Good morning, sweet girl! How did you sleep?
"Good, Mommy."
Are you ready for the day?
"Yes, I guess."
What's wrong DQ?
"My best friend ("BF") plays with lot of other kids now and won't play with me or eat lunch with me any more."
I'm sorry to hear that. You know, friends come and go as you both change and grow and interests change. She is probably meeting other kids in her new classroom that she wants to know better, just like you are. It doesn't mean you have to lose the friendship you've had or let go of the warm memories. You can keep her in your heart even if she chooses to play with other kids at recess.
"But I miss her and I want to play with BF."
I know, honey, it's hard when friendships change, but it is part of life. Everybody goes through this from time to time. One of my favorite quotes is: ""It happens sometimes. Friends come in and out of our lives, like busboys in a restaurant."
Then I had to explain what a busboy is and the Dancing Queen asked: "But why do friends go?"
There are so many reasons, baby. Sometimes you start liking different things. Sometimes the friendship is a reminder of something one friend doesn't want to remember. Sometimes there's fights. Sometimes you just become separated by distance. There could any number of reasons or no real reason. It just happens. That is part of life.
"But Mommy, BF's dad told her she was no longer allowed to play with just one kid all of the time so she cannot have lunch with me or play with me any more."
Oh.
"Why would he say BF can't play with me any more?"
I had to do some very fast thinking and try to hide the anger and frustration I felt at this man I have never met.
Dancing Queen, I don't know why specifically he wants BF to not play with just one kid, but lots, but I can imagine he feels this way for the same reason we send you to the school you attend.
"Why is that, mommy?"
Well, did you know your school is one of the most diverse schools in the state? There are all types of kids with all types of backgrounds at your school. With so many kids with parents from around the globe, you get to learn different things and the more cultures and backgrounds you are exposed to, the better person you will be because you can understand more. I would guess that BF's dad wants her to learn about other people so that she can have a broader knowledge of people and understand more about life.
"I don't understand, Mommy."
Do you remember the many conversations we've had about people doing bad things to others simply because those people looked different or believed differently?
"Yes. They shot Martin Luther King and killed people in Paris because they were different."
Yes. One way to help stop that sort of hate is to get to know other people, different from yourself, with different backgrounds, different cultures, different religions. Because as you get to know people who are different than you, you realize that . . .
"We may be different on the outside, but we're all the same on the inside."
Exactly. Think about your class. Does everybody look the same? Do they all have the same skin color? Wear the same clothes?
"No, but Mommy, if they looked inside me, they'd see I'm different."
When we say we are all the same on the inside, we're not talking heart and lungs. We're talking feelings. Each of us feels sad sometimes; each of us feels happy, angry, lonely, scared sometimes. We are all the same on the inside because we all feel--just like the movie "Inside Out". That is how we connect with other people--through feelings, through talking and learning that we all feel.We can all hurt and be hurt. We can all laugh and smile. We all love. Everyone has that in common.
"But Mommy, why would BF's dad not want her to play with me?"
My guess is that BF's dad wants her to talk to lots of people, to learn about them, to connect to them, so that she can understand more people and learn different ways of life. And by telling her to play with other kids, he's not saying she can't be your friend any more, just that she needs to meet more people and get to know them. Just like you became friends with V for the first time this year. She is from a very different culture than us, right?
"Yeah! The Indian dance she does is so fun and different."
But you two are similar on the inside, right?
"Yeah. We both laugh at the same things."
BF's dad probably wants that for her too.
"I guess."
It's okay if it hurts. You are allowed to hurt when you can't play with your best friend much any more. But remember, this is your opportunity to get to know somebody else as well. No matter what happens with BF, you can still keep her in your heart.
After hugging my sweet seven-year-old for a very long time, she slowly walked away to brush her teeth.
Hours later, I still can't shake the feeling that washed over me as DQ told me all of this. I was sad, angry, frustrated, hurt, all of the above and so much more.
I've been dealing with DQ and friends (or lack of friends) for years. She's never quite fit with her agemates, but BF was different. BF loved her even through their differences. The girls lit up when together. BF would push DQ in her wheelchair so DQ could come along. BF is one of those girls all of the others want to be like, but she would choose DQ to talk with and laugh.
Earlier this schoolyear, DQ was not invited to BF's birthday party. I knew about this through Facebook and it hurt, but DQ did not know (at least she did not tell me). I figured the girls were drifting apart, but after that, whenever they were together, the girls were the same as always. There'd be a ton of other kids around and BF would seek DQ ought to have fun together.
Then, this morning, learning that BF's dad doesn't want BF to be best friends with DQ any longer, it all came together.
BUT WHY??????
If DQ has been mean to BF, shouldn't I have been told?
DQ would have told me if they had had a fight. She always tells on herself.
If DQ and BF were transitioning apart, why would BF be forbidden to play with DQ? Let the friendship take its natural course.
The only reason for forced segregation of the girls, at least in my head, is because DQ is dying. Logically, I can see a dad rationalizing that ending the friendship before DQ dies would make the death hurt BF less.
But . . . REALLY?
Teaching your child to abandon (and ostracize) their terminally ill friend because being close to them is too hard seems like a totally fucked up lesson.
Maybe that's why so many people do cruel things in this world: rather than facing the hard lessons, people choose the easy way out and go around the mess. Personally, I feel like we need to admit that life is messy and part of growing up is learn to deal with the mess, even though it is unpleasant and hard.
Maybe I'm all wrong. But if DQ has done something wrong (other than dying), I
wish they would talk to us so that she can know how her behavior affects
others.
No matter what the reason behind BF's dad's decision, it sucks and it hurts that two kids who were the best of friends have to be torn apart rather than life taking it's natural path.
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Thursday, October 16, 2014
"Inclusion"
Since the Dancing Queen was very little, she hasn't quite belonged. I wrote here years ago how she was treated like a doll by the bigger preschoolers (many younger than her, but bigger). The practice has continued through the years, but the divide by DQ and her agemates continues to grow. She has friends in her class, but there are definitely areas where she lags behind and it makes her seem so much younger.
DQ reads and writes way better than TRex did at the end of first grade, let alone the beginning where she is now. She is doing remarkably well with academics. It is socially where she falls terribly behind.
We've put her in dance class and girl scouts to help her interact socially with other first graders. Unfortunately, she has to be in a special needs dance class because the "regular" class for 6 year olds will not accommodate her need to rest or slow down. So, she is with a bunch of older kids, teens, and a smattering of little girls who are all cognitively below her and, socially, just as far behind, if not further. This does not help, but DQ gets to dance.
