tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25070943728177457502024-03-13T21:41:52.202-05:00Raising WilsonsTrying not to mess up too terribly as we raise our three little Wilsons.Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-35894429434590786482015-08-14T14:38:00.001-05:002016-08-14T10:43:18.590-05:00What a Butterfly Taught Me About Living with a DisabilityWe had a pretty bad windstorm in our small town this week. Limbs were down, and pine needles stuck straight into my window screens. We saw trampolines and trash cans out of their designated spots all around the neighborhood.<br />
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Just after the storm, I got out in the back yard to sweep up, pick up, and blow away the leaves and small branches that had fallen, and I spotted a butterfly (looked it up -- it was a Red Admiral Butterfly). It was hurt; one wing was broken. and it was unable to fly. It jumped a foot or so at a time, but as hard she tried, she couldn't quite lift up off of the ground. </div>
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Now, I am pretty much an expert on saving creatures in the wild. Put them in a thing. Give them food and water, and release them when they are all better. Yep, I'm a regular veterinarian. Baby birds fall from trees and kittens get lost and such. But can you nurse a butterfly back to health? I wondered.</div>
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Once a delicate little wing is broken, can this butter ever fly? (Sorry). My kids had decorated a mason jar at Bible school, so I decided to launch a rescue mission. I scooped up the little butterfly with the jar, which already had woven paper with nice air holes across its top. My husband Chris remembered that the butterflies at the Insectarium in New Orleans liked bananas, so after I placed a damp paper towel in the jar, he added a slice of banana later that night. </div>
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And I guess it was resting. Eating through it's freaky little tongue-straw. Frantically trying to escape through the top of the jar. </div>
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We left her alone for a couple of days. And the wing was still broken. It looked as though our little friend was permanently disabled. What could we do? Like, can you buy prosthetic butterfly wings on eBay? Is that a thing? How freaking cute would that be? Somebody get on that.</div>
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Can a butterfly with a disability survive in the wild? Wouldn't she just get eaten immediately by the first bird that spotted her, despite her efforts to hide the bright orange on her wings and display only the leafy gray and brown of the underside? </div>
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Our family knows a thing or two about disabilities. Our twin sons, Jack and Woody, were born with Spina Bifida, which is a permanent physical disability that has partially paralyzed them and has made getting around very challenging, among other things. </div>
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It was impossible for me to watch this broken little butterfly in the jar and not reflect on the nature of disabilities. They suck. They suck for the people who have them, and they can suck for the caregivers. It just is what it is. </div>
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My son Woody wants to carry his backpack on his back, not on the back of his wheelchair or strapped to his chest. Jack wants to jump off the diving board like the other kids do, not from a seated position. And all we can say to them is: "Well, we can either do it a little differently, or not at all. Letting it get us down won't help anything, so let's just figure it out!" </div>
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I decided to let the butterfly go this morning. And let me tell you, not everyone would agree with this decision. Some might say, "But it will just get hurt, stepped on, or eaten! Keep it in the jar. Maybe it can live longer at least. Maybe it can get used to life in a jar. It'll be safe." </div>
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I am not confident that I did the right thing, but as a mother of two boys who are disabled (not a bad word), I simply felt like she needed to get out. Screw being safe. Life in a jar is poo.</div>
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People with disabilities just want to get out -- to play, to work, to travel, to live life. It might take them a while to get where they are going or to do what they want to do, but shouldn't we let them try? Should we stick them in a separate place only for fragile people because it is inconvenient for us to have them around or because it gives us the heebie-jeebies?</div>
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Our butterfly was thrilled to leave the jar even though she had everything she needed to survive. Because she didn't have what she really wanted: the freedom to hop clumsily around my back yard and just be a butterfly. </div>
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To be free.</div>
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Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-53839325792450439352014-03-28T14:23:00.002-05:002014-03-28T16:39:11.050-05:00Love It!<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I am really missing my three littles, who have spent two nights away from us; I'm about to run out pick them up from their Maw Maw and Paw Paw's house. Since I have a rare moment of solitude after work, I decided to scribble about a few simple little things I am loving right now! </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">1. <b>Our new large capacity washer/dryer set has changed my life. </b>All of our clothes are clean right now. All of them. What the?! And they even give you the time left in the cycle -- I have an unhealthy love for these machines. Some things in life are worth spending money on, and the timing was also ideal. The washer pump just went out, and the dryer was on its last leg. Meanwhile, the set I liked happened to be on sale. <i>It's the little things, dude</i>. Just in case anyone reading this happens to be in the market, ours is a 4.5 cu.ft. washer capacity Whirlpool Cabrio set. LOVE it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">2. <b>The Wii Mario Kart game, our newest toy.</b> Woody and Ellie are having so much fun with this. Jack is too <strike>wack-a-doo</strike> busy to sit still that long, but he has started helping me with laundry and supper while the other two play, which is pretty hilarious. Woody can even drive while he is standing up with his big boots on, which encourages him to work on his balance! A friend of Chris's let us borrow the game and the controls for it -- <i>people are awesome</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">3. <b>Why did I not know about crowder peas? </b>We cook a pound of beans or peas at least once a week, so I picked these up this time. <i>So good</i>. Mom says I've had them, but she makes stuff up all the time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">4. <b>Ellie's adorable voice while toothless! </b>She lost her two front teeth, and I just can't take out cute she sounds: "Mith Johnthon thaid we are going on a field thwip to the movieths!" Ahh!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">5. <b>Our yard and back patio, and even the driveway. </b>For our family, flat surfaces are a thing of beauty -- the boys rely on wheels to get around, so hills, rocks, sand, and grass are frustrating. Our little flat fenced-in yard lets us get outside because we can roll right out and enjoy it, during these few times of year when the weather is so yummy. The boys' new electric four-wheelers -- lots of birthday money well spent -- also let them explore <i>beyond the pavement</i>. Hard to describe ow huge that is. Our friends and family are to thank for that one. Love. </span></div>
