get in. It was one of those things that was going to be dangerous and miserable to get through, so I turned to go back home.

Right when I was turning back to head to the train, she appeared. It seemed that I had said to meet at the elevators closest to the zoo and she had only thought that there was one set of elevators coming up from the train station and was waiting at the other one. I did walk up to the other one once, but we must have missed each other. (BTW, in case the person in question ever reads this, I hope you know that I'm totally not mad at you about this. I was just frustrated by the whole situation I sort of found myself in. Mistakes/misunderstandings happen and its all good. Not like I haven't made a bajillion mistakes based on a misunderstanding.)

However, at that point my kids had sat through a 1/2 hour train ride and another over a half an hour wait. Then about a 15 minute wait in line. Then, we decided to head for the train ride. You have to buy tickets at the front, which is dumb, because then if you change your mind you've already paid. So, I wouldn't have waited in this train line if I were on my own. (Not that I said anything, so again, no blame except on myself here). Anyway, since I couldn't see, I had NO FREAKING IDEA how ungodly awful long this line was. I kept thinking we were at the end of it and just steps away from the train and then we would turn onto a whole 'nother subsection of line. It just went on and on. So, in addition to the kids' already hour and a half long wait to do something fun, We must have waited for the train for at least another hour. My kids were miserable at this point and it was just the point of no return for them. I was letting them in and out of the stroller and then they would want to be carried and my arms were aching and then Naim would throw a shit fit every time the line went away from the train and it was just a pain and not fun.

Naim getting impatient in the train line. He sucks his finger while holding on to the other arm when he's upset. He's always done this. It's kinda weird.

Then, after the train ride, I got lost. We had parked our strollers in this designated space and when we got off, she went that way and I must have missed the turn and just followed the crowd out. So, with two kids in tow, I had to find my way back IN the train area. This is where I knew I had seriously fucked up and the situation was out of my control. I had NO CLUE where I was or where I needed to be. All I could see was a mess of disorienting lights. I couldn't even see people to ask for help. I asked a few passersby if they knew how I could get back to the stroller area and they didn't know short of going through the entire train line again. Thankfully, the kids were being good and dutifully holding on to each of my hands, but I kept thinking, "Kids? As you trustingly follow your mother, you have no idea how much she is fucking up on the job right now." I was actually using them as my 'guide dogs' to watch out for steps and stuff.

I knew I needed to find someone who worked there who could get me through, but it was too dark to see who worked there. So, I asked 'The Next Person Who Walked By' to help me find someone who worked there. She had trouble as well, but finally we found someone who was holding those lights that airport people use to direct the plane with, you know? And he basically cut me through the entire train line and finally found my friend and the strollers.

An aside: I can't believe sometimes how nice some people are compared to how snotty others are. The person who helped me find the employee, she had her own kids in tow and was totally wonderful about stopping everything to run around and figure this out with me, a total stranger. Then, when I walked with my two little kids through the line with an employee, people were snotting at me not to cut in line. Even when I told them I was just passing through the line, not getting in line, someone said, "Why does she get special treatment?".

After that, things got a bit better. We walked around the zoo and it was kind of a neat atmosphere with all the lights. We spent some time watching a brass band that was playing Christmas Carols. Naim really liked that. I was fascinated watching my friend and her daughter together. Her daughter is just a month or two older than mine, and she would so dutifully follow right behind her mother while her mother walked anywhere from two to six or eight feet in front of her. She just followed along like a little puppy dog. I think Naim could do that, but still I would be afraid in a crowd like that that people would get in between us and we'd get separated and I would never be able to find him. I need contact. And Aaron? Aaron would be gone forever if I let him go like that. He is a wanderer. If he gets more than four to six feet away from me in the dark like that with such loud noises, I'm done for.

Better times for Naim. Listening to music.

So, I had the double umbrella stroller, and I always kept one in the stroller while the other had to "help me push." And even this was tough. The stroller is wide and keeps running over people's feet and can't fit anywhere narrow. The whole night was an effort of intense concentration and alertness on my part. Exhausting. I was a bore, I had to work so hard on just keeping our shit together. This was a new friend and she was a rookie at being with me. I'm sure she'll never want to go anywhere with us again.

And the whole night I kept saying to myself, "I should listen to Emmie. She's SO right about the harnesses. This would be so much easier with harnesses. I should listen to Emmie." Emmie has used those cute little animal backpack harnesses with her twin boys. And has made really insightful comments about how kid harnesses have such a stigma and are looked down upon, yet everyone shoves their kids in a stroller for the same purpose, to keep easy control of their kids. And yet, aren't strollers (at toddler age, I'm not talking infants here) so much more confining than harnesses? At least with harnesses they could walk around some and explore and get some exercise. The other thing is, they don't have to use them. You can have the kids wearing the backpacks and walking with you, and just take out the 'leash' part of the harness if needed. Whereas if you choose a stroller, you're pretty much stuck with it and at least one hand occupied all the time. In the end, to not do something that makes perfectly good sense and will work for you and keep your kids safer while still allowing them some freedom just because you are worried about what other people will think is just stupid. (As if, with all the other reasons we'll get stared at, harness stares will be such a big deal.)

And lo and behold, a Christmas Miracle! I get home and waiting for me is an email from Emmie offering to send me their harnesses that they aren't using anymore. Yea! Emmie!

Naim on a hippo statue while Aaron stands by. I didn't get really any good pictures at zoo lights. Too busy getting my ass lost.

Chapter 2: The Weekend

For the past several weeks/months, I have had significant trouble sleeping, even though I am exhausted all. the. time. I actually can fall asleep really easily, but then I wake up anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours later and then I am up, anxiety ridden, till 5 am or even just never go back to bed. Then I'm so tired the next day that I can't get anything except the essentials done. I've tried limiting my caffeine, not watching TV before bed, thought it might be my 30 year old mattress I am using now and am looking in to replacing it. Then, on days when I go over to D's to work, I've been doing the bare necessities over there and then collapsing on the couch in a deep sleep while he watches the kids.

Finally, on a terrible Saturday night with no sleep at 7 in the morning on one of those days when I probably have had 5 or 6 hours of sleep in the last 72 hours, it occurred to me. This all started when the kids got to big boy beds and Aaron started destroying everything. (A condition which still comes and goes, it improved some before we had another setback). They haven't been really taking naps, either. The problem is that I don't feel like I am EVER off duty. Naim doesn't like me to go to sleep and turn off all the lights until he is asleep at night, or he starts throwing things around. Then Aaron starts throwing things around in the morning if he gets up before me. They never sleep for naps anymore. The place is pretty childproof but then I always fear those little things like what if they knock over a bookcase and kill themselves. They have already destroyed a lamp in their room. They knocked off the light bulb and it shattered to pieces. What if they electrocute themselves? What if they just simply pull all of the toilet paper out and TP my house with it? Its not the end of the world, no. But it kind of is when there are messes to clean up all the time. I spend my life cleaning these messes instead of being able to do anything fun with them. One more big mess can send me over the edge.

It is a cyclical problem where I know that their schedule needs adjusting, we need some new routines, they need some more outings and stimulation. Aaron especially needs more stimulation right now than it seems I can give him. I've been looking into preschools but many are too expensive or have a "3 by September" rule so I have to wait until next fall. I need a break. I can't get one. I don't sleep and am tired all the time, which makes me less able to find stimulating things for them to do and then they get bored and start destroying things again. And I'm never off duty. When I wake up at night, I usually think I awoke because something has happened or they need me. Or did I remember to put the locks on the closet doors? I better check. Or I need to go check and see if they both ended up asleep in their beds instead of (really!) Aaron falling asleep on top of the bookcase. I'm never done, I can never relax. Naim is a dream child mostly. If it was just him, or even two of him, I think I'd be okay. But Aaron, as it turns out, is a--shall we say--"spirited child." He is a challenge and I am not meeting his needs lately.

So over the weekend, my body just collapsed into flu and exhaustion and depression. I have not had a break from the kids (for more than 3 or 4 hours, which is rare in itself) for over three years. They have not ever had even one day apart from me or I from them. Its not right. I'm not sure what to do about it. You can say "get a babysitter" but it isn't so easy. All my affordable babysitting attempts have fallen through for various reasons. Right now, I am looking at possibly hiring a young man from my church who works in the nursery with the boys and they like him. The only issue is that he has (high functioning) autism. I don't think I could leave the house with him there. He still may be a great help if I can get some other work done or rest. Or if he can perhaps help with some of the housework kind of stuff (which I'm not sure about yet.) He also doesn't drive, so we'd have to work out transportation. I'm very interested in giving him a go, but I'm not sure how well it will work, or if it will work at all. But he's a nice kid and I'm thinking I can hire him for minimum, so we'll see.

But what this has to do with the weekend is that three times, D has come over and spent the day with the kids so I could rest. It was the only way I was not going to lose my ever-loving mind and even attempt to have some kind of Christmas for the kids. He has been a bit sick with a post-operative infection from his pump surgery. And his incision is a bit open now so the infection can drain out and he has to be careful. So it was with much guilt that I had him come over, but if he hadn't...I swear I was headed for hospitalization or something. I was getting so sick and tired that I couldn't think straight and nothing made sense that came out of my mouth. Just the very thought of my dad coming in January and bringing that dog that I will have to manage as well and clean up after was sending me right over the edge into middle of the night terrors.

Things are better, I have been catching up on sleep. But the problems remain. At least now I have a clearer head and can start to figure stuff out. I need to look at schedule. I need to look for regular outings that occur pretty frequently and will stimulate and wear Aaron out. I need to look at some more baby proofing (at this point, it is kid proofing and involves heavy duty locks, rather than those pansy-ass baby proofing products that he laughs in the face of) so that I can sleep and feel like he is at least safe somewhere. I need to pursue a regular babysitter, if not this kid then something else.

Sometimes it takes you going nuts to realize that there is a serious problem that needs serious action to be dealt with. So that was what this weekend was all about. I'll get there, but it is going to take some serious strategy.

Chapter 3: Christmas Eve

The only thing on the agenda for Christmas Eve was the church service, which I always found relaxing in previous years. The kids have done well the last few years, and I tried to set up the day so this year they would do well, too. I tried to make sure they were well rested but also a bit worn out, well fed but not needing to go to the bathroom for an hour, etc.

But! It was not to be. They seemed fine all day but when we got there, they wouldn't shut up so we went back to the 'cry room.' Our cry room actually is a little play room with windows and a speaker with the service piped in. Naim was fine after a while and I sent him out to sit with his dad. Aaron, on the other hand, won the contest for the Most Obnoxious Kid in the Room.

There were 3 or 4 other kids who ended up back there. Every time a kid would come in, Aaron would say,"I don't like him! I don't want to play with him! Go Away!"

Big fat roll eyes slam head into brick wall emoticon here.

Now, here is where again, I will never judge another mom again and I'm ashamed that I used to do this. One experience with a kid does not a bad kid make. Aaron is usually a pretty social kid who likes to play with other kids and can be very polite about sharing and trading and taking turns. But on this night, he was a brat. And he got a time out. And we struggled through the service and had a struggle to clean up all of our toys afterwords. We were going to go downstairs for their little social thing and they had the accessible door locked again (happens less and less these days, but still occasionally happens.) At this point, I was worn out and the thought of dragging my kids  in the cold around the building and through two sets of staircases to go around and unlock the door for D was more than I could take, so I just wanted to go home. Which made Aaron scream bloody murder, because he wanted to go downstairs and socialize now, of course. Now he wanted to play with the other kids. So that was relaxing Christmas Eve at the church.