Girl scouts is a bunch of girls her own age and in her class. Unfortunately, instead of helping her belong, much of the time, DQ is simply made to feel out of place. Girl scouts simply provides her with lots of opportunities to watch the other kids do things that she cannot do or must do in an altered fashion. DQ has trouble with fine motor coordination as a result of her 22q deletion syndrome, so when the girls complete projects like rubberband bracelets, DQ cannot do so on her own. When the girls simply run around and be little girls, DQ cannot join but for a minute because of her heart failure, so she is left to watch as they have fun with out her. For trips, DQ needs her wheelchair. Any activity involving food (which activities don't involve food?) and there is not even an attempt to include DQ because it is too difficult to do gluten free. (Don't even get me started on this--I can't send tree nuts for TRex to eat on his own, but when the class parties come and there are communal treats, they don't have to accommodate DQ because it's too hard! How much bullshit is that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
So during girl scout meetings and events, DQ must watch a room full of girls just who are supposed to be doing things with her, exclude her. DQ is left frustrated and angry. She lashes out. Who can blame her?!? But that segregates her all the more.
I use these times to help her understand that not everyone is the same. These are learning moments for her to accept her differences; to understand that she may not be able to do everything the same way, but she can still participate. These are the same lessons DQ learns in school and everywhere else she goes. There is not a day that goes by that we don't have to teach DQ that sometimes she will be left out.
But today, as the girl scouts chose to attend a play together at the time they are serving a lunch that DQ cannot eat (rather than a different showing that would not cause DQ to be singled out AGAIN), I wondered: When is it the time to teach the other kids to think of DQ's feelings? When is it the time to say: this might require a little more thought, but we'll bring gluten free snacks so that everyone can belong? Why should my daughter be the only one who has to change or has to learn? Isn't one of the main purposes of inclusion to teach the rest of the world that disabled persons are people too and that they matter? DQ works harder than the rest of kids to simply breathe! Why can't they eat freaking popcorn for snack ONCE! When the kids are running around for ten minutes like chickens with their heads cut off (and I'm not supposed to be in the room), can't the leaders suggest they play a game that everyone can do? And if I'm not allowed to assist, are you going to make sure that the activities are able to be performed by all of the girls or should the girl scouts change their requirements to specifically exclude children with fine motor delays?!?!?
I guess I should be grateful that the girl scouts allow DQ to tag along and pretend like she belongs since the dance studio won't even do that. But I'm not grateful. I'm angry and I'm sad. I would pull her out if she didn't ask to stay. Unfortunately, she doesn't know any better. Nobody outside of our family has treated her like a regular kid. She doesn't know what it's like to have the girls actually play with her instead of at her or using her as the toy. This is the only way she has ever belonged and it feels normal to her. But, for me, I feel like they are trying to force her out. They don't want to change, so they will make it so uncomfortable for her that eventually, she'll give up and they won't have to think about the disabled child. And frankly, I'm so exhausted that I can't fight this fight. They don't want to accommodate, so I'll keep teaching DQ. She will be a good person. As for all of those girls whose moms think they are so great because they treat DQ like a doll, those girls are losing the opportunity for real growth. It is a shame because if they were just guided, they'd do it easily. But their parents are too blind to guide and I have too many battles on too many fronts to deal with this one.
DQ reads and writes way better than TRex did at the end of first grade, let alone the beginning where she is now. She is doing remarkably well with academics. It is socially where she falls terribly behind.
We've put her in dance class and girl scouts to help her interact socially with other first graders. Unfortunately, she has to be in a special needs dance class because the "regular" class for 6 year olds will not accommodate her need to rest or slow down. So, she is with a bunch of older kids, teens, and a smattering of little girls who are all cognitively below her and, socially, just as far behind, if not further. This does not help, but DQ gets to dance.
Girl scouts is a bunch of girls her own age and in her class. Unfortunately, instead of helping her belong, much of the time, DQ is simply made to feel out of place. Girl scouts simply provides her with lots of opportunities to watch the other kids do things that she cannot do or must do in an altered fashion. DQ has trouble with fine motor coordination as a result of her 22q deletion syndrome, so when the girls complete projects like rubberband bracelets, DQ cannot do so on her own. When the girls simply run around and be little girls, DQ cannot join but for a minute because of her heart failure, so she is left to watch as they have fun with out her. For trips, DQ needs her wheelchair. Any activity involving food (which activities don't involve food?) and there is not even an attempt to include DQ because it is too difficult to do gluten free. (Don't even get me started on this--I can't send tree nuts for TRex to eat on his own, but when the class parties come and there are communal treats, they don't have to accommodate DQ because it's too hard! How much bullshit is that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
So during girl scout meetings and events, DQ must watch a room full of girls just who are supposed to be doing things with her, exclude her. DQ is left frustrated and angry. She lashes out. Who can blame her?!? But that segregates her all the more.
I use these times to help her understand that not everyone is the same. These are learning moments for her to accept her differences; to understand that she may not be able to do everything the same way, but she can still participate. These are the same lessons DQ learns in school and everywhere else she goes. There is not a day that goes by that we don't have to teach DQ that sometimes she will be left out.
But today, as the girl scouts chose to attend a play together at the time they are serving a lunch that DQ cannot eat (rather than a different showing that would not cause DQ to be singled out AGAIN), I wondered: When is it the time to teach the other kids to think of DQ's feelings? When is it the time to say: this might require a little more thought, but we'll bring gluten free snacks so that everyone can belong? Why should my daughter be the only one who has to change or has to learn? Isn't one of the main purposes of inclusion to teach the rest of the world that disabled persons are people too and that they matter? DQ works harder than the rest of kids to simply breathe! Why can't they eat freaking popcorn for snack ONCE! When the kids are running around for ten minutes like chickens with their heads cut off (and I'm not supposed to be in the room), can't the leaders suggest they play a game that everyone can do? And if I'm not allowed to assist, are you going to make sure that the activities are able to be performed by all of the girls or should the girl scouts change their requirements to specifically exclude children with fine motor delays?!?!?