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Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-28697521204156090372014-01-09T10:09:00.004-06:002014-01-09T10:56:39.592-06:00I Must Have Done Something Good.<br />
Last night, after getting the kids home from school and doing all the stuff it takes to get everyone settled and happy for a bit, I cooked a little supper (lentil tacos and spicy honey roasted corn kernels and hominy -- mmmm). I am trying to learn to cook meatless more often, and it turns out that I don't miss meat all that much, at least for a few nights each week. After Chris made it home and we had eaten, I started in on the dishes. Worst part of cooking, hands down. Boo!<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>But then, I watched what unfolded, and I immediately paused to say a little prayer of thanks. Here's what I saw: </b></span><br />
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Chris saw me head to the sink and he simply started getting the kids ready for bed; all the steps involved take quite a while, and he knew that if he waited, bedtime would get later and later, which would set us up for a tougher time tomorrow. So, he helped everyone get clean, use the restroom-- more complicated than it sounds for a kid with SB -- take their medicine and breathing treatments, get in their pajamas, and settle down on the couch.<br />
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<b>Not even a hiccup. </b>He didn't stop to question whether this was a man's work or even his responsibility. Two jobs needed to be done. And there are two of us. So, <i>duh</i>. <br />
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<b>Sadly, I know that this act of partnership is not so commonplace in many families, and I am sometimes smart enough to be thankful for it.</b><br />
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The night went on, and while I was exhausted and had kissed everyone goodnight, he said their prayers with them all, tucked in the boys, and helped Ellie with her devotional Bible reading, while I took a hot bath.<br />
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<b>Dude, do I have it good! </b></div>
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He poked his head into the bathroom to say, "I noticed the grocery list is getting a little long. I will run to Walmart while you relax. Love you."<br />
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<b>All this, </b>after he's worked all day, and driven an hour one way to do so.<br />
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<b>All this</b>, while also being a model of health and an active lifestyle for our family. He is teaching our kids to take good care of their bodies, so they will take care of them later in life. He even went running in the cold, muddy weather on his lunch break that day. Yes, he did it barefooted, which is just eww. But still!<br />
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<b>All this, after 11 years of marriage. </b>We celebrated our anniversary last week, and I totally get it now when people say sappily, "I love him even more today." <br />
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<b>All this,</b> when a lot of dads would be watching TV, fiddling in the garage, planning their next hunting trip, or just doing their own thing. <br />
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<b>He is my partner. He knows we are a team.</b></div>
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Without a husband, it would be very difficult to manage parenting and working outside of the home. But I also shudder to think of doing this with a husband who, unlike Chris, is not as invested in the lives of our children and the <i>making of our home</i> as I am.<br />
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<b>It seems common sense, and <i>it should be.</i></b> I am so very thankful that I have a partner in life, who respects and loves me. Who gets it. Who knows that no matter what others believe about gender roles and chains of command and all of that nonsense, when the going gets tough, tough guys can change a diaper, do the shopping, bathe a wriggly toddler, unload the dishwasher, or paint toenails with the best of 'em.<br />
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<b>All this, and good-looking, too! </b><br />
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<b>All this, and he keeps us laughing along the way.</b><br />
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<b>Last night, I felt like Maria, singing to Captain Von Trapp in the garden: </b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Somewhere in my wicked, miserable past, There must have been a moment of truth. For here you are, standing there, loving me, whether or not you should. So, somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good!"</i></span>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-84411772532225344482013-01-21T18:13:00.000-06:002013-01-21T20:06:56.835-06:00My Three Little Birds<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This kid-ified version of the wonderful Bob Marley song "Three Little Birds" plays on our Pandora in the van all the time, and I find myself incredibly moved by it. Something about those little kid voices singing about life being all right (not just alright) simply destroys me. And encourages me. And transports me. </span></b><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>It goes: </b></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Rise up this mornin',</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Smile with the risin' sun,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Three little birds</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Each by my doorstep</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Singin' sweet songs</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Of melodies pure and true,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sayin', ("This is my message to you-ou-ou: ")</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Singin': "Don't worry 'bout a thing,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Singin': "Don't worry (don't worry) 'bout a thing,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">'Cause every little thing gonna be all right! "</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I guess it's because I have days when I rise up and start the day worried and exhausted, and then I see my "three little birds." They sing sweet songs over me -- so pure and true. They have a message for me, that every little thing really will be all right. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">They fill me with hope. I am so freaking blessed. </span></b><br />