I put the kids to bed so D and I could have our steak dinner in peace, and that was nice. And then I sent him home so I could finish up all the present wrapping and stuff I still hadn't gotten done.

Chapter 4: Christmas

Despite all the crabbiness and all the--well--Aaron, Christmas actually turned out pretty good. I kept the kids upstairs and fed them breakfast up there until D and his dad got here at around ten. I had the train set sitting out in the living room and I carried Aaron to the bathroom and he caught a peak of it. But it was funny. He was all, "Gasp! A surprise! (sign for surprise) I saw a surprise! (sign)" I told him to whisper so Naim wouldn't hear about the surprise, so then he started signing everything while whispering. "Gasp! A train surprise? A present? For ME?"

The Xmas morning beeline. I don't know what that face I'm making is all about.

When I took them downstairs, they made a beeline for the train set. They were pretty excited and crashed the track and bridges almost immediately, which I knew was going to happen. That track assembly is going to take a bit of practice for them, but they'll get it. Luckily, we had other presents at the ready to distract them from track frustrations. We spent the morning happily opening presents. It went quicker this year than last year. Because this year they wanted "more presents!" while last year they would play with something a while until we nudged them along to open the next one. They are starting to get this whole present thing. Yea! Consumerism!

Aaron and Naim with the train set before the hurricane hit it and left the Island of Sodor in ruins; it's minority inhabinants to be left for dead by our classist regime.

Oh! Before I forget. On cue during the present unwrapping, as if in a oversentimentalized Hallmark Channel Christmas Special, another Christmas Miracle! It started to snow! Supposedly, it hasn't snowed here on Christmas in over 56 years! (Didn't stay on the ground, though. but was pretty to watch.)

Then we went to the Christmas Dinner thing at my church. And this time the door was unlocked. It was really nice. There were more people there than I thought would be, and they had all the tables set up with candles and china and there was wine and lots and lots of food. They set up a little kid area with a kid table and chairs and some toys and markers and paper. The kids got a gift bag with candy and a small toy vehicle in it. There was another boy about their age and this time Aaron played nicely with him almost the whole time. Aaron was pretty good except that he went to the dessert table and took just one bite out of four different pieces of fudge and then put them back. Luckily, people just laughed about it. Naim stuck with his dad mostly. Usually during potluck kind of things all I do is work because I have to get food, drinks, silverware,etc. for four people by myself while watching the rugrats at the same time. By the time I'm started eating, everyone else is done. There was some of that here, too, of course, but people actually ran and fetched things for me, like a drink for Naim or a fork or dessert for the kids. When you NEVER get waited on, I mean like EVER. And you are always the one who has to get up during a meal and fetch the juice, the butter, the seconds, the whatever, then you have to clean up afterwords as well--it is so nice when someone does something simple like just gets the kids some juice that it practically makes me want to cry. I almost don't know what to do with myself. Its silly.

When I go to social functions with kids now, time warps into something I call "Toddler Time." Even if I've had a nice time and the kids were relatively well-behaved, I think I have spent hours and hours somewhere and when I leave and look at the clock, its only been like two hours and I am shocked. This is what happened here. We were the first to leave, and I  had the "get the kids to bed" excuse to use. But I thought we had been there at least 3 or 4 hours. Turns out it was only two. Well, that was enough. I'd go again next year. I figure each year these things are going to get easier and easier.

Appendix: The Loot

For both kids:

• Train set (mom)
• Set of a bunch of space shuttles and rockets (dad)
• (btw, remember the plastic hunk of kitchen junk? After dragging all the peices out twice to put it together and failing. I gave up. It is pissing me off and it is going to Freecycle.)

Naim:

• small stuffed kitty cat that meows and moves and blinks (grampa b.)
• Knit hat (grampa B.)
• matchbox airplane
• creepy feeling rubber dragon and dinosaur
• Melissa and Doug farm jigsaw puzzle
• Animal planet safari animal playset
• Max and Ruby book (Julie)
• School house puzzle (Julie)
• Fisher Price turtle game
• 2 finger puppets
• Little school bus (from church)
• Candy
• Train Christmas Ornament
• Gift certificates (the SILs)

Naim discovering the wonders of "More Presents!"

Aaron:

• little stuffed dog that barks, etc. (grampa b.)
• knit hat (grampa b.)
• matchbox airplane
• Creepy dinosaur and dragon
• Little people helicopter
• Melissa and Doug train puzzle
• Roger the Snake book (Julie)
• Barney Puzzle (Julie)
• Fisher Price Oreo game
• 2 finger puppets
• little ambulance car (from church)
• candy
• Volkswagen bug Christmas ornament
• gift certificates (the SILs)

D helping Aaron unwrap. This is Scrooge of me, but I f*ing hate that Santa hat D wears every year. Which is probably why he wears it.

D:

• sweater (parents)
• wheelchair reflector light (parents)
• security video camera (his B/SIL) We were kind of dumbfounded by this one. We both said, Oooh! a good gift! We have been thinking for a long time about how to give D access to the kids room upstairs, because they are starting to want him to go up there to show him things. We thought about hooking up video somehow. So this is (I think) what that is in mind for. Although I think he is going to exchange it for one that can work on his computer instead of the TV, it is still a thoughtful gift.
• RAM (me) Isn't this romantic? Isn't it special? Over the weekend I finally confessed to him that I suck. I didn't get him anything. I said to pick out something he wants and I will get it for him...and he picked RAM for his computer. I said email me the exact thing you want and where to get it and I will order it, so that's what I did.
• His favorite oatmeal choc chip cookies (me and the kids.)

Me:

• Kitchen timer (D) This is a joke. I've somehow managed to break, like, 4 of them. I use them for turn taking for the kids or getting them to pick up their mess in a certain amount of time or occasionally for time outs.
• Chocolate (D)
• iPod Shuffle (D) This is a good little iPod for me. I needed one that works without a screen which I can't see.

*If you are wondering about gifts from my family, I have asked them to contribute to my "trip back to the Midwest" fund. My fake grandmother is 85 years old, and I am determined to try to make it back with the kids this spring/summer. It is expensive to fly for the three of us!

Christmas? What the...?

Christmas is catching me decidedly off-guard this year. Between hospitalizations, eye emergencies, belated Thanksgivings, Birthdays, and bacterial infections requiring daily IM injections (D), I just haven't been able to think about it and it is upon me and meh.

I haven't been able to shop much because for the last two weeks I've been heavily working on potty training Naim. I'd write the requisite post about it but I just...can't. Its not that it isn't going so well...there has been marked improvement...but it is a long road and very tiring. He is 100% potty-trained if I leave him in the house naked. He goes on his own, I don't even have to remind him. Put underpants on him and he drops to 75%. With pants as well it drops to 50%. Take him out of the house and it drops to 0% (except at Dad's house where we have a potty chair.) He is deathly afraid of the toilet. Its not the flushing, he likes to flush. It is the sitting on it that freaks him out. I've tried stools, little potty seats, he is freaked by it. Not sure how to jump that hurdle. (Ironically, Aaron has no problem sitting on the toilet but refuses to go.) He understands accidents now and doesn't like having them, so if we are out and he has to go, a crisis erupts. It makes it hard to go out. I've even resorted to pull-ups when we are out. The saddest thing about all this? When I figure this out and am done with him? I have a whole 'nother kid to do. Depressing.

So, I've done almost zilch Christmas Shopping. Not that I really wanted to get much stuff for them. I'm up to my neck in toys in a very small house. They don't need anything. I decided to get them one gift, a big gift that I know they are going to be ecstatic over. It is a trundle train set that can slide under their bed.

(low sitting train table on casters with tracks, bridges and train set stuff on it.)

Other than that and a few small stocking stuffers, I wasn't going to get them anything else. I know that D got them some model space shuttles (they are space shuttle/rocket NUTS right now) and I think some kind of little dinosaur playset. (Cute as hell to see kids this age talking about Tri-SAR-it-TOPS and ty-RONNA-saurus RECK-s). So thought that was done, but then we have just received a very generous slew of donations in the past couple of weeks. Its a bit weird, we didn't ever ask for anything and these aren't given to us like presents, but people have been dropping by with small used toys and puzzles. So now I think they also are getting a few puzzles, a few books, and a couple of games (well, those I actually got off freecycle).

And then, the worst (yet very generous) toy came. It is big, it is plastic, the kids will LOVE it, and worst of all, it isn't assembled.

When I opened the box I was confronted with sheet after sheet of plastic shit that needs to be snapped apart and put together with screws. I can't even understand the directions and the parts are all labeled within the molded plastic itself and I can't see them unless I kind of Braille my way through it. I am totally dreading the prospect. I'm thinking of giving it up, but then the person who gave it to us will come over and its not like its a toy you can HIDE easily, so its absence will be noticed. I might let them play with it for a few months and then donate it somewhere. There just really isn't room for it. I'm not sure if this picture is it, but it is like this:

(smallish toy kitchen)

My other problem is D. I have NOTHING for him. Nothing. Whenever I think about it my mind draws a complete blank. I've had no time to shop and when I shop online, he is too hard to shop for. A lot of things I think of getting him need to be checked out for 'accessibility.' Will he be able to push the buttons on that? Will these pants fit over his prosthetic? Will this work on his computer? etc. He is really someone you have to shop for with him there to try things out. Otherwise, I'm going to have to join the Fleece Pullover Club(tm). The FPC(tm) are his family members who give him a fleece pullover for every. single. birthday and Christmas. They actually gave me quite a few as well back when they got me anything. Its not that he is against fleece pullovers, but if you are getting two or three a year, you end up having thousands. We always joked before we went to Christmas stuff, "Well, lets go get our fleece pullovers!" And on the way home, "I'm glad I got another black/gray/navy fleece pullover to add to my extensive black/gray/navy fleece pullover collection." Its not that we are seriously mad about the FPC(tm) its just become a running joke. But it is an easy choice for him. Shirts fit him pretty standard, unlike pants. He's always cold. Just grab an XL fleece thing and be done with it. I'm getting so desperate that I might have to sink to the level of the FPC(tm).

Or maybe I'll just hand him a wad of cash. I dunno. Any ideas?

I pulled out the tree last week, and I'm finding that I really hate doing it. My sister always complained about having a tree and so for years we never had one. At my mom's last Christmas, I insisted that we go out and get a tree. And I remember my dad saying in the Christmas Tree store (we don't do live trees), "We will always remember this as the time we bought your mom her last Christmas Tree." And he was right. I have that tree now, and that is what it always reminds me of. I feel like I can't get rid of it but yet I feel like I don't really want it, either.

Besides, it is too big for our living room, the automatic lights on it don't work anymore after we had a power outage last year. It is a bitch to put together and not that fun to do alone. I have only a few ornaments for it. I'm just kind of meh about it. I don't mind the stockings and a few other Christmas knick knacks. I'm contemplating perhaps just getting a few more decorations like that (wreath, etc.) next year and not having a tree. But D thinks this is sacrilege. "The kids need a tree."