I guess I should be grateful that the girl scouts allow DQ to tag along and pretend like she belongs since the dance studio won't even do that. But I'm not grateful. I'm angry and I'm sad. I would pull her out if she didn't ask to stay. Unfortunately, she doesn't know any better. Nobody outside of our family has treated her like a regular kid. She doesn't know what it's like to have the girls actually play with her instead of at her or using her as the toy. This is the only way she has ever belonged and it feels normal to her. But, for me, I feel like they are trying to force her out. They don't want to change, so they will make it so uncomfortable for her that eventually, she'll give up and they won't have to think about the disabled child. And frankly, I'm so exhausted that I can't fight this fight. They don't want to accommodate, so I'll keep teaching DQ. She will be a good person. As for all of those girls whose moms think they are so great because they treat DQ like a doll, those girls are losing the opportunity for real growth. It is a shame because if they were just guided, they'd do it easily. But their parents are too blind to guide and I have too many battles on too many fronts to deal with this one.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Take Me Back Tuesdays: Summer
When I was a kid, I remember eating a lot of peaches during the summer. My grandmother would cut the peach in half and twist the fruit off the pit, then hand the pieces to me. I would beg her to let me grow a peach tree. And every summer, she always let me dry out at least one pit so that we could get inside and find that precious seed. I don't remember ever planting the seed, but there was always a peach pit drying on grandma's counter, right next to the tomatoes that fell off the vine too soon and needed to ripen a little more.
That was summer.
As I ate a peach on this sweltering summer day, I couldn't help but think about grandma and the peaches. I had to have been young when all of that happened. Grandma and grandpa moved to Virginia before I was in third grade. And the kitchen I remember was here in Michigan. I was the same age as my kids are today.
But what type of memories am I leaving for them? There are no peach pits drying (they won't eat peaches, preferring summer's abundance of raspberries, blue berries, strawberries, and grapes).
I clearly remember the summer afternoon that my grandma taught me to ride a two-wheeled bike. Neither of my kids can do that yet and TRex is almost 7! How much of that failure is a result of the kids never being home? If they weren't in summer camp all day, I'm sure they'd know how to ride a bike. If only I didn't have to work full-time, my kids would have the basic skills needed to live a good life.
I remember mornings with grandma pressing ice cream between two fresh waffles. Then licking the dripping sweetness off my hand. There was no rush, no hurry. My kids' summer morning consist of Eggos (TRex) and bologna dipped in barbeque (DQ). Yes, DQ tends to lick her hands, but only because she dips them in barbeque sauce. And we do not sit and enjoy, but finish with a mad dash to gulp down meds and slather sunscreen from head to toe before heading out the door.
None of it is the same. And that makes me sad.
I know the kids know no different and they are loving their summer. Each day is a new adventure and they have so much fun. We don't have any other choice really. But it makes me sad nonetheless.
That was summer.
As I ate a peach on this sweltering summer day, I couldn't help but think about grandma and the peaches. I had to have been young when all of that happened. Grandma and grandpa moved to Virginia before I was in third grade. And the kitchen I remember was here in Michigan. I was the same age as my kids are today.
But what type of memories am I leaving for them? There are no peach pits drying (they won't eat peaches, preferring summer's abundance of raspberries, blue berries, strawberries, and grapes).
I clearly remember the summer afternoon that my grandma taught me to ride a two-wheeled bike. Neither of my kids can do that yet and TRex is almost 7! How much of that failure is a result of the kids never being home? If they weren't in summer camp all day, I'm sure they'd know how to ride a bike. If only I didn't have to work full-time, my kids would have the basic skills needed to live a good life.
I remember mornings with grandma pressing ice cream between two fresh waffles. Then licking the dripping sweetness off my hand. There was no rush, no hurry. My kids' summer morning consist of Eggos (TRex) and bologna dipped in barbeque (DQ). Yes, DQ tends to lick her hands, but only because she dips them in barbeque sauce. And we do not sit and enjoy, but finish with a mad dash to gulp down meds and slather sunscreen from head to toe before heading out the door.
None of it is the same. And that makes me sad.
I know the kids know no different and they are loving their summer. Each day is a new adventure and they have so much fun. We don't have any other choice really. But it makes me sad nonetheless.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Playing Games in a Tent
Mommy, I want to dream about playing games in a tent with you aaaand . . . eating Azteca.
aaaand . . . eating healthy foods at home.
aaaand. . . eating strawberry shortcake.
aaaand. . . going to a chocolate factory.
Such is the nightly routine of my sweet girl. She is always going to dream of playing games in a tent with us and eating whatever suits her fancy that day (unless we read or watched Willy Wonka).
But how often have we played games in a tent?
Recently, not much.
It is 8:30 at night, when I'm sitting at the lonely computer, that all I want to do is play games in a tent. But, I can't. My babies are sleeping (or at least they better be!)
We bought this new house, complete with an office for me to work in. I've taken advantage of it. I've been home at bedtime so much more over the last several months than I had in a very long time. But now I want more.
I want to be able to play games with the kids, not just tuck them in. I want to be in their classrooms, not just hear about their days. I totally understand why being a stay at home mom would rock.
Don't get me wrong. I still love my work. I'm enjoying my new practice area. And we can't afford for me not to work (especially with the new house and an old house that is still in need of a renter--YIKES!)
But, sometimes, I want to play games in a tent with my babies and eat yummy foods, not just dream about it.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Slumber Parties & Parks
Last night, the Mad Scientist and Papa drove to New York to help the Editor and Car Guy pack up their house for good and move to Michigan. That left Ma and I with all four kids. So, we had an experiment. The first of what we hope will be many, many slumber parties with all four kids. The night was filled with pizza, popcorn, movies, and lots of fun. The kids did really well. When the last movie ended and lights were out, they all fell asleep without trouble.
This morning, they played together, ate well, and just had fun. It was so wonderful to watch. My heart swelled with love for all of them and how good they are with each other (even if there was some bickering). Little Car Guy, who should really be called the Screen Bandit, was very good about helping the younger kids. And the younger kids look up to him with so much awe and love. My heart was melting, watching it all.
Before it got oppressive outside, we headed to the park. After half an hour/forty-five minutes, Ma was pushing DQ in the swing and the boys were climbing climby things, so I had a couple of minutes to sit and watch some more. I was in my glory and decided to check my email. The one I was waiting for was there: "Yay! They will vacate on July 29." Our realtor was letting me know that our new house will be completely ours on July 29th! I was ecstatic. My world was complete--my sister and her family are moving close to us so our kids can become best friends, the kids were getting along, and our new house was becoming real! I, of course, called the Mad Scientist to share.