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<br />Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-26472332195379253082013-01-18T08:33:00.000-06:002013-01-18T08:46:12.409-06:00Three Empty Books <h4>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">All three. I don't remember any of the details requested in these books. When did Ellie first eat solid food? No clue. What was Jack's favorite toy when he was a one-year-old? Um. . . drawing a blank. Woody's first haircut? Like, a while ago? </span></span></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>But I can always explore my Facebook to see how far we've come. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I opened that account while I was pregnant with Ellie, about 6 years ago. I also started this blog right after the boys were born -- almost 4 years ago -- in order to sort of blab about what I was thinking, experiencing, and feeling as a new mom of three, two of whom have physical challenges.</span><br />
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<i><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The blog has collected dust over the years, but I'm glad I can always open it up to look back at what was on in my mind at different points of the journey, which is wonderful. </span></b></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A few of my friends have resolved to blog more in this new year, and while I probably never will be a faithful blogger, I am inspired to keep this terribly designed and frequently cheesy blog up and running, since the baby books won't start filling themselves up. This'll hafta do. :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">-- Woody ate his very first and only piece of fruit, a chunk of banana. Newsworthy. </span></div>
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-- We were reading the <i>Hunger Games </i>and desperately seeking to borrow the second and third books (thanks Angela!). </span></div>
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-- Playing the kids' (including the boys') favorite board game, "Pretty, Pretty Princess."</span><br />
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-- Woody and Jack rode the trolley all around Natchitoches at their birthday party. A 3-year-old boy's dream come true.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-- Watched Chris finish his first 10K with his brother Scott, who had just returned from a deployment in Kuwait. </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--7VQc_YbrPQ/UOuK-AblabI/AAAAAAAAAVE/2ni-sVhCrSo/s1600/julie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="179" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--7VQc_YbrPQ/UOuK-AblabI/AAAAAAAAAVE/2ni-sVhCrSo/s320/julie.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><br />
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-- I was <strike>terrified</strike> thrilled to read poems alongside Julie Kane "and friends" at the Tom Peyton Memorial Arts Festival in Alexandria, LA. </span></div>
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-- Spending Easter with family in New Orleans and visiting City Park.</span><br />
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</span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YBh_eoq4WSw/UO928QvtPUI/AAAAAAAAAVU/NHPfuOlOj4E/s1600/kidszoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YBh_eoq4WSw/UO928QvtPUI/AAAAAAAAAVU/NHPfuOlOj4E/s320/kidszoo.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<br />
-- Quick trip to Tyler, TX to look at wheelchair vans and visit the zoo.</span><br />
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-- Chris began a string of work trips to California, and I had an opportunity to see how much he does for the kids when he's home . . .</span><br />
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-- Jack asking for a "blesshue" when he sneezed!</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rpsDKEhkPQA/UPlVhYs7afI/AAAAAAAAAV8/KDVdbTVB79E/s1600/brenynnew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rpsDKEhkPQA/UPlVhYs7afI/AAAAAAAAAV8/KDVdbTVB79E/s320/brenynnew.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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-- Welcoming a new cousin, Brenyn, into the world. </span><br />
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-- Celebrating Ellie's 5th birthday. She puts the sparkle in our family.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rr4G55g43bQ/UO93WmsJJDI/AAAAAAAAAVc/Cb4tvejsEuw/s1600/ellie5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rr4G55g43bQ/UO93WmsJJDI/AAAAAAAAAVc/Cb4tvejsEuw/s320/ellie5.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-- Jack calling the UPS truck a chocolate milk truck. Woody telling us not the let the baseballs bite when we go to bed. So cute it hurts.</span><br />
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-- My big boys got their new big braces (HKAFOs) to help them stand. Overjoyed to see them filled with pride.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rG-DvmZNQRM/UO-Iwmp7YfI/AAAAAAAAAVs/lr0QxyomLiU/s1600/jackhkafos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rG-DvmZNQRM/UO-Iwmp7YfI/AAAAAAAAAVs/lr0QxyomLiU/s320/jackhkafos.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-- Asking Ellie what I would do without her, and her replying, "Well, you would have to go get stuff yourself."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-- Chris reading <em>The Foolish Tortoise </em>to the kids in a British accent. So lucky to have him.</span><br />
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-- Still having three kids who nap at the same time and give their Mama a much-needed break during the long, hot summer. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kksRZCRIBiU/UPlWhVvj1TI/AAAAAAAAAWM/guAB3_P9j_4/s1600/mom65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kksRZCRIBiU/UPlWhVvj1TI/AAAAAAAAAWM/guAB3_P9j_4/s320/mom65.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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-- Surprise 65th birthday party for Maw Maw Judy, at her own house. I gave her a huge Medicare card to commemorate -- because I am goofy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-- Finally getting to announce that Nene was expecting a baby!</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uE20zz7PDvs/UPlWypQxMEI/AAAAAAAAAWU/fgkQ8Tmtv9U/s1600/neenexpecting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uE20zz7PDvs/UPlWypQxMEI/AAAAAAAAAWU/fgkQ8Tmtv9U/s320/neenexpecting.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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-- After fighting through her terrible stage fright, Ellie went on stage to perform a musical for Summer Music Camp in Fairview! She was so proud of her first performance, and so were we, of course. </span><br />