So I'm trying to find a compromise. We have a pretty blue spruce in our backyard. What if we had a solstice tree? We can put outdoor lights on it and decorate it with edibles (bird seed pine cones, cranberry garland, etc.) for the animals? That is what the whole tree tradition started as anyway. It has nothing to do with Christmas. It was to honor the animals struggle through the darkest part of winter as the night shifted away from the darkness into daylight. Or maybe just a small tree indoors. I don't know. But I'm thinking after Christmas I might give this tree away to Freecycle. I still have a mom attachment to it, so I want it to go to a good home. I know, its a bit silly.

But I'm starting to get a little tiny bit psyched. Friday, weather permitting, I'm meeting a friend with a little girl my kid's age and we are going to zoo lights. Its where you ride the zoo train and see the billion lights they have decorated the zoo with. The kids will love that...and I'll be cold. So it is good to have another mom to be cold with.

Christmas eve we will do our church's evening service. We've done it every year and its about the most Christmas-y thing we do. There is no nursery care, so the kids stay with us. They do try to fill it with kid friendly stuff. Lots of music, bells, candles, little Christmas stories and skits. The kids have done well the last two years we've gone, so hopefully it will be okay.

We will probably come home and have nice dinner of fillet minion. I get a gift every year from one of my mother's friends. It is kind of a secret. For the last three Decembers, I've gotten a good sized shipment of Omaha Steaks . They felt sad not being able to send my mom gift they sent her after she died, so now they send it to me (well, it is really technically for Aaron and Naim, so they will grow into strong, Nebraska beef fed boys. Heh. But they don't like the steaks, but will eat the burgers). The most fun thing about it is that it comes packed in dry ice, and this year we had fun making "clouds" in my kitchen with the dry ice under water in the sink. The kids thought that was the coolest thing evah. So, we've had steaks for Christmas eve now, and that has become sort of a tradition. Maybe someday the kids will stop being finicky enough to join us, but usually I just make them a hamburger or hot dog while D and I eat the steaks. Its about the only time I eat that much red meat all year.

This year on Christmas, after unwrapping presents in the morning, we are going to our church's refuge Christmas dinner. Its just a potluck for anyone who doesn't have better plans. It is just kind of sad and boring and anticlimactic to sit around by ourselves on Christmas. And I want the kids to know other adults and have good and special memories of other adults on Christmas. Otherwise, after presents, it is not too different than an ordinary day. So we are going to try this, and the woman who organizes it has really gone out of her way to encourage us to come. It just seems to me that our kids don't have any extended family here, really, and there are other adults (many older folks) who are lonely because they don't have any grandkids to spend the holidays with...why not get together with them? Besides, then I only have to make one dish and not a whole dinner to clean up after. And I'm all for that.

Sometime here we need to make sugar cookies or something, too. That is a tradition I'm stealing from my MIL (not that 48 billion other people don't bake for the holidays as well). But that is one thing I always enjoyed about spending holidays with D's family. That they had cooking/baking traditions. So I'm trying to incorporate some of that. Naim absolutely positively LOVES to cook. Aaron likes it, too. But Naim is always running in wanting to help me cook whenever I am in the kitchen. And it is such a teachable experience. You do math, reading, fine motor skills, sequencing, sensory/texture stuff, etc. Cooking has been a real Naim and Mom thing where we get to really spend time talking and doing stuff together. Its something I would like to make sure we always do at Christmas.

So that's the plan. Except for D's present and the potty training, I think I've managed to make it enjoyable, traditional, and not too pressure filled. Hope yours is as well!

Life is Sweet, and I've Got Pictures to Prove It

Lots of posts here lately. Tonight I'm feeling the need to blow off laundry and instead write some sort of counter-agent to all the bitchin' and moanin' I've been doing for the last week or so. This, of course, has to include pictures of cute kids. My little stars, they still twinkle.

I said I was going to have D take some pics of us with the KUV, and lacking phone power today, I was not able to connect with him for that purpose. But we went walking anyway, and I took pictures.

I really like walking with this thing outside on walks, although because of its size, it is not ideal for every indoor/shopping/bus situation. However, despite the fact that I seem to be using new muscles in my back I must have not used for a while, it is a smooth ride that can handle a lot of terrain and grade changes. I have noticed that I am willing to go on more unfamiliar walking routes with it, because I don't have to concentrate so hard on the orientation and mobility (blindspeak for getting around) aspect of it. I tend to have routes where I know every bump in the sidewalk that is coming up. With the ease in which I can travel out front with the kids directly behind me in this thing, I am more inclined to go to unfamiliar places.

Also, this thing is really one of the key elements that I needed to push me out of ambivalence about getting another guide dog. I was pretty sure I wanted to before, and probably really needed to, but the thought of handling the dog and two kids was quite overwhelming. People think guide dogs are well behaved machines. In truth, guide dogs--especially young ones--are just like having another toddler. You really have to stay on top of them. It really will be like having triplets. Only one I get to leash! (And the other two get to be stapled in the wagon.) So I think it will be manageable.

I'm getting pretty psyched about the whole guide dog thing. Besides the KUV, they are building a new dog park close to me. It isn't walking distance, but it is an easy bus ride. Some of my favorite memories with Mara were taking her to dog hangouts and the little cult of dog people you get to know there. Also, I've been taking every opportunity to go up to my neighbors with big dogs and ask them if the kids can spend time with their dog. The kids really like the big dogs and are not scared of them. And for me, just visiting them brings me warm, fuzzy feelings of Mara. I spent nearly 24 hours a day with Mara for 11 years. Besides my kids, I don't think I've had a closer bond with anyone else, human, animal, or mineral. I'm looking forward to having a dog in the house for safety reasons as well. These past couple of years have been the only years I have lived alone without pets in ages. When you are deaf, it is really hard to live alone and not be sure what you are hearing all the time. Especially when I have to be responsible for the kids as well. Having a dog in the house just gives you so much input on what is going on in the environment. If you think you hear something, but the dog is still sleeping, you can relax. I'm also looking forward to the dog being able to identify me as disabled. I lost part of that identity without her and it makes it so hard for people to understand and remember that I really can't hear them or see them. The guide dog is such a huge cue to people that it is way easier to get help in restaurants, the bus stops, wherever.

One of the best things that I'm looking forward to now that I most certainly wasn't before is going to guide dog school to get the dog. This is still very tentative, but here is the plan: I'll be going to the local school (a bit over an hour away) next July for probably about three weeks. Shannon and Nat (yes, that Shannon) have so very graciously volunteered to come take care of the boys for me. I can't wait for the boys to meet Nat and get to play with her! After I'm done, we are hoping that Cole can come and also some friends from Seattle and all of us spend some time at the coast together. ALSO! And extra bonus if we are lucky and can pull this off. Nik is going to try and also get in the same class with me. Nik and I met in '93 when we both got our first guide dogs in New York. Mara died in '04 and his dog, Jats, died in '05. And we've both been sort of tentatively waiting for each other to be in a position to get another dog so we could do it together again. If he can come keep me company through the monotony that is guide dog training and then I have a coast trip with the Shannon clan (and maybe Nik can come, too!), then--hey, I have lots to look forwards to and maybe guide dog school won't be so bad after all. I'm hoping my dad and I can drive out to the school this summer and check it out. But I'm already in the application process and they know my time line, so I think we are in good shape.

But it will be good for me to practice my cane skills with the kids and work out my back muscles with driving this kid wagon thing to get ready. Today we went for a walk to another neighborhood across the road from me. We went to a different playground because I'm tired of ours. I was thinking about "sacred moments."

The potluck thing I missed the other night was with my church's "family" group. We are 5 families with small children and we meet once a month and discuss a topic and eat food. The topic was "sacred moments." Since I wasn't there, I'm not sure what direction they went with that, but I was just thinking today how kids keep you so much in the present moment. Sure, sometimes the present moment just can't pass fast enough so you can get to naptime, But anything where you can stay in the moment and live it without being haunted by the past or worried for the future is, in and of itself, a sacred moment. I've had these moments when ice skating, when writing, when talking with friends, when, in my younger days, I went riding on the back of motorcycles wrapped around some hot guy. Sometimes they only last a split second because it is so hard to stay in the moment. Even when they are sad moments, like when you are with someone when they die, if you can stay in the present moment, it seems to be sacred to me. Maybe because I have such a hard time doing it. But kids really help you with this because they live there all the time. It is as if time is suspended all around you and it is just you and them and whatever fascinating thing they've discovered today like a new leaf or a wild flower or a padlocked old shed.

Today (despite Vonage) was a pretty good day.

Your turn is your turn and my turn is mine/and we use our thank yous all of the time.

Maybe it's because last week was so horrible with all the barfing and the pooping of the liquid, but this week with the kids was really good. I had fun!

Update on all of us sickies: We all had what was most likely rotavirus. I got terribly, horribly barfing, dehydrated sick last Wednesday. I actually called D and said he had to get over and spot me in case I lost consciousness. This was probably an exaggerated fear, I wasn't really in danger of passing out. It's just that the last time I had a really bad stomach flu, which was years ago, I totally passed out on the bathroom floor. The next thing I remember was waking up and seeing the bottom of my then boyfriend's chin and the sky as he was carrying me through the parking lot to the ER. I'm such a sexy date sometimes. This was all probably exacerbated by the fact that I had just gotten out of the hospital a few days earlier with a kidney surgery and a stent holding my ureter open had fallen into my bladder and caused an infection. But since then, every time I throw up I think I'm going to pass out any second of dehydration. I'm weird that way. I make these asinine associations with things that have nothing to do with each other and then can't shake them.

So anyway, D spotted me while I barfed. I was okay within 24 hours, but then he got sick. Aaron was sick on and off throughout the week. D took a few days to get well. I'm telling you all this because of the most amazing thing: After being surrounded by all our puke and whatever else for a week...Naim never got sick. Not even close. He is Amazingly Healthy Superhero Man. That makes me very happy, though, because I don't think I could have handled one more puke mess.

This week it was just me and the kids most of the time all week. And for the first time in weeks, we were all healthy at the same time. We had spent several days stuck in the house together and finally were able to get out. I went back to the gym after missing a week. This gave the kids time away from me and time out of the house. I could really tell that they needed that. They were just happy and fun almost entirely from morning till night. We did lots of stuff, coloring and little games and play-doh and some little sticker workbooks that they like. We "cooked" together. I had them making jello and apple juice (from frozen) and macaroni and cheese and simple stuff like that. I always try to sneak some vegetables in the mac and cheese. And I just put some frozen mixed veggies in this batch--itty, bitty carrots and peas and corn--and wouldn't you know that Aaron ate around every single vegetable. He is still incredibly picky, but Naim has been on an eating spree and eats everything I put in front of him. I think he is growing bigger than Aaron now.

For the first time alone without my dad, I took them for some walks around the neighborhood without the stroller. I guess I have taken them around my block before by myself, but this time we walked to D's house one day and to a playground today. They both hold on to one of my hands. It has worked okay so far. They do a good job.

This may sound weird but walking with them like this reminds me of walking with my guide dog. Part of it is just the constant presence of having a living thing attached to you all the time. That gentle pull on your left hand is just something that gets built into your muscle memory after you do it for eleven years. And the feel of the pattern of their footsteps. I walked about one step for my dog's two, and it is about the same pace with the kids, just slower. And part of it is that we make sure we stop and curbs and stuff, which my guide dog always did. And then pause when we go up the opposite curb. Every once in a while a kid will refuse to go my direction. I use a technique I used with my dog when she would stall around (usually not while working). I would just keep walking and she would get uncomfortable being left behind and catch up after a minute. This makes me a little nervous to do with the kids. My neighborhood has nearly zero traffic during the day and I don't go more than probably 8 feet until they want to catch up. I just stand there and wait and finally they come when they see I'm not going to give in. It is about a billion times harder to get twins to go the same direction or to catch one if they decide to go opposite directions. So just waiting and not turning around and fetch the other one makes the one you've got with you stay on track as well. It is something we are still working on, so we are a long way from going stroller-less in the world outside my little neighborhood. But they did surprisingly well this week. And it was really nice out, so we had some nice walks.