As I talked with him, reveling in the news that we will be moving the first weekend of August, I looked at Ma & DQ. They had stopped swinging and were heading to the shade. I hung up with MS and asked what was going on. Ma brought DQ to me. She had a nose bleed, was complaining of stomach pain, and was obviously in distress. She just wanted me to hold her and I did. Her heart was beating so hard. I tried to round up the boys, but they didn't want to leave. I was hanging on by a thread. DQ had only been swinging. She wasn't running! She had been regularly drinking! SHE WAS JUST SWINGING! My emotions were a roller coaster as my baby was turning limp in my arms.
Ma rounded the boys up and explained why we had to leave. The boys started joking that DQ was dieing. And I broke. I knew she wasn't dieing, but hearing out loud the fear that is always lurking in the far reaches of my mind took me over the edge. I sobbed. I tried not to let the boys see me and DQ was so out of it she didn't really know I was doing anything, but I couldn't hold back the tears. I took DQ in my arms, racing toward the car as Ma continued to talk with the boys, tears streaming down my face.
We got to a picnic table next to the car and sat. DQ with her head on my shoulder and tears flowing like a faucet by then. Luckily, by the time the boys got to us, I had calmed down. I got DQ in the car and we decided to go to one of DQ's favorites--Olive Garden--the one restaurant with gluten free food (for me), vegatarian fair (for Screen Bandit and Chef), and stuff everybody likes. Except DQ didn't want to go. She wanted to go home. My baby was passing up basgetti!
Ma took the boys out to eat and I brought DQ in. She just wanted to sleep, but only after trying to vomit. She is now napping, but not well. She cries out in pain every couple of minutes. I'm sure it was the heat, but it was only about 80. And she was just swinging.
Swinging.
I can't stop thinking that she was just swinging.
I hate this. I hate that my daughter can be so happy, doing the thing she loves most in the world one second, and a puddle in my arms the next. I hate that she continues to have nosebleeds for no apparent reason. I hate that she has so little reserves. I hate that life is so unfair to her. I hate that everyone's day gets turned upside down because DQ's body can't handle life. I hate that I can be riding a huge high and that I let DQ's normal life take me down so low. I want to be able to rejoice in the happy that we have and not let the sad parts get me down, but I don't know how. I want my baby to have one day where she can play with the kids and not worry that she could die if we let her play with the kids.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Fun Fair
Please forgive me if you follow me on instagram or are friends with me on Facebook and you've seen these already, but I got great photos if the kids at TRex's Family Fun Fair at school. The kids had a blast.
I can't believe school will be over this Friday. So much has happened over the last couple of weeks. I need to get it out, but there is no time. So, I hope you enjoyed the pics!
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Friday, February 3, 2012
Heart Month
February is Heart Month. We try to raise awareness of Congenital Heart Defects (CHDs) this month. Since today is "National Wear Red for Heart Disease Day", our family is doing our part. Both kids plan to tell people they are wearing red for heart disease and our favorite heart warrior, the Dancing Queen.
Today, I'm also featured in Heart Mom interviews for CHD Awareness Month on When Life Hands You a Broken Heart. Please follow me there.
Today, I'm also featured in Heart Mom interviews for CHD Awareness Month on When Life Hands You a Broken Heart. Please follow me there.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Not a Tiger Mom
I am not a tiger mom. In fact, I sometimes think I an the opposite of a tiger mom.
Don't get me wrong. I want my children to succeed. I want them exposed to important learning experiences.
But, I don't force them to take lessons (except for TRex's swimming class, but that is to help him learn to swim cause he loves water and I don't want him to drown and we are hoping it will help him get over some of his fears).
I don't sit in front of my kids with flashcards and I didn't make them learn to read as babies.
Frankly, I get annoyed that after seven hours in school each day my 5 year old has half hour of homework every night. He's in kindergarten!
I think kids should be allowed to be kids. And I think school is important. I think homework is important. I think fostering the attitude that schoolwork is important is important (this is why I do not let TRex know I'm annoyed by his homework!)
I know there are other kids out there who are being groomed to excel in every way possible to be the uber kid so that by the time my kids are in junior high, the uber kids will make the team and beat my kids at everything. I know these uber kids will have better chances at ivy league schools and a more stable future. I saw their parents at an open house when kindergarten began. The desperation in their faces was palpable as they asked about starting a Mandarin club so the kids could learn more than Spanish. I know my kids will have tough competition.
Yet, I can't be a tiger mom.
I want childhood be to full of wonder and adventure. I want my kids' imaginations to bloom and grow. I want them to know the joy of a lazy day. Inspiration is born of a mind left to wander and experience. I don't see how regiment and 100% discipline allows the spirit to grow.
So, yes, I'm not a tiger mom.
Don't get me wrong. I want my children to succeed. I want them exposed to important learning experiences.
But, I don't force them to take lessons (except for TRex's swimming class, but that is to help him learn to swim cause he loves water and I don't want him to drown and we are hoping it will help him get over some of his fears).
I don't sit in front of my kids with flashcards and I didn't make them learn to read as babies.
Frankly, I get annoyed that after seven hours in school each day my 5 year old has half hour of homework every night. He's in kindergarten!
I think kids should be allowed to be kids. And I think school is important. I think homework is important. I think fostering the attitude that schoolwork is important is important (this is why I do not let TRex know I'm annoyed by his homework!)
I know there are other kids out there who are being groomed to excel in every way possible to be the uber kid so that by the time my kids are in junior high, the uber kids will make the team and beat my kids at everything. I know these uber kids will have better chances at ivy league schools and a more stable future. I saw their parents at an open house when kindergarten began. The desperation in their faces was palpable as they asked about starting a Mandarin club so the kids could learn more than Spanish. I know my kids will have tough competition.
Yet, I can't be a tiger mom.
I want childhood be to full of wonder and adventure. I want my kids' imaginations to bloom and grow. I want them to know the joy of a lazy day. Inspiration is born of a mind left to wander and experience. I don't see how regiment and 100% discipline allows the spirit to grow.
So, yes, I'm not a tiger mom.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
I Need You to Protect MY Babies
One of the things I fear most as the mom of child with DiGeorge's Syndrome is the unimmunized healthy child. The child whose parents believed a playboy bunny rather than medical science. Or the parents who think it is fine for their child to get major illnesses, not taking into consideration that their child's illness is another child's death.
I don't understand it. Diseases like measles and chicken pox have killed untold numbers of people through the ages. And here we are today, with the means to eradicate these diseases, saving countless lives, and people choose to keep the diseases around! Why?!? Because they had chicken pox as a kid and were fine. That is BS. Pure and simple, self-centered BS! Because some "scientist" published a paper that said vaccines cause autism; a paper that has been criticized, debunked, retracted, and proven to be falsified. Really? What part of fraudulent and debunked do they not understand? What part of the dude has lost his right to practice medicine do these people NOT understand?