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-- My birthday visit from Sissy and Maw Maw Judy and the lights went out -- how exciting! </span><br />
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-- We finally have a wheelchair lift on the big Nissan van -- woohoo! </span><br />
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-- Ellie singing "Woah, woah, woah your boat, gently down the stweam. Melanie, Melanie, Melanie, Melanie. Like a pot of stweam." I can still hear her sweet little voice.</span><br />
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</span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N6UMlNT0lUg/UPlXAjJJ1II/AAAAAAAAAWc/o1rv_EwZnmo/s1600/elliekindergarten.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-N6UMlNT0lUg/UPlXAjJJ1II/AAAAAAAAAWc/o1rv_EwZnmo/s320/elliekindergarten.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><br />
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-- My little girl starts Kindergarten. No way!</span><br />
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-- We were sad to leave Ms. Paula when the boys moved to a new school, but overjoyed that the boys' fantastic new teacher, Ms. KimberLeigh, wasn't moving, and they could keep her all year! </span><br />
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-- Checking out the NSU football game from the good seats with Bill and Phyllis was lots of fun. Thank you!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
-- Riding in the big van to Florien, LA each week with our friends Michelle and Phoenix to read books with families was always an adventure.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h-o4CDmV37Y/UPlZ4qwSv_I/AAAAAAAAAXo/L7YoOTm_kEQ/s1600/wilsonfamnov2012+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h-o4CDmV37Y/UPlZ4qwSv_I/AAAAAAAAAXo/L7YoOTm_kEQ/s320/wilsonfamnov2012+001.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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-- Taking a big family picture is a great excuse to visit with plenty of aunts, uncles, and cousins. </span><br />
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</span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d72PsOemsPA/UPlX0DIH_KI/AAAAAAAAAWk/PzMbMc45_I0/s1600/tgivingwagon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d72PsOemsPA/UPlX0DIH_KI/AAAAAAAAAWk/PzMbMc45_I0/s200/tgivingwagon.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mbT1h6KXvJc/UPlX8NYytbI/AAAAAAAAAW0/g_JpvziB71w/s1600/cousinsnola.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mbT1h6KXvJc/UPlX8NYytbI/AAAAAAAAAW0/g_JpvziB71w/s200/cousinsnola.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">-- Thanksgiving fun at Sissy's and with the New Orleans cousins, aunts, and uncles.</span><br />
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-- Baby Shower season began for Nene and her soon-to-be adorably rotten Isabel.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--guyILO0fzw/UPlYGmb7rwI/AAAAAAAAAW8/zH55EHrcB-8/s1600/neenshower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="217" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--guyILO0fzw/UPlYGmb7rwI/AAAAAAAAAW8/zH55EHrcB-8/s320/neenshower.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dQ-J6gDQjhQ/UPlYUjIdaAI/AAAAAAAAAXE/S2zkpXVw5lY/s1600/boysflu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dQ-J6gDQjhQ/UPlYUjIdaAI/AAAAAAAAAXE/S2zkpXVw5lY/s320/boysflu.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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-- Flu x 3 kids= missing out on a little of the Christmas fun, but enjoying a quiet day with Maw Maw Sheryl, Paw Paw Travis, and Maw Maw Frances in Zwolle when they were finally fever free was a Christmas miracle!</span><br />
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-- Just after Christmas #2 in Covington, we got to meet the best gift for the new year -- baby Isabel!</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wZO3mpOxSX4/UPlaSXufpzI/AAAAAAAAAXw/BERPGBQDWF8/s1600/kidsisabel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wZO3mpOxSX4/UPlaSXufpzI/AAAAAAAAAXw/BERPGBQDWF8/s320/kidsisabel.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-43841874970612484102012-08-14T14:37:00.005-05:002012-08-14T14:42:02.924-05:00Wilson Summer Olympics<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Our friends, the Terrells, set up a super cool backyard slip-and-slide for a birthday party and church party. They also graciously allowed us to try it out as a family. Hilarity ensued -- safe and almost 100% accessible hilarity. If only we had a little hill in our backyard! </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">First up is Ellie: </span></h4>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">Perfect belly form and extra points for distance -- a </span><span style="color: #f1c232;">Gold </span><span style="color: red;">Medal!</span></span><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"> </span></span></h3>
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<span style="color: blue;">Next, Jack: </span></h4>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: normal;">The sitting slide attempt is very risky, but it pays off with a great distance! The commentator is cracking up! Jack wins </span><span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: normal;">Gold</span><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: normal;">! </span></h3>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And finally, Woody: </span></h4>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Woody enters the team event with his partner, Daddy! He has three position changes and sticks the face-landing! </span><span style="color: #f1c232; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Gold</span><span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Medal for Technical Merit! </span></span></h3>
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<br />Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-19536302732596607652012-07-12T18:25:00.006-05:002012-07-12T18:48:55.721-05:00Why Not?<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>"No, Jack, don't shove a DVD into the VCR!" (true story); "No, Woody, don't dump your milk on your head!"; "No, you can't have candy for breakfast, Ellie!"</b></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But in those it's-really-not-such-a big-deal cases, I try to ask, "Why Not?"</span><br /><br /><h3>
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> Why not </i>play in the dirt?</span></b></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>
Why not </i>dress up as Hollywood Horse, Boy Princess, and Flying Cat?</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>