Yesterday, we went to our little art class at the children's museum. On Tuesdays it is clay and "sculpture" and on Thursdays it is painting. It is a drop in class, so my goal is to go a couple of times a month. We have to take the train and get there by ten. The whole thing from my house to the front door of the museum takes about 45 minutes. But everything on public transportation takes that long, so that really isn't bad at all. The class is a bit like a preschool. They have a little circle time, then they have art stations that they rotate through, then they wash hands and go back to the circle for a snack and a book. The book is usually something about art, but I can never hear/see it so I don't know what exactly. Then they go next door and have a little music class. Then I usually let them play in the museum for a half hour or so, and then we head home. It is a nice little day for them, they really like it.

It is a lot of work for me though to supervise them. Parents have to supervise, there is only one staff member present and about 10 kids in art and about 35(!) in music. Let me just say that 45 minutes is an endlessly long time to supervise two kids to paint. Like, and make sure they don't hurl paint trays across the room or what not. I am way more exhausted than them by the end. Aaron can do his own thing, I just need to watch to make sure he doesn't spill something or steal another kid's paintbrush or something. Naim is tougher. He gets freaked out if he gets paint on his hands, his clothes, the floor, the (covered) table. I'm trying to get him to loosen up about it. But I usually end up just letting him clean up as he goes, because that is what makes him happy. He usually lasts about 30 minutes and then I let him wash his hands and play with puzzles in the circle area instead of paint. I'm doing these art classes for Naim, so he can work on his hypersensitivity to texture, and messes. As I've said before, the kid is a wee bit spectrum-y. I still think there is a chance he might grow out of some of this. I hope it doesn't get worse. That is what I'm trying to prevent. The other excellent thing about these classes is the kids make a big mess and I don't have to clean it up! Yea, Children's Museum!

I have to say that I feel really stupid now that I wasted my money on Gymboree classes last year. They were horribly expensive for a 45 minute class, which is why we quit. They don't do anything there that the children's museum doesn't do, and the children's museum does a ton more. A year membership for the kids and I costs $75, compared to I think it was over a hundred dollars per kid for just ten 45 minute classes at Gymboree. And Gymboree had this crazy-ass rule about not letting me (anyone) supervise both their children at once. You had to either bring an extra person, or take the family class which was geared to kids 6 months to 5 years. Chaotic. The museum art classes cost a whole $2.50 per kid at a drop-in rate. Plus the music class is free, plus all the other stuff they have there (plays, puppet shows, tons of different play areas, and the best part--a big train set!). You do end up seeing some of the same moms and kids there, too. So there are some chances to make connections. Gymboree didn't make it that easy to talk to other moms because the teacher was always screaming at hyper pitches. Anyway, this is all to say that I think Gymboree is kind of a crock. And that the kids and I are having fun in their art classes.

What else? When I was working in Child Life, I made some connections at Boys Town Hospital in Omaha. (I went to high school across the street from Boys Town and we had a lot of boys town kids in my classes, so this is actually a way back school connection.) Anyhoo, She sent me a bunch of DVDs made by Boys Town institute that are ASL-ed classic children's books. Cool, cool. This guy signs the story and then shows the illustration of each page. The guy is a character. He has one of those mustaches that probably has another name but I call it a "Colonel Mustard" stache. It like winds around his cheeks like a beard but his chin is shaved. Anyway, Naim is just freaked out fascinated by this guy. He goes back and forth from panic to wonder at him. Sometimes he stands in front of the TV and just starts signing like crazy with his whole body. He isn't really signing anything, he is just pretending to, but it is hilarious. Other times, he covers his eyes when the guy signs and then uncovers them when they show the picture. He really likes an Eric Carle one about a chameleon.

I have a whole 'nother post in my head about the kids and socialization and their status as sorta KODAs (Kid of Deaf Adult) and what that might mean for them. But I have to save that for another time. But I really think they need to be around more signers. I would love to find a KODA group for them where they could be around kids who sign, or even a group of deaf kids with hearing parents--but so far, no can find besides a few camps. We probably will take a class next year with the homeschooling coop called beginning sign. They will probably know most of the vocab already, but at least they will be around other signers besides mom and Rachel from Signing Time, who they also call mom. Now we have Colonel Mustard, so that's good, too. They are starting to see that the rest of the world doesn't sign. I really want them to know some signers.

Speaking of Rachel from signing time, if I ever meet her, I'm going to thank her for helping us figure out this your turn/my turn business. This whole taking turns business is finally starting to sink in to their heads. Its one of those things that you wear yourself out talking about and think they will never get and then finally they do. I'm not saying they always take turns, by god no-not in a million years. But they know what I mean when I say it. And they know how to do it. Signing Time has a song about Please/Thank you/Share/Your turn/My turn and all the corresponding signs. They love this song and they love the your turn/my turn signs. Sometimes we just play a game where we take turns doing the sign for taking turns. All kinds of fun. And Naim says and signs thank you all day long whenever I hand him anything. I know he doesn't quite get it because he also tells me thank you when he hands me stuff. But it is really cute.

One last cutie thing I want to remember. When Naim puts his pants on in the morning, we have started to have to do this whole elaborate farewell to his knees. Naim has a very special relationship to his knees. He used to be in love with his elbows. In fact, I have several pictures of Naim's elbows that he made me take. But elbows recently gave way to knees. And we have to say, "Bye knee! Bye bye, other knee!" when we are pulling up his pants. And then we have to kiss them. He does and I do and sometimes even Ernie and Elmo do, too. And then, what a joy it is at bedtime when he gets reunited with his knees. There is lots of kissing and hugging there as well. Hey, they are really cute knees, I must admit.

Oh, now I don't feel like I've written enough about Aaron. Must always keep it equal! Aaron is just verbal word boy. He repeats everything I say with near perfect enunciation and learns words faster than I can keep track. We have little conversations all the time where he tells me stuff. I was so excited the other day because he is actually starting to tell me stuff that happened at daycare. I asked him what he played the other day, and he said something I didn't understand which sounded like Hi-EEK. I didn't get it at first so he goes over to the corner, plants himself against the wall, counts to ten, and then says perfectly, "Ready! Not! Here I Come!" Oh! Hide and Seek! We never played that, at least not the ready-or-not part. So he actually understood that I was asking him about daycare and told me what he did. Whoo hoo, what fun.

Okay, that's it. Just thought I'd tell ya that parenting is fun!

First Walk in Snow/Dressing Twins

Where I live, it snows about one or two days a year, if even at all. Coming from the Midwest, I grew up with harsh winters. I remember sliding to the school bus and riding in it for an hour to get 2 miles as we slowly inched down the street. To get a snow day in Nebraska, the snow would have to have been piled so high that the doors to the school were blocked by at least 20 feet of it. And then we had to walk uphill both ways to dig ourselves through it anyway, without mittens, and having had no porridge to eat because the cupboards were bare.

We laugh at them here because when there is a bit of snow, the whole city shuts down. I understand it, because people do not own snow shovels or ice scrapers or even snow boots. The city does not have a team of snowplows that scrape and salt, they have like maybe one. But it is still funny even though I had been here for almost ten years now.

Where I used to work, I walked 16 blocks each way to a bus stop every day. One day, the first year I lived here, there was just a spattering of snow on the ground, and everyone started leaving. I wasn't even aware that people were leaving for a few hours because I hadn't even thought of it. Then, the last few people came to me and asked me if I would mind staying and locking up because they needed to get their cars home and out of the snow and I didn't drive. (Yeah, I only have to WALK 16 BLOCKS in it!!!) But whatever, I said it was fine. I should have checked before I left, but I honestly didn't think about the whole city shutting down for this. There wasn't even more than 2 or 3 inches of accumulation and there were some ice patches, but not that bad. I walked my 16 blocks and waited, and waited, and waited. Then I realized that the bus wasn't coming. The streets were deserted. I ducked into a liquor store and called a cab. No deal. They weren't coming to get me. I ended up walking another 2 1/2 miles home. And although it wasn't all that enjoyable, it wasn't like I was dying and freezing, either. I have found from going back and forth from the west coast to the midwest that people develop a tolerance for weather based on their climate. I have noticed that I have lost some of my tolerance for the cold that I had when I first moved here. When I go back to Kansas now, the minute I step out of the plane in the winter, even when I'm in that tunnel-y thing, I'm all "Jesus and all that is Holy in the Universe! How the hell do people live like this? Fuck! This is inhumane to expect me to deplane to these conditions! Why not just flush the toilet while I'm in the shower repeatedly instead? ..." and a continuous trail of profanities that last till I get home. I've become such a weather wimp. And I'm still not as bad as most of the people here.

One controversial thing that I do is that I expose my kids to the elements. (I mean controversial in that "Let's dump on moms" way that is all the rage now, not in the "ethical dilemma of our times" way.) No, I don't throw them out into the cold naked or anything. I do nothing that would endanger their lives and health. I try to keep them as comfortable as possible with hats, coats, rain gear, and sometimes lap blankets for the strollers. But we go out. In the cold and rain. And we walk and wait for buses and trains. No matter what. Because that is our life. There are times when I know that they are uncomfortable because I am as well. And if it gets too bad, I try to hurry, make a run for it, or duck inside a building for a bit. But these kids are the children of a pedestrian public transit user, and a quadriplegic that takes a hell of a long time to get into the car. They need to build up a tolerance for weather. They need to build up the skills to plan for weather, walk in it and plan the best transportation options, know the minimum that they need to carry to not be caught in it, what to do if it does actually become dangerous when they are out in it, things like that. Being a pedestrian and taking public transit requires a different set of skills than just passively jumping in the car with mom and dad. I imagine that they will be drivers when they get older, but for the next 16 years, they will be pedestrians. And that means they deal with weather. And as much as some would like to think that a good mom doesn't expose her kid to even a second of cold discomfort, in my mind, I need to help them learn to deal with it. And besides, this is the pacific northwest. It rarely ever gets below freezing here, so chances are slim that I will kill them via exposure.

It seems weird to me that my kids are going to grow up here, in this land without seasons. We have a rainy season and a dry season. That's it. Of course, we have access to snow year round in the mountains. And we have the ocean and lots of green all year round, which I never had. But my kids probably won't own a sled, or a snow suit, or snow boots, or even a winter coat. Most people here purchase a really good raincoat with gor-tex that is a bit big, and then just layer fleece sweatshirts or vests under it on colder days.

If it ever snowed the kids' first winter, I don't remember. I wouldn't have taken them out in it anyway. Last Winter, It snowed one day. My dad and I wrapped the kids up in blankets and took them out in it for a few minutes. They couldn't walk yet so there was no putting them down. And they didn't have warm enough clothes to stay out long anyway. It was a real pretty snowfall, and I remember the kids reaching out their hands to catch snowflakes, and Aaron even stuck out his tongue. I doubt they remember this at all. They know what snow is, as a vocabulary word at least, because of TV and books. But they don't know it like they know rain. They GET rain.  But today, I think it all came together for them in their first walk in the snow. They were mesmerized. They were a bit afraid to touch it at first. But they liked to walk around in it and see their footprints. They liked it when we would take a snowball and throw it up in the air and they liked to shake it off the plants. (Another weird Oregon thing is that some plants are still green with leaves on them and the grass is still green. It's weird to see nice, healthy green grass under the snow.)