Yes, I am angry. Very, very angry. My daughter has been hospitalized numerous times for things you and I would call a bad cold. I would do anything for the MMR or chicken pox vaccine to protect her. But her immunologist has declared it too dangerous because those vaccines are made with live virus. If my baby with her weak immune system had either vaccine, she could easily contract the diseases. And for someone like her, with such a fragile medical condition, those diseases could be deadly. So, no she is not allowed to be vaccinated. Neither is my son because the small amount of virus in his vaccine could infect the Dancing Queen.
I was told not to worry about my kids not being vaccinated because everyone else is vaccinated. But that is a pipe dream based upon sound science and not upon tabloid rumors which, surprisingly, control many parenting decisions. While my daughter's immunologist is sure my kids wouldn't be exposed to chicken pox, measels, mumps, or rubella, he is wrong. Last spring, a child who rode the bus with the Dancing Queen came down with chicken pox. And this week, a child in TRex's school also came down with chicken pox. These children were probably contagious without showing any symptoms for 3 days prior to coming down with the pox. We lucked out last spring because DQ was in the hospital when the child got sick. I guess we'll see next week if TRex was lucky enough to escape the illness. Unfortunately, we will not know if he was lucky until it is too late.
The Dancing Queen is not the only child with immune issues. There are many children with the 22q11 deletion or other congenital abnormalities that cause immune system deficiencies. There are more children who have had cancer and their treatments render them vulnerable. And every child who has had an organ transplant is on anti-rejection meds that weaken their immune system.
Please, have your children vaccinated. Help save lives!
How would you feel if your decision not to vaccinate lead to the unthinkable?
I don't understand it. Diseases like measles and chicken pox have killed untold numbers of people through the ages. And here we are today, with the means to eradicate these diseases, saving countless lives, and people choose to keep the diseases around! Why?!? Because they had chicken pox as a kid and were fine. That is BS. Pure and simple, self-centered BS! Because some "scientist" published a paper that said vaccines cause autism; a paper that has been criticized, debunked, retracted, and proven to be falsified. Really? What part of fraudulent and debunked do they not understand? What part of the dude has lost his right to practice medicine do these people NOT understand?
Yes, I am angry. Very, very angry. My daughter has been hospitalized numerous times for things you and I would call a bad cold. I would do anything for the MMR or chicken pox vaccine to protect her. But her immunologist has declared it too dangerous because those vaccines are made with live virus. If my baby with her weak immune system had either vaccine, she could easily contract the diseases. And for someone like her, with such a fragile medical condition, those diseases could be deadly. So, no she is not allowed to be vaccinated. Neither is my son because the small amount of virus in his vaccine could infect the Dancing Queen.
I was told not to worry about my kids not being vaccinated because everyone else is vaccinated. But that is a pipe dream based upon sound science and not upon tabloid rumors which, surprisingly, control many parenting decisions. While my daughter's immunologist is sure my kids wouldn't be exposed to chicken pox, measels, mumps, or rubella, he is wrong. Last spring, a child who rode the bus with the Dancing Queen came down with chicken pox. And this week, a child in TRex's school also came down with chicken pox. These children were probably contagious without showing any symptoms for 3 days prior to coming down with the pox. We lucked out last spring because DQ was in the hospital when the child got sick. I guess we'll see next week if TRex was lucky enough to escape the illness. Unfortunately, we will not know if he was lucky until it is too late.
The Dancing Queen is not the only child with immune issues. There are many children with the 22q11 deletion or other congenital abnormalities that cause immune system deficiencies. There are more children who have had cancer and their treatments render them vulnerable. And every child who has had an organ transplant is on anti-rejection meds that weaken their immune system.
Please, have your children vaccinated. Help save lives!
How would you feel if your decision not to vaccinate lead to the unthinkable?
Friday, September 23, 2011
Feeling Blessed
I should really be showering and packing since I planned on leaving my house over an hour ago for a fabulous 4 day weekend away with my girlfriends. Instead, I've been reveling in a morning to myself. I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, good coffee, and playing with pictures of my beautiful children. I figure my friends would understand. I have an entire weekend with them and never get time alone, so I'm taking this morning.
This time alone and my ultimate decision to take the weekend away, has led me to one conclusion: my life is wonderful. I am lucky beyond lucky. I have an amazing husband, fabulous kids, a great family, wonderful friends, a great job, and so much more.
Today, I'm grateful that I can take a weekend away with friends for the first time in 7 years (I think). I'm grateful that my children are alive and able to hug me and goof around. I'm mean look at those faces.
I'm grateful for a husband who is my best friend and my life. I'm grateful for my mom who watched the Dancing Queen all week because she was sick and unable to go to school. I'm grateful that I have a job where I can go away for a couple of days and people can appreciate how much I need it.
I'm grateful for so many more things and this morning, I can see it all. But mostly, at this moment, I'm grateful for these smiles.
What are you grateful for today?
This time alone and my ultimate decision to take the weekend away, has led me to one conclusion: my life is wonderful. I am lucky beyond lucky. I have an amazing husband, fabulous kids, a great family, wonderful friends, a great job, and so much more.
Today, I'm grateful that I can take a weekend away with friends for the first time in 7 years (I think). I'm grateful that my children are alive and able to hug me and goof around. I'm mean look at those faces.
I'm so lucky to have these precious children call me mommy.
I'm grateful for so many more things and this morning, I can see it all. But mostly, at this moment, I'm grateful for these smiles.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Me Time
We got a surprise this week. My mom came to watch the kids on Tuesday when the Dancing Queen couldn't go to school because of her fever the night before and at the end of the night, she took the kids home for the week. (Their cousins are in town from out of state and she wanted them all to spend time together. And she always dreamed of being a full time baby sitter for her grandkids, just as my paternal grandma did for us.)
Anyway, I found myself sans kids for several days. The Mad Scientist and I think it is probably the longest we have ever been away from the Dancing Queen. (She has been knocked unconscious for much longer periods of time, but we were still by her side.)
It was nice. I was able to sleep in later in the morning and get to work earlier. And the only thing keeping me awake at night was myself. There was no crying, no nightmares, no worrying that the kids are too cold and wondering if I should check on them. It was very freeing.