Why not</i> go to the dollar movie to see Elmo? Well, I could think of a few reasons; still . . .</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Why not</i> have a tea party lunch?</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And<i> </i>finally<i>, why not</i> play in the rain?</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Trying to be a "why not" mama takes a lot of energy! Painting, play-dohing (new word! bonus.) cooking, pretending, and making daily messes seems crazy, but from what I've heard, one day soon, my three littles won't care to do any of that stuff any more. <span style="color: purple;">So, I'm trying to carpe the heck out of this stinkin' diem. </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Happy Summer :)</b></span></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-61313041481154184902012-06-18T20:56:00.000-05:002012-06-18T21:09:54.911-05:00Anna, the Ladybug<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Ellie has a pet. </b>That is, if a ladybug even qualifies as a pet. About 3 weeks ago, Ellie brought a ladybug home; she held in her fist all the way home from church and then asked if she could keep it. After a long discussion about how the ladybug wants to be outside, might miss its family, needs fresh air, might die if we keep it in a cup, eats bugs and we don't have any bugs, and so on, her sad face won, and we began creating a little ladybug habitat. <br /><br />What else do you do when you need to know how to care for your new pet? <b>We googled it. </b>And guess what? Ladybugs eat aphids, of course, but if you give it moistened non-acidic fruit (like a raisin or banana) and a moistened paper towel, it will get by just fine. So, our little ladybug home was complete, and she (according to Ellie) had a name, as well: Anna. Now, this is a nice name for a tiny orange spotted ladybug, I thought. I also thought that this bug was lucky to have survived the trip home and probably wouldn't make it through the afternoon, but what did I know? Here we are three weeks later, and Anna is happy as a lark in her tiny home. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Anna enjoying her apple slice. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Who knew ladybugs even lived that long? Of course, she seizes any opportunity for escape while we change out her moist paper towel or the brown banana slice, but so far, she's not only alive, but seems pretty happy. Can you tell if a bug is happy? Food -- check. Water -- check. Oxygen -- check. I think that pretty much sums it up, but I still feel a little sorry for her in there. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anna playing "How do I get out of here", her favorite pastime. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We have tried a few different times to convince Ellie to release her, but You should really see this depressed look she gets. I don't know what we'll do when the thing <strike>bites it</strike> moves to the ladybug farm in the sky. <br /><br />It boils down to the fact that my kids have asked about getting a pet more times than I can count. Apparently, Ellie decided to take matters into her own hands. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>So, here is a video of our adorable little pet, Anna (sigh): </b></span><br />
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<br />Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-28884478142887587622012-05-29T22:17:00.000-05:002012-05-30T17:42:09.714-05:00I blinked.<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That's it. I must have blinked. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">How is it that my Ellie is turning 5 </span></b><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">in just two days? </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I guess I'd better write some things down before I blink again and she's in college :) </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">First things first: we have a new baby in the family! </span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nothing can brighten up the world more quickly than a brand new, tiny person. We had a baby shower for Caity at our house in April, and then we finally got to meet our new niece Brenyn the other day, even though she didn't wake up to say hello to us. She's a beautiful little miracle! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Babies on the Brain:</b>The boys and Ellie are all trying to figure out exactly how this having a baby stuff works. They have each been pretending to have babies in their bellies for about a month now. Just today, Woody put a toy tiger inside his Elmo pajamas and declared, "I having a tiny baby tiger, Mommy!" Watching <i>Milo and Otis </i>with their dad last night may have <strike>confused </strike>helped that learning curve along, since both a cat AND a dog give birth in that movie -- who knew? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Welcome to the World, Brenyn! </span></h4>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1WsjGfzZo_s/T8WQSSba35I/AAAAAAAAAQ4/Fq5gaJodvHo/s1600/IMG_1494%5B1%5D" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1WsjGfzZo_s/T8WQSSba35I/AAAAAAAAAQ4/Fq5gaJodvHo/s320/IMG_1494%5B1%5D" width="240" /></a></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-40265845964145993482012-04-16T12:20:00.000-05:002012-04-16T13:00:36.116-05:00With a Little Help<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">A fellow SB mama (mother of a child born with Spina Bifida) recently posted a video on Facebook of her 3-year-old little guy chanting into the camera: "I can do anything! It might be a little different, but I can do it!" This is so great and so cute, but is it true? I struggle with all the can'ts my boys face every day. It's sort of like trying to put yourself to sleep -- the more you tell yourself just to relax and not think about how late it's getting, the harder it is to drift off. </span></span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Playgrounds. Easter egg hunts. Bouncy houses. Swimming pools. Road trips. Buying shoes. Public bathrooms. Hot surfaces. Narrow hallways. Small vehicles. Grass. Sand. Carpet. Stairs. Thresholds. Tall tables. Inclines. T-ball. Childcare. </span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">These are everyday things for most families, but they can make an SB parent fret; they feel like walls, obstacles, limits: How will we include them without making them the center of attention? How will we change him privately if the change table is right in the middle of the restroom, not in a stall? Who can help us so we can participate? Do we need to explain all their needs or do we want people to just treat them <em>normally</em>? Will Ellie be ok fending for herself while I try to keep up with the boys? Is it even safe for us to be lifting and carrying these boys around? Will we need to bring the all-terrain stroller? Will the boys be obedient enough to manage this in their wheelchairs? How do I explain to everyone else, and to them, why we have to do things differently? </span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sometimes I worry about these kinds of things, and then I worry that I'm worrying about them, since all that worry might rub off on the boys and make them grow up feeling sorry for themselves. </span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When I look at these little challenges, I know I should be thankful -- not very many years ago, people living with disabilites were institutionalized, were completely homebound, and didn't have laws that demanded their access to public places. I need to get my stinking act together for the sake of my family. I need to choose a mantra. <em>Which one do you like?