So, today the whole city shut down. My dad went all the way to the gym to find it closed. No mail, even. And we spent some time with the kids and their first walk in the snow. It might be there for a day or two, then our traditional Winter will be over and they will have to wait till next year.

***************

I'm going to answer a quick question here that has nothing to do with snow. I've been asked about my feelings on the dressing twins alike thing. And in general, I think it is better to not dress your twins alike. Certainly not when they are old enough to pick out their own clothes. I think it is the individuality thing. They get categorized as "TWINS" enough by people and mixed up enough. You may have noticed that I rarely ever refer to my kids as "twins." Because people take that as if they are a set of something, rather than two individuals who just happened to share the same gestation period. They are going to have unique twin things that they share, and that is fine as long as it is on their terms. But in general, I don't think it is a good idea to dress them alike.

Now, having said that, If you look at my pictures you will notice that I am a big hypocrite. I do dress my kids very similarly most of the time. And sometimes exactly alike. Most of the time they are in different colors of the same outfit. In the next year or most certainly when they are three, they should be starting to choose their own clothing and dress themselves. And when that happens, all like dressing is off, unless they choose to do it themselves. But for now, I have my reasons for dressing them similarly.

• People give me doubles of everything as gifts or donations all the time. Every clothing gift for the boys I've ever gotten has been two matching outfits. No exceptions. Also, I received a lot of donated clothing from a mom of twins who dressed her boys alike. It's what I have. I have pairs of everything.
• But, I will admit to buying pairs of clothing myself. Mostly because I think shopping for boys clothing in the discount stores that I shop in is a huge bore. When I find something I like in the kids size, it is just easier to grab two of them. I do try to get different colors though. I don't think I've ever bought anything for them that was exactly alike.
• Stores sometimes have twin discounts on items where if you get 2 of the same things, they will take 10% off or something. The Gor-tex coats they are wearing above are a twin discounted purchase. (Ask about it at places like Baby Depot and Toys R Us).
• I know that I could have two of everything and just dress them differently each day, but this is a management issue. I have, I kid you not, shitloads of laundry that I do between the usual stuff and kids clothes and cloth diapers. It is easiest for me, for a number of reasons, to fold things up and put them away in matching sets of two outfits. This way, in the morning when we are rushing to get us all out the door, I can just grab two outfits that are all ready to go with socks, shoes, etc. It is easier to do this when things match.
• Also, along with this, because I can't see well, it is easier to manage different outfits when there is less variety. And to just grab a stack of shirts and pants that go together in the morning rather than trying to see or feel what matches what.
• On some occasions, I need assistance with supervising my kids. Like in the gymboree classes we used to take. If one of my kids ended up across the room, I could just grab another mom and ask her where the kid that is dressed like this one is. When they are babies, it helps for people to know that they both go with me. Dressing them alike helps with this. Also, it helps ME see them by color when I can't see them well. I don't have to remember what they are wearing as much.
• Okay, it is kind of cute. But, really, I can stop any time I want to.

Truthfully, I don't have a big hang-up about it. When they are ready to take over the dressing, they can choose what they want (within reason) and matching each other certainly won't be a requirement.

Thoughts from The Fourth Dimension

This is just a little nothing thing, or maybe a huge gigantic thing, I want to remember:

Almost five years ago, D was in the hospital and was extremely ill. At one point he had a surgery and the surgeon came out to the waiting room and was all doom and gloom and told us that D had no hope of recovery and that he was going to die. Here is an excerpt from my old blog that day from a post I called "Will and Grace"~~

Do you know that movie, "Somewhere In Time" with Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour where, when after traveling through time to find her and everything seems wonderful...he finds a penny from like 1979 that blows his illusion of time travel to bits and he sees all his dreams just sucked away in a split second? It's bad 1970's special effects, but the way they just literally yank him from his happiness and his love is quite dramatic.

My version of this on Thursday might not be quite so romantic, but I had exactly that feeling of just all my hopes and dreams being physically sucked out of my body in one abortive brutal vacuum suck.

.....long expository on D's surgery and my conference with the doctor and my subsequent trip to the hospital bathroom that I'll skip...

The minute I got to the bathroom, I guess I had what you could call a panic attack. I have heard of these. I couldn't breathe and felt like throwing up and in one instance had the worst headache I've ever had in my life. It all came on instantaneously. I had to lay down on the floor and just try to press some cool tile on my head to keep it from exploding.

It was there that I saw it all slip away. I didn't know exactly what to think of what Dr. God said. My instincts told me it wasn't right. But I didn't know. I didn't see the dead bone and infection. Everything I have been promising for D, that things would get better, that his pain would decrease, that he would be able to go back to school and maybe get a job, that we could buy a house together, that he could be a part of my future children's life, that he would live...just got sucked away. Maybe this is it. Maybe I will lose another one. Maybe I will be the only one remaining when everyone else I love is gone.

...and later I say...

When a situation seems bleak and hopeless, and you may lose someone you love, and every part of you wants to just escape and cut your losses and you totally have the means to do it, but you don't, it strips away all the bullshit. You stay because you love someone. You don't have to analyze it or define it or wonder why or if its normal or whatever. Its at your very core. Its unquestionable. Sometimes I wonder if many people know that feeling until after someone dies. I have been able to know it with many people while we are still living.

I remember that night that when I got home I was exhausted but couldn't sleep. I had rented the movie "Sweet November" earlier because my friend J said I was like the main character and knowing nothing of the film, I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing or what. I ended up falling asleep after about 5 minutes into it. I kind of dozed on and off while the movie was still playing. You know when you wake up with just that feeling of dread and fear washes over you after an instant? Like you can't possibly take something? It was a lot of that. I remember waking up in kind of a daze at one point, and that song by Enya was playing in the movie. "Only Time." Here is a quick lyric cut and paste:

Who can say where the road goes,
Where the day flows?
Only time...

And who can say if your love grows,
As your heart chose?
Only time...

Who can say why your heart sighs,
As your love flies?
Only time...

And who can say why your heart cries,
When your love dies?
Only time...

Who can say when the roads meet,
That love might be,
In your heart.

And who can say when the day sleeps,
The moon still keeps on moving
If the night keeps all your heart?
Night keeps all your heart...

And there is a point to this, I'm getting there. I remember laying there in the dark and just in dread and hearing those lines and thinking how easy it would be to just run away, but how impossible. And how I was trapped either way. And just wondering where I would be in five years' time. Would I be alone? Having long since gone to D's funeral and placed his memory carefully in that space reserved for all my friends and loved ones that have died? Would I have moved on? Or would I be cracked and ruined with grief? Or could it be possible that this would all turn out OK, and we would be living in our own house, with our own kid, having our own jobs and that near fatal health problem would be a distant memory that we barely thought about anymore? The future was at a crossroads at that point and I had absolutely no control over it. It could have gone either way. Who can say where the day goes? I just had to ride with it.

I had totally forgot about that moment until just a few moments ago. I flipped channels and there it was. The movie, Sweet November , right at that moment playing that song. (I still haven't watched that whole movie and I still don't have any idea what J meant.) And the movie asked me the five year old questions, and I realized that now I can answer my previous self. Time has answered and we are not in the worst case scenario or the best. But we are doing pretty well. We are still here.

There are these moments that I have where I can't believe I'm here and this is happening. Last night, D and I went to the Covenant Group thing, which I guess I can't talk a lot about because we have a confidentiality agreement. But I think I can say some generalities. After the meeting portion, we got several kids out of child care and sat around and had a potluck. The children ran around the room being children. And I just have these little flashes of "oh, my god, not only is D here but we have two more." My mother is gone, which I never would have dreamed five years ago, but my father is here--another thing I never would have guessed. Actually here, with me and having a part in my family. Agreeing to weekly family meetings. Agreeing to anger management classes. Buying the kids tricycles. Dropping us off to church on Sunday Morning.

Today the kids and I went to church early so I could teach at the first service. D came for the second service and I met him upstairs. Afterwords, he stayed upstairs for a few minutes to talk to some people while I went down and got the kids out of child care. I was in a corner of the social hall, giving the kids juice and crackers and waiting for D. The kids had not known he was there or seen him yet today. Then, he comes in from across the room. In his new wheelchair, with his new foot, healthier than he has been for two years. The kids see him and go running across the room towards him. "Daddy!"

It is these little simple moments of sort of magical disbelief that seem like a miracle to me. That I wish I could somehow send back to my 32-year-old stressed and scared self. "Look how things turned out! See? It will be okay! Better than O.K." And then it helps me believe that my five years from now self may be trying to send me back these magical images as well. "Look!" she says to me, "It's going to be okay! No matter what happens, you'll make it through! Just relax and enjoy it."

Christmas, 2006

Christmas has come and gone already and boy, this year went fast. It is technically the kid's third Christmas although it feels like the second since the first they were just a few days old and I was a barely walking zombie. It was fun and well paced and things went well. I'm really starting to get the hang of actually "putting on a holiday." When you are single and childless, you really just appendage yourself to someone else's holiday and go with the flow. And there were several holidays where I just sat at home alone and didn't do a damned thing. Which I don't mean to sound pathetic or anything...it really wasn't that big of deal to me. There was usually good skating on TV. But I do want the kids to have special days and traditions and memories and holidays that pace out the year for them. I'm starting to get what to do and when and how to make it more fun and less stressful. I'm figuring out what to continue and what to do differently. I've started from scratch.

Well, not totally. I've tried to remember some things we did when I was little and carry some of my mother into the holidays to make it intergenerational. One thing I wanted was some of my mother's Christmas ornaments, many of which were given to me by her as gifts. But there is something going on about it with my dad and sister so they are holding them hostage and are refusing to send them but won't tell me why. Its not like they put up a tree or anything there. So, that was kind of upsetting, but I do have the tree that my dad and I ran out and bought for her last Christmas that I put up. The angel I bought that year for it magically turned into a Santa Claus. I'm not sure what happened there, but no one is admitting that it used to be an angel and now it is no longer. I think I wasn't supposed to notice. Yeah. My family is weird. So I'm starting from scratch with the tree, which is why it only has seven ornaments. I decided to get two each year, for the kids. And just build it up over time. That will be our tradition. In 2004, they got two very pretty rocking horses from my MIL, ironically. Last year we didn't get any. But this year I got them two pewter angels that say ILY in sign language. So, I'm okay with the tree and the fact that I may never see the stuff my mother left for me. I have done everything else from scratch by myself, so I guess I will continue that tradition as well. Next year, I'll buy lights. (Or maybe candles? Who knew?)

The tree with the Santa Claus, the seven ornaments, and the snowman that Aaron ate the carrot from. (Snowman and Reindeer gifts from their healthy start teacher.)