The best part of it all was getting up in the morning and having the house all to myself. I made coffee and sat at my computer, reading what I wanted without interruption. It was so very wonderful.
Of course, I have been going through kid withdrawl and I am beyond excited that my kids will be home tomorrow evening. I miss them so much, especially when so many heart kids are going through very rough times. I just want to go to their room right now and hug them like I do every night, but they are not there.
Still, this time away from my sweet babies made me realize that while I have been very good about getting myself out of the funk I was in earlier this year, I still have a long way to go in making time for just me. I've been better. This blog is good for that. I take time to write posts when I need to get my thoughts out there. But, I still don't have enough time set aside for me to be me. I don't normally have time to sit back and enjoy my coffee. I'm either guzzling it on the way out the door, leaving it untouched on the counter, or drinking at my desk at work.
The biggest difference that I noticed with the kids gone is that I feel less guilt. If I take the time to check my email or read the news in the mornings, I usually feel guilty because I should be spending that time with the kids or I should be making their breakfast so we get out the door quicker, so I get to work quicker, so I get home quicker and actually manage to see the kids before they go to bed. But this week, I didn't feel guilty because the only thing I had to do was get myself to work and back. I still saw the Mad Scientist. We had some nice dinners together.
The moral of the story is that that I am tired of the guilt. And tired of no me time.
So, when the kids come back, I intend to change my attitude about myself. I am worth more. And being a working mom doesn't mean that I have to put myself last on the priority list. If I prioritize myself and know I have time set aside for just me, then I think the rest will fall into place.
If I schedule "me time", just like I schedule everything else, I should be able to make it happen. If I know there will be me time, I won't try to continuously sneak in a minute here or there to be me. I can enjoy my time with my kids because that is kid time. I can work when at work because it is work time. I can fully be with my husband when I'm with my husband because it his time. And when it is my time with just me, everyone else can fend for themselves. I think that sounds fair. I am worth it!
What do you do to not lose yourself as a mom?
Anyway, I found myself sans kids for several days. The Mad Scientist and I think it is probably the longest we have ever been away from the Dancing Queen. (She has been knocked unconscious for much longer periods of time, but we were still by her side.)
It was nice. I was able to sleep in later in the morning and get to work earlier. And the only thing keeping me awake at night was myself. There was no crying, no nightmares, no worrying that the kids are too cold and wondering if I should check on them. It was very freeing.
The best part of it all was getting up in the morning and having the house all to myself. I made coffee and sat at my computer, reading what I wanted without interruption. It was so very wonderful.
Of course, I have been going through kid withdrawl and I am beyond excited that my kids will be home tomorrow evening. I miss them so much, especially when so many heart kids are going through very rough times. I just want to go to their room right now and hug them like I do every night, but they are not there.
Still, this time away from my sweet babies made me realize that while I have been very good about getting myself out of the funk I was in earlier this year, I still have a long way to go in making time for just me. I've been better. This blog is good for that. I take time to write posts when I need to get my thoughts out there. But, I still don't have enough time set aside for me to be me. I don't normally have time to sit back and enjoy my coffee. I'm either guzzling it on the way out the door, leaving it untouched on the counter, or drinking at my desk at work.
The biggest difference that I noticed with the kids gone is that I feel less guilt. If I take the time to check my email or read the news in the mornings, I usually feel guilty because I should be spending that time with the kids or I should be making their breakfast so we get out the door quicker, so I get to work quicker, so I get home quicker and actually manage to see the kids before they go to bed. But this week, I didn't feel guilty because the only thing I had to do was get myself to work and back. I still saw the Mad Scientist. We had some nice dinners together.
The moral of the story is that that I am tired of the guilt. And tired of no me time.
So, when the kids come back, I intend to change my attitude about myself. I am worth more. And being a working mom doesn't mean that I have to put myself last on the priority list. If I prioritize myself and know I have time set aside for just me, then I think the rest will fall into place.
If I schedule "me time", just like I schedule everything else, I should be able to make it happen. If I know there will be me time, I won't try to continuously sneak in a minute here or there to be me. I can enjoy my time with my kids because that is kid time. I can work when at work because it is work time. I can fully be with my husband when I'm with my husband because it his time. And when it is my time with just me, everyone else can fend for themselves. I think that sounds fair. I am worth it!
What do you do to not lose yourself as a mom?
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
On Looks
I have never been happy with the way that I look. I can look back at pictures of myself and realize that I was good looking at times in the past, but at that time, I felt unattractive. I've always felt fat. I am totally fat now, but in high school, I was healthy and muscled, and I felt fat. I wasn't.
I've never felt beautiful. Even on my wedding day, I didn't feel beautiful. I still don't see a beautiful bride when I look at my wedding pictures (which is why most of my purchased wedding pictures do not include full pictures of my face, only turning my head).
As I was growing up, I was told I was not beautiful. I could not be beautiful. I could only ever be cute. In fact, the Mad Scientist is the only person to ever call me beautiful. And I know he believes it. And in moments, I've gotten close to believing him, then the little voice returns chanting that I can never be beautiful.
I know beauty is in the eye of the beholder and beauty is only skin deep. I know that what is on the outside doesn't matter. But it never felt good to not be a beauty. It hurt to know nobody thought I was beautiful growing up (I didn't meet the Mad Scientist until I was in my late 20s).
So when my children were born and I saw how beautiful they were, I couldn't help but let them know it. I must tell TRex and DQ how beautiful they are to me at least once a day, if not more. I want them to know they are beautiful to me and that nothing can take that away.
But then, I read an article earlier this week about continuing disparities in the legal profession between men and women. Despite women representing more than 50% of law school graduates for a long time now, the percentage of women in management positions in firms is still minimal. The article went on to discuss how women are still mostly judged by looks, rather than skills.
I've read dozens of similar articles about professional women, about raising girls, or about how society starts when girls are young to define the girls' self-worth through looks, which is bad.
So, I started to think I was bad for telling my children I think they are beautiful. I cursed myself for ohhing and ahhing when DQ dresses up and I tell her she is pretty. I was angry for singling out TRex to let him know is handsome when he gets dressed. I wanted to thwart my subconscious for trying to keep my children from feeling the pain I had and constantly telling them how beautiful I think they are.
And then I realized that I don't only comment on my childrens' looks. I'm not raising children that will only be good enough if they are beauty queens or fashion models. I don't only give my children praise for dressing well or being pretty. I tell them I love them and hug them when they ride a bike, make a new picture, form a new sign in ASL, or sing a new song. I praise them for their accomplishments both physical, intellectual, and creative. (And I am not trying to raise entitled children, so I also scold them when they are naughty, make them work, and they are never allowed to say they can't and must use "I'll try".)