</em></span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">1. We might have to plan, adapt, and be patient, but we <u>must</u> play, live, go, be, and do out in the community. </span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">2. We all deserve access, privacy, and independence, even in a wheelchair. </span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">3. Nobody ever said life would be easy, but we choose joy.</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">4. Some people are alone in their struggles. We are blessed; we have each other.</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">5. Yes, we can do it. We might do it a little differently, but we can do it. </span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia;">(With a little help)</span></strong>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-11239500252898787402012-01-19T12:50:00.001-06:002012-01-19T12:56:44.800-06:00The Bright Side<strong>I have started writing several blog posts recently, well, in my head anyway. </strong><br />
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1. The adventure of cousins coming for a sleepover during Thanksgiving break. <br />
2. Our latest Shriner's visit and all the medical updates on the boys. <br />
3. The fun-filled and jam-packed Christmas holidays. <br />
4. A year in review post highlighting all the exciting happenings in 2011. <br />
5. The whirlwind girls only trip to New Orleans with Ellie. <br />
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But, when I honestly express what's on my mind, I worry, fret, get the jitters, and even start to tear up. It's too much sometimes -- the lists in my head, like mutli-colored juggling rings all about the crash down if I don't start grabbing them in the right order.<br />
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Maybe it's just been a hard week trying to get back into the habit of working all day, juggling my time, handling all the day-to-day messes, and putting out fires left and right -- all of it just to get up the next day to start over again. Maybe I just miss the snuggles and giggles I get to see all day when the kids are home, even if it is exhausting. Maybe I just need a <strike>stiff drink</strike> nap. <br />
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Well, instead, I think I will put off writing those other blogs and follow the lead of one of my friends and have my very own "Thankful Thursday" to list those things for which I am grateful. It has to be better than sitting around feeling all bummed out. <br />
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<strong>I am thankful for: </strong><br />
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Jack learning to say "I missed you, Mommy!" <br />
Ellie getting so excited about having slippers. <br />
Woody pretending there's a smiling goldfish swimming in his cup of water. <br />
Chris reading a book I just finished, and me wanting so badly to talk about it but having to wait. <br />
How much my mom loves all things Louisiana and wants all of us to love it, too. <br />
My sister's tendency to always stay positive and energetic, even when she might not feel like it. <br />
Carlos's ability to eat everything on his plate and my red beans and rice, too. He's a beast. <br />
My sweet in-laws' willingness to spend time with my kids when I know it's not always convenient.<br />
My pediatrician working us in for asthma issues on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. <br />
My friends at church who remind me I am not alone in my lamenting.<br />
The extended families we love so much -- all very unique and equally goofy. <br />
Lifelong friends who know me so well, even if we haven't spoken in months.<br />
Leading a discussion about literature, and the room has an atmosphere of curiosity and anticipation. <br />
Stepping on toys barefoot in the dark and trying not to introduce potty words to the little ones. <br />
A friend giving us extra groceries even though she's facing a tough time herself. <br />
Friends and even friends of friends offering to help us if we feel overwhelmed. <br />
Jack telling me eating vegetables is stinky. <br />
Ellie being sad when we are out of broccoli for a snack. <br />
Woody continuing to say Merry Christmas to everyone he sees even though it's nearly February.<br />
A husband who gets the boys changed and dressed before I'm even out of bed in the morning.<br />
The teachers who are so patient when they are outnumbered and surrounded by conspiring trouble-makers.<br />
Coffee with a splash of milk. <br />
A letter in the mail instead of more junk. <br />
A break in the work day to write a silly blog post and zone out for a few minutes.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NYrUv7K_fmw/TxhnaILUbdI/AAAAAAAAANw/XYIehTmgr0o/s1600/kids+in+bed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nfa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NYrUv7K_fmw/TxhnaILUbdI/AAAAAAAAANw/XYIehTmgr0o/s320/kids+in+bed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-50296080880501997732011-11-16T00:03:00.004-06:002012-01-30T15:54:09.598-06:00Big Boys<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Confession: </span></strong><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7KiypX5SboI/TsNPdddmvBI/AAAAAAAAANo/pZ_H_RXXHvI/s1600/Fall+2011+214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7KiypX5SboI/TsNPdddmvBI/AAAAAAAAANo/pZ_H_RXXHvI/s320/Fall+2011+214.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Jack and Woody are creeping up on three years old, and I'm not ready to treat them like big boys.</strong> </span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">To be honest, it's easier to forget they're getting older and just let them stay babies, especially since we still carry them around, push them in a stroller, and change their diapers. They roll around on the floor and sometimes crawl. And they still like to be snuggled, which is a big plus! People at Walmart think they are enormous, brilliant 1-year-olds, since all they see are two fat little babies sitting in the buggy and talking to everyone they meet.