The only other tradition that stood out for me from my childhood is that our "Santa" gifts were unwrapped and set up to play with. I specifically remember getting a toy "Holiday Inn" and there was a little toy person sitting in the toilet. I think that is when I really knew that Santa wasn't real because I knew my dad did that and that Santa wasn't going to bother to put a little square person in a little square toilet. So this year, with the little people house, I put the dad in the toilet of the house. So much fun to play with the toys after the kids go to bed. But I wrapped the house. I left out the infamous dolls and the dump truck for Santa presents. And I left them in my father's room. All this month, I have kept the presents in my father's room and have not let the kids go in there. Naim kept going up to the doorknob, which was locked, and wanting to go in there. I told them that there were secrets in there and he thought that was hilarious. So, Christmas morning, I asked him if he wanted to know what the secrets were and he rushed over to the door. I finally let him in, with Aaron right behind. As I predicted, Naim went for the dolls sitting in the doll stroller and Aaron beelined for the dump truck. (Although later, Naim pretended the doll stroller was a dump truck and proceeded to slowly tip it back while saying "beep beep beep" till the poor dolls fell out. But then he redeemed himself by picking them up and feeding them with a bottle. So cute.)

Naim and his babies/dump truck.

Aaron is being very territorial over this truck. I don't think Naim has gotten to play with it, yet. He has all the doll accessories in the back of it.

But, I'll back up a bit. Christmas Eve we went to church. The kids were pretty darned good. Naim had some really loud hiccups during the first 15 or so minutes that were making the people around us laugh. D was holding him. I was holding Aaron, the squirmball of all squirmballs. He was pretty good, but he was also entertaining the people around us. I don't sing at church. I pretend to sing, but I don't. I'm too self conscious about my hearing and not knowing how loud I am singing. Besides, I mostly don't know the words and can't see the hymnal. When I do know the words, I just lip sync. They sang all traditional Christmas songs that I should know the words to, but when it comes right down to it, I'm all "Joy to the world, the blah blah blah..." So, anyway, I was doing my semiquasi lip syncing thing, and Aaron thought that was really strange of me, so he kept taking his hands up to my lips and touching my mouth and laughing. He narc-ed me out! Then, he started kissing me repeatedly through a whole song, with really slobby on the mouth kisses, then he kept playing with my necklace (the one Shannon made for me) and saying, "Mama's Necklace!" Then, I gave him a stuffed snowman with a stuffed carrot for a nose to hold onto and he kept holding the carrot with his mouth and swinging his head around, then he kept watching the people behind me laugh at him and he laughed and pointed at them. So, he was quite entertaining for everyone, but for me, mostly exhausting. But neither of them did anything to disrupt the service, and they did enjoy the music and the candles and the people. It was quite fun.

We had planned to go out to dinner after, but that was really stupid of us. I think if we would have went out before the service, we could have done it, but afterwords every place seemed to have closed at six. We ended up eating Chinese, which reminded me of "A Christmas Story." It was good, though. The kids had fried rice and I gave Naim a too hot piece of chicken, but they did alright.

We came home and put the kids to bed and D and I stayed up for a while and drank Bailey's while I made some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. That's what D wanted. I know that as a mother I am now legally contracted and bound by the POTUS and maybe Jesus to make frosted sugar cookies in Christmas tree and snowman shapes, but I breached my contract, okay? Those are a pain...so I think I will wait until the kids can actually do all the hard work themselves take part.

On Christmas, D made it over by ten in the morning as I had requested. (You may recall that last year, he had us waiting till after three). I basically told him that if he wasn't here by 10:10, then I wasn't going to open up the garage door for him anyway.  This seemed to work--except that I actually did forget to open up the garage door when he did come. Oops!) So, then we spent the next, like three hours opening up gifts. Its not that there were that many, it was just that the kids played with whatever they just opened and then we had to coax them back and prod them to open another one so we could get through it all. That was fun and the presents went over well and the house turned into chaos pretty quickly. The kids got: the dolls, the dump truck, a bunch of play-doh, the little people house, two big look and find books, two little books, some flashcard type things, two puzzles, blocks, two little flashlights (Which we discovered they needed from the blackout days. I don't use them and thus don't have them, but the kids needed to walk around with them so I borrowed some big, clunky ones. But now they have their own little ones.), some candy and small stocking stuffer items. When I was a little kid, I remember reading the "Little House on the Prairie" books and being amazed that the kids were so happy to receive a cup, an orange, a penny, and a piece of candy for Christmas. That was their entire Christmas and they were so thrilled with it. So, I gave the kids a sippy cup, a chocolate coin, an orange, and a chocolate Santa in their stockings. They actually really liked those gifts. They ate the oranges right away. Someday I will explain to them the story.

The kids' haul. Damn. that's a lot of crap. They made out good.

Naim with his stocking and the new cups.

D's gifts to me did not come due to shipping delays and the weather. I know one is a cheap digital camera. I asked for this. The one of his is too fancy for me. I can't see the controls and I can't make decisions on how to focus it because it takes better vision than I have. I wanted just a cheap one where you just point and click. So I know that is coming. There is something else, but I don't know what. He gave me a box of candy to unwrap so I'd have something, but mostly I just helped the kids unwrap their gifts. I gave him two gifts. One was just a small alarm clock like deaf people use. It looks like a round hockey puck and you clip it in your pillow. It beeps and vibrates when it goes off. I got him this because he always is sleeping through his alarm. It is really hard to sleep through a vibrating pillow. I know, this is how I wake up everyday. The other gift I got him was a royal pain in the ass that I've been working on for weeks. He has been complaining that he never gets to see the pics we have taken of the kids because they are all over the place on different computers and CD-roms and websites and hard drives, etc. Because I have had repeated hard drive problems over the last few years, I have lost a lot of data and he was stressing that I lost all the pics of the kids and we need to get them organized and printed and saved or something. So I spent weeks collecting these pictures we have taken over the last two years. They were on hard drives and different CD roms and on Shutterfly and on this website and I even had to email different people to get some of them. I got them all and printed them off using Shutterfly--all 436 of them. And then I had to organize them by date and put them all in two albums. It took forever and it was not an easy task for me to do. But now it is done and may we never get that backed up with pictures again. D has a habit of taking 29,000 pictures of the kids in the exact same pose, so I did not print them all. There were thousands. Ugh. I don't know if I was able to get the best ones of each pose because I couldn't tell the difference half the time. So, I got one or two decent ones from each situation. I think D liked that gift. He looked through them and kept commenting that he had never seen this or that before. He never goes upstairs here, rarely goes to the backyard here, and was in the hospital so much that he really did miss a lot of the stuff the kids did. More than I realized till he looked through all the pictures. So I think it was a good gift and was worth all the work. Then I also gave him some stumptown coffee and green ginseng tea and a gift certificate to Starbucks.

He's getting his own gifts though. On the 22nd, he finally got the new wheelchair. The new mid-wheel drive, tilt-in-space, aspen cushion wheelchair that we hope will go far in preventing his pressure wounds. He is still getting used to the chair and is building up his time in it. It makes him sit up really straight, unlike his other chair which he slumped in a lot. So that is something he has to work up to. It holds his back in really tight, and he is used to being able to lean sideways and bend around and stuff, so he is having a bit of some functioning problems with it. He can't figure out how to shave in it because he usually leans sideways over the sink. (His accessibility in his apartment is for crap. A solution would be to have a roll under sink, but that would be a whole 'nother project to try to fund in and of itself.) Stuff like that. But I think when he figures stuff out, it will be really good for him. Then, tomorrow, he gets his new foot! He got fitted for a prosthetic foot a few weeks ago, and tomorrow he picks it up. It is not a fancy high tech one, because he won't be using it to walk with, but it is more than cosmetic. It will help support his leg and keep the pressure off that side of his body, and it will support him when he transfers. So, health-wise for him, things look to be coming together. I keep my fingers crossed.

We put the kids down for a bit in the afternoon and D and I ate dinner by ourselves, which was nice for a change, to eat and not have to monitor the slop-fest that is twins to our left and right. I got our food from the New Seasons deli, so I had almost no prep time. But the pork loin they gave us wasn't cooked like I thought it was supposed to be. It was all seasoned and tied together and ready to go, but it was raw. So that set us back a good hour, but then it was fine.

When the kids got up, we got a nice surprise. D's father, his brother Q, and Q's girlfriend and her daughter came over. Q was not going to come up (he lives about three hours away) but then he did at the last minute. This girlfriend is the longest lasting one he has ever had. She seems sweet and her daughter, who is around ten years old, was very nice and polite. I wish Q was around more often because the kids would really get a kick out of him. He's the fun uncle. He was playing around with Naim and making him laugh. (Aaron was too engrossed in his new toys to socialize.) It was cute. Grampa B got the kids some teddy bears and an outfit each. The outfits are cute but they are 3Ts. My kids are too small for 2Ts, but we'll save them for next year and they will be fine.

So, I think that about wraps it up. After they left, the kids went to bed and D and I finished the Baileys and ate cookies and went to bed. Today we both just decided to recover and so I haven't seen him. It was fun. Christmas with kids is fun. I was looking through the albums I made for D and it just hit me that my kids are lacking for absolutely nothing. All the pictures show them having every advantage a kid can have. All the clothes and food and toys and learning opportunities and love and socialization and everything. I bitch and stress about money and this and that, but I really am providing for them and doing exactly what I envisioned and what I knew I could do for them all those years I dreamed of having children. There is more I would like to provide, like a better safety net, an education fund, and some travel, etc. I hope I can get there in the coming years. But we are doing really well. All of us. We've worked really hard and we've also been so very lucky. Christmas is a really great time to just sit for a second and be grateful for that.

The kids with the doll house and me in the mess of a living room that would give my father a heart attack if he were here.

Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good Night!

Whew!

I think I did it! I am now at T-minus something and it just turned into Christmas Eve. Despite major sickness and blackouts and lack of a paycheck until YESTERDAY!!! I think I am sufficiently prepped for Christmas. Not only that, I think I am prepped enough to relax and enjoy it.

Not without a few sacrifices, though. No Christmas cards went out this year, and many people that should have gotten small, token gifts, like the daycare ladies and the healthy start teacher, didn't get squat. My father and sister didn't get squat either, but I don't expect anything from them so its fine. Some years it seems like we exchange gifts, some years we don't seem to. It doesn't seem like there is any expectation or anything so it's cool. I probably would have if the stupid state of Oregon wouldn't have completely screwed up my paycheck for November, causing me not to get paid till YESTERDAY! Have I mentioned that? Well, Since October I got zilch because D was hospitalized, lets just say that things were lean this month. December is not a good month for things to be lean. So if you expected a gift/card from me, you totally deserved it and there is absolutely nothing personal about the fact that you didn't get one. I may just send out "Happy January" cards or something.

Yet still, I think the kids made out on Christmas gifts. They each have four gifts under the tree, one gift from "Santa" that will not be wrapped, and a few small stocking stuffers. This was in large part due to some great last minute deals and some stuff I had already bought earlier that they hadn't seen yet that suddenly became Christmas gifts. They each got two kind of large gifts and three small ones. The large ones will be shared of course (well, at this age, it all is shared.) D has two gifts from me and a few stocking stuffers, and that's that. That's all I could pull off this year. I do think it is plenty, but I've seen pictures around the net of the haul some people have for their kids and I am absolutely shocked and amazed. It must just take the whole day to get through the gift unwrapping. One of D's gifts cost me more time and irritation than money. I felt like shooting myself in the head repeatedly during the process of getting it together and just finished it late last night. Ugh. Thank God it is done though. I had planned it out to do a bit over several days, but my schedule was ruined for about a week due to illness, so I really had to crunch the last couple of days.