At the end of the day, society is going to make its own judgments about my kids. It is my job to help provide them the tools to succeed and thrive in this world no matter what is thrown at them. One of those tools is being comfortable in their own skin. Knowing that their mother thinks they are beautiful won't help them in 8th grade when they are picked on, but I hope it will provide them with protection so that they don't believe the mean things that will be said.
What do you think?
I've never felt beautiful. Even on my wedding day, I didn't feel beautiful. I still don't see a beautiful bride when I look at my wedding pictures (which is why most of my purchased wedding pictures do not include full pictures of my face, only turning my head).
As I was growing up, I was told I was not beautiful. I could not be beautiful. I could only ever be cute. In fact, the Mad Scientist is the only person to ever call me beautiful. And I know he believes it. And in moments, I've gotten close to believing him, then the little voice returns chanting that I can never be beautiful.
I know beauty is in the eye of the beholder and beauty is only skin deep. I know that what is on the outside doesn't matter. But it never felt good to not be a beauty. It hurt to know nobody thought I was beautiful growing up (I didn't meet the Mad Scientist until I was in my late 20s).
So when my children were born and I saw how beautiful they were, I couldn't help but let them know it. I must tell TRex and DQ how beautiful they are to me at least once a day, if not more. I want them to know they are beautiful to me and that nothing can take that away.
But then, I read an article earlier this week about continuing disparities in the legal profession between men and women. Despite women representing more than 50% of law school graduates for a long time now, the percentage of women in management positions in firms is still minimal. The article went on to discuss how women are still mostly judged by looks, rather than skills.
I've read dozens of similar articles about professional women, about raising girls, or about how society starts when girls are young to define the girls' self-worth through looks, which is bad.
So, I started to think I was bad for telling my children I think they are beautiful. I cursed myself for ohhing and ahhing when DQ dresses up and I tell her she is pretty. I was angry for singling out TRex to let him know is handsome when he gets dressed. I wanted to thwart my subconscious for trying to keep my children from feeling the pain I had and constantly telling them how beautiful I think they are.
And then I realized that I don't only comment on my childrens' looks. I'm not raising children that will only be good enough if they are beauty queens or fashion models. I don't only give my children praise for dressing well or being pretty. I tell them I love them and hug them when they ride a bike, make a new picture, form a new sign in ASL, or sing a new song. I praise them for their accomplishments both physical, intellectual, and creative. (And I am not trying to raise entitled children, so I also scold them when they are naughty, make them work, and they are never allowed to say they can't and must use "I'll try".)
At the end of the day, society is going to make its own judgments about my kids. It is my job to help provide them the tools to succeed and thrive in this world no matter what is thrown at them. One of those tools is being comfortable in their own skin. Knowing that their mother thinks they are beautiful won't help them in 8th grade when they are picked on, but I hope it will provide them with protection so that they don't believe the mean things that will be said.
What do you think?
Monday, July 11, 2011
Rockin' the Baby
I had a totally serious post stirring in my head all day, then I got home and started scoping out all of the great baby pictures for Shell's Rockin' the Baby link-up. I couldn't help but post some more baby pictures of my sweet babies.
I just love looking at my gorgeous babies! I have more photos of my babies as babies at my Baby Fever post. And you can see pictures of other gorgeous babies by checking out the link-up at Things I Can't Say.
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| TRex only a couple of hours old. |
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| TRex at about 3 weeks old. |
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| TRex about 1 week under 2 months old. He was literally caught in his first snow storm in mid-October. |
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| TRex 2 days under 2 months old, sleeping in the Mad Scientist's arms. |
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| Dancing Queen a couple of hours old. |
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| Dancing Queen around 3 weeks old. She was 2 weeks post-op and still on a vent, but one of my favorite pictures of her at this age. |
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| Dancing Queen at 2 months old. Her first day home from the hospital! |
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| Dancing Queen around two months old. |
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Celebration Time!
Last night, my lucky kids had several firsts. They both went to their first carnival. They both went to their first concert. They both saw fireworks for the first time.
The night began with us meeting the Editor, Car Guy, Little Car Guy, the Chef, Ma, and Papa in the parking lot of Ma and Papa's church (actually the Dancing Queen and TRex came with them and the Mad Scientist and I arrived separately since I had to work later than planned). The ten of us then joined the throngs of people heading to the river front. The walk was filled with interesting people to see, lots of offers to purchase glow necklaces, and of course passing the carnival midway. TRex wasn't impressed. He found the walk boring. I enjoyed it though and DQ was pushed the entire way by the Chef, so she had fun.
After a difficult search for the tarp Ma laid out early in the morning, we settled into the side of a hill right by the river. The hill had about a 30 degree incline, so sitting was not easy. We arrived right when the band started to play. DQ thought it was awesome.
The boys looked a little bored with the music though, so the Mad Scientist and the Car Guy took them to the midway for some fun. DQ was jealous and wanted to go to, so Ma decided to take her with the boys. The midway was full of all your street carnival games and rides. Lots of people to see and things to do. Neither of our kids had seen such frivolity before and it was very exciting.
DQ only lasted about 5 minutes though before she wanted her mommy. Ma brought her back to the blanket and immediately DQ asked to go to sleep. (It was 45 minutes past bed time, the temp was high 80s, very humid, and she hadn't really eaten, so she was plain tuckered out.) We made her a nice little spot on the side of the hill, took her glasses off (did I mention DQ got glasses?), and gave her a pacifier.
DQ was ready to sleep, but the music was playing. And wouldn't you know it? That Dancing Queen couldn't help herself. She was laying on her back on the hill, covered in a blanket, sucking a paci, and dancing. She had her arms swinging and body swaying as she laid down. But when you dance while laying down on a 30 degree angle, on top of tarp, you slide right down the hill. So, every couple of minutes, we had to pull DQ back up again. That upset her, so she decided to cease sleeping and go with the fun. She spent the rest of the "concert" dancing.
(I say "concert" because the band wasn't that good and despite being on the opposite side of the river, the base was up so high that it vibrated everything and made it uncomfortable to listen and for the Editor, hard to breathe. There was a point between songs that an entire flock of geese swam up the river in triangle formation, all Canadian geese gray and black, led by one white goose at the tip of the triangle. They got up to the band stand right when the band started to play again. The geese immediately turned around and quickly headed back where they came from. The band definitely deserved the snub.)