</span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">However, Jack and Woody make it very clear that they are no longer babies. They get tired of being on the floor. They get fed up with seeing the world from everyone's feet, and they don't like sitting in a <em>baby</em> high chair to eat meals at home. They also get frustrated when they need help with simple things and are not able to run away from us and just go wild like little boys do. All of this causes them to rely on their speech -- they have to tell us what they want. Consequently, their vocabularies are sky-rocketing and they have started doing just that! Woody will ask to go play in his room with his trucks and trains. Jack will ask to play with the kitchen in Ellie's room. Woody asks to sit on the potty (we let him, although we're not sure what exactly will come of that one). They clearly know a baby when they see one, and from what we can tell, <em>they </em>know they are <em>not</em> babies. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>The Wheelchair Conundrum </strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The boys are getting pretty skilled with their wheelchairs at school; they roll up to circle time to be with their friends and push up to the table for lunch. They make us so proud! The bummer is, at home, we just don't have the space for them to use their wheelchairs much, if at all. They can't turn around in the hallway or bathrooms, our bedrooms are all carpeted, and if they try to steer around the furniture in the living/dining room, they end up ramming each other, the walls, or the furniture (also, our dining table hits right at their eye level when they are in their chairs, which worries me). This is yet another instance where having double the <strike>trouble</strike> blessings means double the dilemma. We love our home, and we are very thankful for it. I can't imagine how we would have handled this in the trailer we rented before we moved here! However, we went from no children to three, two of whom are physically challenged, within two years. We certainly didn't expect that! And we picked out ceramic tile floors before we knew we'd have children who would crawl for a lot longer than most do. I have a hate/hate relationship with these floors. You should see the bruises on my <strike>babies'</strike> big boys' arms. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>The Plan for a Big Boy Upgrade</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I am constantly trying to figure out better ways to use the space we have for what we all need, but that can be very frustrating. What I know is I have to make it work, and what we need will always be in flux. However, for right now, there are a few key areas that need a big boy upgrade, so I am thinking about purchasing, borrowing, or stumbling upon a few things within the next six months or so, and each one will help us treat the boys like three-year-olds, not babies. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Wish me luck!</span>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-1681713599417678812011-10-30T14:12:00.013-05:002011-10-30T14:25:07.630-05:00Get Real!<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong>"Taking Pictures of the Little Ones, a Study." </strong></span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong> Pictures we might print for Maw Maw or post on Facebook:</strong></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dTp30niWnrU/Tq2eOnWGmyI/AAAAAAAAALo/TFea2ULMkTQ/s1600/Fall+2011+105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dTp30niWnrU/Tq2eOnWGmyI/AAAAAAAAALo/TFea2ULMkTQ/s320/Fall+2011+105.jpg" width="320px" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LHenXgTpLBI/Tq2ewbmcPlI/AAAAAAAAAMI/Zri6pVFEEk8/s1600/Fall+2011+181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LHenXgTpLBI/Tq2ewbmcPlI/AAAAAAAAAMI/Zri6pVFEEk8/s320/Fall+2011+181.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>The other 100 or so we snapped while trying to get one good picture:</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--b-KgtGkZC8/Tq2eWlzqa0I/AAAAAAAAALw/U4reJeSJaU8/s1600/Fall+2011+144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--b-KgtGkZC8/Tq2eWlzqa0I/AAAAAAAAALw/U4reJeSJaU8/s320/Fall+2011+144.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3lh5cxuuQK0/Tq2efJxFiwI/AAAAAAAAAL4/DgJwDQ-X-50/s1600/Fall+2011+147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3lh5cxuuQK0/Tq2efJxFiwI/AAAAAAAAAL4/DgJwDQ-X-50/s320/Fall+2011+147.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3lh5cxuuQK0/Tq2efJxFiwI/AAAAAAAAAL4/DgJwDQ-X-50/s1600/Fall+2011+147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-76883542746649746372011-09-22T14:07:00.001-05:002011-09-23T09:55:27.013-05:00Special<strong>What is the response when you ask a couple who is expecting if they want a boy or a girl? "As long as it's healthy, we'll be happy." If you know any special needs kids and their parents, you probably would then think to yourself, well, what if it isn't? What then?</strong><br />
<br />
I have become very sensitive about common little sayings and comments like these lately. When we are insensitive about other people's weaknesses, on some level we are implying that we don't think we have any of our own, I think. <br />
<br />
I am claustrophobic. My little guys have a birth defect that will cause them to be physically challenged for life. I have students who have trouble with reading comprehension. My daughter Ellie needs glasses to see well. Some folks had speech problems when they were little. Some little boys aren't good at sports. Some babies were born with devastating cognitive disabilities. A little boy I know gets confused and says off-the-wall comments at school because he learns a little differently than the other 19 kids in his class. We are all individually gifted and challenged, aren't we? We're all<em> special</em>, aren't we? We all needed <em>special education</em> at one point in our lives. It's not us and them; it's just <em>us. </em><br />
<br />
I know I say thoughtless stuff every day, all day. And I don't mean any harm, so I know other people don't either. But there have been a few things lately that have just eaten away at me, and I have to write it down or I might just implode. <br />
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<strong>1. <em>Retarded</em> is not a cute way to say someone is funny, silly, crazy, or stupid. </strong><br />
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My doctor referred to men as being <em>retarded</em> because they never think about the little things that need to be done around the house. I think this one goes without saying, but why are people STILL using this word in this way? I mean, she's a <em>doctor.</em> I expect more. Maybe I expect too much.<br />
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<strong>2. <em>Gay</em> is not a word to use when you mean something is stupid, pointless, ridiculous, or weird. </strong><br />
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Again, seriously, is this 1950? If they know what the word means, then why do folks still use it in this context? Think about it. Let's say you are Irish and someone uses that word when they want to express the word <em>stupid:</em> "I can't believe you punched a brick wall ; that's so <em>Irish</em>!" It's not only offensive; it doesn't even make sense. <br />