I ordered New Seasons take out for Christmas Dinner. It actually cost less than if I were to get all the things I needed to cook it, and I didn't want to spend the afternoon cooking anyway. I ordered stuffed pork loins, garlic mashed potatoes and gravy, corn bread stuffing, and some kind of vegetable side dish or other. I did not order desert but I think we will make cookies from scratch tonight.

Tonight we are going to six o'clock Christmas eve church service, where the kids will be up in the sanctuary with us rather than in the nursery, so wish me good luck with that. There is a cry room but I hate sitting back there. I might as well stay home if I am going to sit in the cry room the whole time...so here is hoping they are good little angels. I think we are going to go out to eat afterwords and then come home and make cookies. Christmas will be just D and I and the kids with presents and dinner and possibly Grampa B. will come over as well.

The laundry is pretty much caught up and the house looks pretty decent and the presents are wrapped. The kids really need baths and I couldn't get to them tonight so that will be done in the am tomorrow, which will probably freak Naim the hell out since we never do baths in the morning. The tree is decorated with my 7, count them, 7 ornaments on it and no lights. (We had lights until the blackouts and then they didn't work anymore. I would have had to take the whole tree down to fix it, and it just wasn't in me.) But I told D that they didn't have lights on trees in "Little House on the Prairie" times so we don't need them. He proceeded to tell me that they put candles on them and I said that is total bullshit. I know that is what you see in romanticized versions of pre-Edison light bulb times, but really...did people who lived in un-flame retardant log houses with no fire department actually put candles on a live tree in the middle of winter? Methinks not. [ETA: Okay, okay! Apparently I was wrong!]

But, I'm relieved now that sans lights and Christmas cards, we are set with a warm and so far, electrically powered house, presents under the tree and food in the fridge and healthy people (one of which has a brand spankin' new and much needed WHEELCHAIR! Woo Hoo!) in the house for a nice Christmas. My wish for you is that you have the same. I want to wish all my readers a wonderful Holiday season. I appreciate your support and you all each have a virtual gift from me under my tree.

Back to the Present: Thanksgiving

Despite my many minor bodily injuries (sprained wrist--much improved. Broken pinky toe--hurts an annoying amount--don't ask) D and I and Naim and Aaron had a very nice and quiet Thanksgiving.

D got out of the hospital about two weeks ago. I remember saying to him in the summer when all this seemed never ending that by his birthday on November 10th, this could be over. He got out just a few days before his birthday. My dad was here and babysat while we went out to celebrate. I had some 8x10s of the kids framed and matted and hung them in his apartment and also returned the cats to him to greet him when he got home. He does not have a new wheelchair yet, but it is approved, ordered and on its way. It should be here sometime in early December. His body is intact. His skin integrity is intact. He has a skin graft wound from the surgery on his thigh that is still working on healing and he is still working his way up to more and more time out of bed, but things look good so far. I am guardedly optimistic. The only bad thing was that we lost Rachel, our attendant during the long hospitalization. She had many personal problems and money problems although she did a nice job for us. I tried to give her some work and money babysitting for me while he was hospitalized, but I did not have a lot of money to give her, either. She went completely MIA and disappeared. She said she wanted to come back and we've tried everything to find her, but have come to the conclusion that we need to give up and find someone new once again. Such is the nature of attendant work.

But we obviously had a lot to be thankful for. Our thanksgiving was low-key, but I did cook. D picked the menu. He wanted turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole and apple pie. I was fine with everything but the green bean casserole. I hate the things. Mostly I don't think anything resembling Funions should be next to real vegetables. So we compromised and I made a green bean casserole type thing with a cheese and bread crumb topping type deal. (Because apparently "it has to be crunchy..."). So that turned out pretty good. He also wanted me to make way too much food so that he could have lots of leftovers. That is a requirement for Thanksgiving in his world. Not too difficult when I am only feeding 2 adults and 2 toddlers. I could care less what we ate because my family rarely did the whole turkey thing. We'd go out or eat something like Lasagna, which was fine with me. So I complied and cooked for a whole afternoon while he watched the kids. I very rarely do this, but we finally had to put the kids in front of "Blue's Clues" so I could finish up. TV is like total crack for kids. It's scary. And very tempting to use it more than I should, but I think I've been very good about not plopping them in front of the TV gratuitously in lieu of a babysitter.

Aaron couching in front of the TV (while holding a bowl for some reason.) He learned this from my dad.

My house is still not very equipped for company. I have no serving dishes, I have four chairs. I have four plates. I have two wine glasses (well, one now since D broke one) and a complete miss match of crappy cups. My dining room table is screwed beyond belief in that all the finish has worn off and everything sticks to it. We have two highchairs and a stained rug underneath. When the kids get older, I might try to hit my dad up for a bit of a redecoration of this space. I know it bugs him too, especially since the actual room itself is quite pretty...or could be. But I am still self-conscious about inviting people over for dinner. But as we were eating, we thought that we really should have. We could have hosted one or two people at least. And we do have some "poor-er" friends as well who we know wouldn't get into the presentation of it so much. For years I have invited my old figure skating buddy, J, to things like Thanksgiving and Christmas because he has no local family in town. And also because he would be a good dinner guest--polite, doesn't drink too much, good conversationalist, etc. But every year he thinks about it and turns me down eventually. I don't see him often anymore. Every once in a while my Jaydar acts up and I feel the need to contact him, but this year I sort of ignored my Jaydar. For no other reason than that I've been distracted by other things. So I totally didn't think about inviting him this year. And D has a friend, Jason, and his wife who we could have invited. They have a couple of kids a bit older than ours so that would have been fun. But they might have had family obligations. Next year, I hope we get more organized a bit earlier. And like maybe no one will be in the hospital and stuff.

The spread. Ninety nine point nine percent organic. Herb stuffed turkey breast, garlic mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, stuffing, gravy, apple pie, fresh bakery rolls, and of course, green bean casserole.

On Friday, D told me that his mom and dad only had one son over and didn't cook much. Our SIL went to her family in Seattle and Q and his girlfriend had to work. Maybe they had a nice time anyway and I'm uneccessarily projecting here. But I felt bad because D's mom seemed to always like cooking so much and lately she has been too ill to cook. I don't know that she has anything specific or that she just is tired and has aches and pains. She always seemed to take a lot of pride in her cooking so it seems like she must really feel rotten not to cook. I think she is a good cook. I really like some of the things she makes like her apple pies and her apricot stars she makes at Christmas. Some of her other cooking isn't my style, although I'm sure it is good for what it is. I call it "F Street Diner" cooking. F Street Diner was a little shack in Lincoln, Nebraska that I would go eat at once every few months or so. I'd have some kind of big, greasy, gravy laden comfort food concoction there. But if I ate like that everyday I'm sure my heart would explode and I'd become diabetic in about six weeks time. Lots of animal fat and meat drippin's in those meals. I cook with much lighter sauces and very lean meats. She used to crack D and I up because at these family gatherings they had this idea that I totally couldn't cook (not like I ever acted like a big fan of cooking...but I can cook well enough). They'd always ask us to bring "the rolls" or "the wine" or "the salad." I wasn't tight enough in the woman's clique to bring anything like an actual side dish or anything that required any skill besides going to the grocery store. And then sometimes I would bring the rolls or the salad or the desert or whatever and she would already have made her own version of the exact same thing...like as backup or something. Used to crack me and D up. And then after awhile, I dutifully fell in line like all her other kids and fulfilled her prophecy of failure for me to accomplish anything right and did actually start forgetting to bring the rolls or the wine. Sometimes I wondered if it was worth trekking my ass to the store if she was already going to have it anyway. But that was my own deal.

Anyway, all this is to say that I felt like I should have invited her and D's father to my house. I was so focused on the fact that we I wasn't invited to their house that I completely spaced the option of inviting them here. I asked D if he thought they would have came and he said that he highly doubted it and that my invitation probably would have been turned into something bad. But I thought maybe I should have anyway, even if I knew they would say no. Because at least then they would have known that they are welcome in this house, and sometimes just knowing that is better than nothing. And it also seems like if I don't make an effort then I am complicit in this stupidity, even if I don't and have never really had a problem talking with/being in her presence. I don't think I can or should do Christmas because then it implies that they have to buy presents for us, and I don't want it to seem like that's all I want. So, maybe the kids' birthday or next year? We'll see. I'd probably just be wasting my breath. But I don't care really. I have plenty of breath to spare anyway.

I also was thinking about all this because I've been reading a bunch of blogs about Thanksgiving and reading about a lot of other people's really fucked up relationships with their in-laws. People who don't eat their relatives' food or set foot in their houses because they don't approve of silly little lifestyle choices. And I think, gee, I can't control her...but I'm not that bad. I don't think she and I will ever be close, but I don't have any problem eating her food or being in the same room with her. I can always at least be cordial.

But, as for us, we had a nice Thanksgiving ourselves. The turkey breast I made was a tad on the dry side but other than that it was all good. The kids ate like a green bean a piece and half a dinner roll. But that is pretty typical for them some nights when the food is even a little bit unfamiliar to them. I don't sweat their pickiness right now. I just let it go but try to get at least a few foods in there a day that I know are guaranteed winners. Naim is funny. He will stuff his mouth full and store it there for four hours and then when I've totally forgotten about it he takes my hand and spits the mushed up contents of whatever is left in his mouth in it. Lovely.

They have been seeing D almost daily this last week and are starting to ask for him and point to the garage door where he always comes in. I have finally been able to leave them with him for like an hour at a time while I go upstairs or something, which is nice. They've both started to count everything up to five. We counted all of our toes (Aaron's, Naim's and mine) and discovered that we all have five fingers and five toes. Then we had to count the two cat's fingers and toes. It was quite a revelation to find that the cats only have four toes on each foot. Then they went to count D's toes and I think for the first time they realized that D only has one foot. It kind of blew Naim's mind. "Where Toes Go?" he said. And looked all around D's wheelchair. They are getting to be really funny.

Naim counting toes.

Naim doing elbow and knee inventory.

Aaron with D and the top of Naim's head.

We need to take things slowly in getting back on our feet so we have no missteps that lead us down a long, exhausting path that we've been on the past year. But D is resting and taking care of his health and has started doing a bit of software sales again. I've started back to work and we need to start looking for a new attendant now. Hopefully one that will be willing to help D care for the kids on occasion so I can go and, say, get a hair cut or something someday. But, despite Twisty's very truthful and entertaining rant about Thanksgiving, our Thanksgiving was not about gender apartheid or over-consumption or Native American genocide or mythical puritan pilgrims. This Thanksgiving was just for us. For D and I and the kids. That we still manage to have enough food on the table for leftovers. Enough housing over our heads to complain about decor. Enough health to go back to work a bit. Enough relatives to complain about and feel compassion for. And enough rambunctious children running around to drive us nuts.

We tried to get a good picture of me and the kids together but Naim kept goofing off and putting one of D's hats on my head.

Naim continues to look cute and goof off while I look really fat and slouchy in the background. (All that food, you know?)

Hope you all had a Happy Thanksgiving!

The Butterfly Effect

You know when you watch "A Baby Story" and the mom pushed that baby out and then cries in happy euphoria at the joy of the miracle of her having a child? Well, that happened to me, too, but not so much at the birth. I think it has to do with being very extremely over-drugged at my Cesarean. I mean it was special and all that, and I'll never forget hearing Naim cry for the first time. (Oh. My. God. There actually really was a baby in there. And another one? There were really two? What in God's name am I going to do now?) But the first three or so months were really a blur of just getting from one second to the next. I was over-drugged with glaucoma medication and over-sleep deprived and over surgeried and over-blind and overstressed. I did literally struggle to get from moment to moment, hour to hour, feeding to feeding.