DQ didn't care about the quality of the band. She heard a beat and music, so she danced and loved every minute of it. Each time a song ended, she'd clap. (Many times, she was the only one.) We had everyone around us watching her. It was so much fun. She spent a good 20 minutes alone dancing with the Editor and having a blast. Here she is dancing with her Ma.
The boys came back right as the band stopped playing. TRex went on a tilt-a-whirl and bumper cars. He had a blast. This is a huge deal for him because we couldn't even get him to ride the toddler train when he visited Santa. He was too scared. So the idea that he actually got on the tilt-a-whirl is huge. He loved it! Maybe next time it will be easier for him to move past his fears.
As twilight gave way to darkness, DQ grew anxious. She wanted to see the colors in the sky. And finally, the fireworks started. DQ was enthralled. She was laying in her aunt's lap, looking directly at the sky while the fireworks were directly above us. (We literally had the best seats available.) I don't think DQ closed her eyes once for the entire twenty minutes. Simply put, she was in awe. (This morning, she inundated us with questions about when she was going to see the fireworks again.) DQ's reaction was magical for me. And, I have to admit, last night's display was probably the best I'd ever seen in person.
Unfortunately, TRex did not have the same reaction. At the first boom, he screamed and cried. He wanted his puppy dog. Mommy and Daddy were not adequate. Puppy dog was the only one he wanted. I thought we were going to have to leave early, but then inspiration hit and I promised TRex we'd go straight to the car as soon as the fireworks ended to get puppy dog. He stopped screaming and crying at that point, but he is adamant that he will never see fireworks again.
The night ended with the long walk back to the car in the crowds. A fight broke out right next to us and scared the heck out of the Editor and I, afraid for our babies. And the car ride home was an entire story onto itself. Let me just say that the entire world seemed to be leaving down the one road we were heading to, but nobody moved an inch for 15 minutes, then an ambulance came. And then another. And then another. We were eventually able to turn around. But it took us an hour to go a mile. I held my phone up so the melting down kids (awake 4 hours after bedtime) could watch "The Cat in the Hat" and we didn't get home until after midnight.
Overall, the day was a total success. My kids had a blast. I can't wait to do it again and can only hope TRex's fear subsides with time.
Did any of you see fireworks this weekend?
The night began with us meeting the Editor, Car Guy, Little Car Guy, the Chef, Ma, and Papa in the parking lot of Ma and Papa's church (actually the Dancing Queen and TRex came with them and the Mad Scientist and I arrived separately since I had to work later than planned). The ten of us then joined the throngs of people heading to the river front. The walk was filled with interesting people to see, lots of offers to purchase glow necklaces, and of course passing the carnival midway. TRex wasn't impressed. He found the walk boring. I enjoyed it though and DQ was pushed the entire way by the Chef, so she had fun.
After a difficult search for the tarp Ma laid out early in the morning, we settled into the side of a hill right by the river. The hill had about a 30 degree incline, so sitting was not easy. We arrived right when the band started to play. DQ thought it was awesome.
The boys looked a little bored with the music though, so the Mad Scientist and the Car Guy took them to the midway for some fun. DQ was jealous and wanted to go to, so Ma decided to take her with the boys. The midway was full of all your street carnival games and rides. Lots of people to see and things to do. Neither of our kids had seen such frivolity before and it was very exciting.
DQ only lasted about 5 minutes though before she wanted her mommy. Ma brought her back to the blanket and immediately DQ asked to go to sleep. (It was 45 minutes past bed time, the temp was high 80s, very humid, and she hadn't really eaten, so she was plain tuckered out.) We made her a nice little spot on the side of the hill, took her glasses off (did I mention DQ got glasses?), and gave her a pacifier.
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| DQ in her glasses with her pacifier last night. |
(I say "concert" because the band wasn't that good and despite being on the opposite side of the river, the base was up so high that it vibrated everything and made it uncomfortable to listen and for the Editor, hard to breathe. There was a point between songs that an entire flock of geese swam up the river in triangle formation, all Canadian geese gray and black, led by one white goose at the tip of the triangle. They got up to the band stand right when the band started to play again. The geese immediately turned around and quickly headed back where they came from. The band definitely deserved the snub.)
DQ didn't care about the quality of the band. She heard a beat and music, so she danced and loved every minute of it. Each time a song ended, she'd clap. (Many times, she was the only one.) We had everyone around us watching her. It was so much fun. She spent a good 20 minutes alone dancing with the Editor and having a blast. Here she is dancing with her Ma.
The boys came back right as the band stopped playing. TRex went on a tilt-a-whirl and bumper cars. He had a blast. This is a huge deal for him because we couldn't even get him to ride the toddler train when he visited Santa. He was too scared. So the idea that he actually got on the tilt-a-whirl is huge. He loved it! Maybe next time it will be easier for him to move past his fears.
As twilight gave way to darkness, DQ grew anxious. She wanted to see the colors in the sky. And finally, the fireworks started. DQ was enthralled. She was laying in her aunt's lap, looking directly at the sky while the fireworks were directly above us. (We literally had the best seats available.) I don't think DQ closed her eyes once for the entire twenty minutes. Simply put, she was in awe. (This morning, she inundated us with questions about when she was going to see the fireworks again.) DQ's reaction was magical for me. And, I have to admit, last night's display was probably the best I'd ever seen in person.
Unfortunately, TRex did not have the same reaction. At the first boom, he screamed and cried. He wanted his puppy dog. Mommy and Daddy were not adequate. Puppy dog was the only one he wanted. I thought we were going to have to leave early, but then inspiration hit and I promised TRex we'd go straight to the car as soon as the fireworks ended to get puppy dog. He stopped screaming and crying at that point, but he is adamant that he will never see fireworks again.
The night ended with the long walk back to the car in the crowds. A fight broke out right next to us and scared the heck out of the Editor and I, afraid for our babies. And the car ride home was an entire story onto itself. Let me just say that the entire world seemed to be leaving down the one road we were heading to, but nobody moved an inch for 15 minutes, then an ambulance came. And then another. And then another. We were eventually able to turn around. But it took us an hour to go a mile. I held my phone up so the melting down kids (awake 4 hours after bedtime) could watch "The Cat in the Hat" and we didn't get home until after midnight.
Overall, the day was a total success. My kids had a blast. I can't wait to do it again and can only hope TRex's fear subsides with time.
Did any of you see fireworks this weekend?
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
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