But slowly the fog lifted and I recovered from surgeries and got off the glaucoma meds and the kids got on a schedule of sleeping four hours at a shot through the night most nights. One night, when I was with them at a 2:00 am feeding and had just put them back down to sleep, it hit me. I did it! I made a dream come true. I actually had these wonderful children! I literally dropped to my knees and cried in joy and thanked God and my mom and D for encouraging me and Sergei's sperm for swimming in the right direction and my overies for actually deciding to ovulate for once and my kidneys for behaving and whatever else out there who might have made this happen for me in the cosmos that I had these kids. If I got nothing else in life, I got this one thing I wanted, to be a mom. And it was all worth it.

And the physical fog that had dragged me down for the last few months cleared and ever since then, not a day goes by when I don't marvel at how lucky I am. I don't know if every parent feels this way, but I know those of you who've dealt with infertility know what I mean. When you deal with infertility and you obsess over the exact string of random events that has to work out in order to concieve a child, you wonder how it ever happens to anyone ever. It seems easier to win the lottery. Even though I was relatively lucky at getting pregnant compared to some others, I dealt with health issues and PCOS and D's infertility issues for years. I remember a particular time when I came home from the gyn and had been told some bad news in a string of bad news about my inner workings and I just pressed my head against the cold glass on the train trying to be inconspicuous in my grief. I knew that adoption was going to be next to impossible for me, and now I had fertility problems to boot. It was the first time when I thought...this may never, ever happen. This could be it. My life. Just going along as a single person who works and comes home from work and deals with employment discrimination issues that force me to fight for every job I have tooth and nail Every. Goddamned. Fucking. Day.

The thing about parenting is that it is the first "job" I have been able to excel at with no one holding me back. No one says, No, you can't do that, it isn't safe so you can't even try. No one says, Oh, because you made one little mistake today, it must be disability related so we are going to take you off the whole job. No one says, It just wouldn't look right to have a vision/hearing impaired person in this position so we can't give you the job. Well, actually, many people probably say these things behind my back. But thanks to some pretty strong parenting laws that favor biological parents, it makes it considerably tougher for me to get fired from this job.

And may I just say that I am really good at this parenting thing. Jeez, I'm so grateful for the billions of years I spent in school learning child development and psychology and positive behavior supports and augmentative communication strategies... I use that stuff every single day. If I never work in the field again it will have been worth it. I have never been more confident and sure of what to do in any other job I've ever had. Not that I'm perfect by any means nor do I always know the answer, but I know how to get to the answer. Fatigue and stress are my worst enemy, but when they are under control, I am so on top of everything. I know how to look at my kid's individual needs and assess their changing needs day by day as I go along and make modifications. Every day I am doing a piece of what I always wanted to do for a career but was always held back from. And on top of that, I'm loving the kids to death while guiding them into their futures. I get to watch them from the beginning and continuously each day as they blossom into whoever they will become.

I got on this string of thought today when I took the kids to the park. It was a cool but sunny day and they are getting so independent at the park. They have learned their boundaries pretty well. They are pretty independent on the climbing and sliding equipment now. And they are confident enough with themselves to enjoy the freedom of the park. By understanding the boundaries finally, they finally are secure enough to enjoy the freedom to be able to run around and hide behind trees and play with rocks and fall in the grass and pick themselves back up and chase each other. They play with each other now and play with the park itself instead of having to have me at their sides encouraging them every step of the way.

So I was just wandering around following them at a small distance while they chased each other through the trees and giggled at their own made up games with their own made up rules. They reminded me of when I was pregnant, I always had that song, "Dog and Butterfly" in my head. I would feel them inside of me fluttering around, and I would call them Dog and Butterfly. Naim was the Dog, Aaron the Butterfly. I don't know why, but that's just how it made sense in my head. The air was crisp and the sky was clear and I watched them and it hit me again like it does every now and again. "I'm living a dream." I whispered to myself. This is the dream. My life is not everyone's dream, but I fulfilled mine.

Even though by U.S. standards I am an "at risk" statistic: near poverty level, single, underemployed, disabled, I know that is bullshit. Since I was a little kid, I always evaluated things by more of a world view rather than U.S. standards. By world standards I am in the upper probably 5% socioeconomic level. Most of the population of the world with my disability might either be dead, in an institution, or begging on the streets for scraps. Even without considering disability, most moms in the world live in by far worse and less stable conditions than I do. For the past 6 years I have had pen pals through Women for Women International. Women from war torn areas of the world are given skills training and cash assistance to get their lives on track. They furnish us with interpreter service for a year of penpal corrospondance. I had a few pen pals from the Balkans and now I have a woman from Rwanda. They tell me of their fears of war and violence as I look up at a clear blue sky with almost no worries that a bomb will fall on my head. They tell me of living in overcrowded refugee tents with several children and extended families while I have always had at least a small apartment to live in. They tell me how my $25 dollars a month will buy them food and possibly schooling for their children, while my children have a constant abundance of food waiting in the refrigerator and tons of books throughout the house. They make me little crafts they have learned as a trade. I have a collection of little lace doilies and knit mittens, whatever small thing they can fit in the mail to show me how they are trying to earn their living while I have computer skills, literacy, CNA training, teaching certifications and degrees up the ass that I had the luxury of earning in my sweet time. I don't mean to discount the poor in America, but even the poorest here are ahead of most of the world.

So, even though I don't have a 401K, and I am not a homeowner, and I struggle to pay my health insurance premiums each month, at least I can take my sick child to the emergency room and health care will be available. It is why I find the criticisms I have received for having children to be quite hilarious. It must be such a luxury, or perhaps such a sad statement on their own lives that people actually take the energy to put me and people like me down. Good women, good moms who give their children so much more than the newest Tickle Me Elmo doll has to offer. The women who write to me think I am a rich American, and marvel in disbelief when I explain to them that by American standards I am poor and that I do struggle from month to month to get by. I always think that for them, me talking about getting by must sound like how it sounds for me when someone complains that they maxed out their credit card on $600 shoes.

I grew up, like we all probably did, in a very consumerist, materialistic culture. I worry about my father and sister and their worship of money and material things over people and values and how that will affect the kids. I want them to work hard and contribute to society and find their best niche to do that. I hope that they are never in a situation like I have been where they have to depend on the social services system, because no one...NO ONE gets into the system and stays there because it is an easier life than making your own way. It is a hard way to live, a sticky trap in which to fall. I truly believe that the vast majority of people do not get trapped in the system out of laziness or lack of motivation. There is absolutely no incentive to be here. None. When people are in that gray area of disability and come to me and ask if I think they should apply for benefits, I say, try the hell as hard as you can not to. And if you have to visit disability social services, try to figure out your life and get out as quickly as possible. No one wants to live here.

But as usual, I've gone off on another rant more suitable for another day. I was just thinking today when I watched my kids run around in the park, that this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing. I worked on my career only semi-successfully for over 15 years. I remember telling a counselor once that I have done what was expected of me, followed all the rules, and I've gotten barely any return on my investment. I could have the credentials and experience of 78 professors in my field and have an impeccable record and people are still going to hold me back and waste my potential and not want to give the disabled person accommodations or a chance to prove herself. I remember she told me to throw out the rulebook and just go after whatever it is that I wanted using whatever rules worked for me. I wanted to have a stable place to live, have stable access to food and health care, and I wanted to be a mom. That's it. Those were my top three things I wanted. (I actually still do want the career, and I even have a dream career of combining social justice work with writing in some way to make a living, and I suspect I will get to that some day. There is a time for everything,but not everything at once. This is the time for me to be a parent.) As soon as I threw out society's rulebook that said I had to PASS as nondisabled and have a career and a 401K and a husband who can provide for me and a house in the suburbs before I could be a good parent, I got what I wanted. Without the husband, without the great career and expendable income. Without the house in the suburbs (although I'm "borrowing" one now). My kids have what they need and always will. They will know how to live on less and have perspective on how much they really have compared to most of the other children in the world and how lucky they are. They live in abundance and they will come to know that. They live in a family with members of an oppressed underclass, and although that sucks on the outset, I find it preferable than the alternative. Minority members can more easily move between the mainstream and other minority cultures, they understand and value diversity, they can recognize oppression and see right through it. They can more easily avoid the pitfalls of forced consumerism and materialism dressed as patriotism and success and instead understand what true success is. They can more easily understand and take on the social justice work that needs to be done to help change the world for the better.

Now, my dream would be that they would share a little of my revulsion of some of the classist material driven aspects of our society, but I fully expect that my guys will completely disregard anything I ever teach them about the failure of capitalism and consumerism and the need for social justice. There will be a time when they will tell me to fuck off and go off with my father and his iPOD and big screen TV and fancy SUV and look at the latest and greatest electronic gizmo constantly live from big purchase to big purchase trying to find happiness. But if I do my job right, hopefully they will take a little piece of what they learned from me and spread their wings just a bit and fly with it, if just for a moment. And if I can give them that, then maybe that is the way I'm supposed to spread my wings and leave something good for this world. I just can't even adequately put into words how grateful and lucky I am that I have that chance and the chance to love these small people.

And if lightning can possibly strike twice, maybe I will be able to parent again someday...I still feel, every day, like there is a child out there waiting for me. Possibly in foster care, possibly disabled, possibly an older child. She may choose us as much as we choose her. Baggage and Cluttergirl are my heroes here and I learn so much from them and all the other friends I have met who have taught me so much about adoption. I almost thing I was supposed to be denied before and wait till I had learned what I was supposed to from all of you. I know I can't live with my father if I do it, I could not subject a child out of foster care to my father's insensitivities. So, that is the biggie and the major catch-22 I'm in right now that I as yet don't know if I'll be able to get out of. But when I see my boys playing in the park, I almost see a shadow of her playing with them. It is like despite our happy family, there is still a piece that needs to belong here. But I figure if I just spread my wings and start trying to fly in that direction, that is better than turning my back on the shadow and listening to the critics who say it's not possible. That is pretty much how I was given these kids. I just started flying in that direction and hoped that somehow one day, I would find my way to them. And I did.

Edited to add: On this line of thought, I just got asked by a certain one-footed hospitalized geektactular dork what all this has to do with the Butterfly Effect. The Butterfly Effect is a mathmatical componant of Chaos Theory that states that microscopic variations can cause change on a massive scale. A butterfly flapping its wings in Argentina can cause or break up a tornado in Sweden, so the theory goes. Well, since I was not proving a mathmatical theorum but rather, ahem, using a literary METAPHOR!!! I just meant that I may not make a million dollars or earn a Nobel Prize in life, nor may my kids grow up to be president or whatever your definition of big success is, but if I can raise good kids into good adults, you never know if that will ripple out in indefinate ways and by raising children I could have a hand in world peace or some such positive outcome. Who knows? I'm just one wee person doing little wee things all day. But, I thought of this when my children were running and waving their arms through the park. Who knows where the soundwaves of their laughter and the winds of their energy will end up? The more good stuff we can create, the more chance of good things happening in the world.
Yes, I know that is not exactly how the mathmatical theory goes, D. I'm not trying to get into MIT here, okay? [nerd]