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<strong>3. <em>Special</em> is not a word to use in order to be condescending to people who have developmental challenges. </strong><br />
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This was originally such a great word -- instead of focusing on kids' problems, we focused on their exceptionality -- they are special. Unique. Differently-abled. But recently, I have heard teachers use this term sarcastically instead: "This little boy in my class gives me a hard time every day, but he's my <em>special </em>child, so I just laugh at him." Or they complain that they have too many <em>SPED </em>kids in their class and it's not fair to the <em>normal</em> students. They are <em>teachers</em>; their job is to teach all children. What are they modeling when they do this? That this student's needs are less important somehow? <br />
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<strong>On the kids' <em>Jack's Big Music Show</em> cd, there's a song called "I'm Not Perfect." And the lyrics are adorable: </strong><br />
<br />
I'm not perfect; no, I'm not. <br />
I'm not perfect, but I got what I got. <br />
I do my very best; I do my very best; <br />
I do my very best each day. <br />
But I'm not perfect, and you know, <br />
I like it that way.<br />
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<strong>I love that. We try to make our kids perfect, <em>whatever that even means,</em> and they're just not. They make mistakes, they spill things, they forget their math homework, and they hide candy under their beds. They will never be <em>perfect</em> children. When we teach them that anything less than perfection is failure, we set them up for disapointment -- they can't win! Neither could we. </strong><br />
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After listening to that song in the car, Ellie informs me: "But Mommy, I'm perfect!" <br />
"Well, baby, you are amazing, but you make mistakes, don't you?"<br />
"Yes, but not big mistakes."<br />
"Well, making a little mistake, even just sometimes, means you are not perfect. Nobody is."<br />
"I am perfect."<br />
"Ellie, I love you and you are the best kid ever, but sweetie, no, you're not perfect. Neither is Mommy."<br />
Pouting now, "But I <em>wanted</em> to be perfect!"<br />
"Well, that's why we try very hard to do the right things. But only God is perfect." <br />
"Oh yeah. And Jesus."<br />
"Right."<br />
"But Jesus isn't real."<br />
"Sure he's real." <br />
"I mean we can't see him."<br />
"Right."<br />
"I can help people."<br />
"That's true. You are a great helper."<br />
"When you say, 'Ellie, can you do something for me?' I will say 'Yes ma'am!'"<br />
"Wonderful!"<br />
"So, I'm perfect, Mommy."<br />
"Oh, just eat your granola bar."<br />
"Yes, ma'am."<br />
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<strong>The last verse of the song continues:</strong><br />
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You're not perfect; no, you're not.<br />
You're not perfect, but you got what you got.<br />
You do your very best. You do your very best.<br />
You do your very best each day.<br />
But you're not perfect, and you know, <br />
I love you that way.Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-30008511472359264182011-09-02T11:08:00.000-05:002011-09-02T11:08:25.289-05:00Letter to My LegislatorsRepresentative Nowlin and Senator Long, <br />
<br />
I am writing to seek your advice about a critical need for families with disabled children in Louisiana. <br />
<br />
Recently, my twin boys, both born with spina bifida, the most common permanently disabling birth defect, were denied LA Medicaid coverage. Although we are participating in the appeal process, this letter is not about my family as much as it is about other families in the same situation. <br />
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My husband and I are both working people with good, stable jobs, despite the current economic uncertainty in our state. We clearly do not qualify for the standard healthcare coverage through LA Medicaid for children, since that is a need-based program. However, for one year, we did qualify for a supplemental plan for families of children with disabilities with higher incomes, called the Family Opportunity Act. Typically, this is a buy-in program with a small monthly premium. <br />
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When we learned we were being denied this coverage for the upcoming year, I was disappointed but not surprised. Even supplementary LA Medicaid has a maximum allowed income for the family, even a family with disabled children. This came as a shock to our friends and family all over the state. Everyone we talked to had always just assumed kids with a permanent disability automatically qualified for some form of LA Medicaid. I decided that even if our family never receives these benefits, I needed to speak up for other families with the same desperate need for help with medical costs relating to their child's medical disability. <br />
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First, let me assure you that the last thing on our minds is a handout from the government. What I am referring to is a need for assistance due to a child's devastating medical condition. Many of these children (like our own) were disabled from birth, so they would never qualify for private supplemental insurance due to a pre-existing condition. And I also know that over half of the children in Louisiana have some sort of Medicaid coverage, which is a high percentage and is incredibly expensive for our state. <br />
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Some other states offer automatic Medicaid qualification for disabled children (at least as a supplement to private insurance), and I'm sure this is partly because their populations are not as needy as Louisiana families. The message that we are getting from the Medicaid program is "You would be better off to just quit working and get full Medicaid coverage for your kids." This can't possibly be the kind of message we need to be sending to families in Louisiana. <br />
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What I am asking is that we recognize families like ours, who, although they have adequate income, are desperately trying to cover co-payments for visits to multiple medical specialists, expensive medical equipment denied by private insurance (like wheelchairs and other assistive devices), high co-payments for daily prescription medications, co-payments for lifetime weekly physical therapy sessions, co-payments for recurring medical needs like catheters and nebulizer supplies, and the list goes on and on. They are faced with the decision no parent ever wants to make -- whether or not they can afford to give their children the medical care the doctors say they greatly need.<br />
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I know writing a new bill is a long process and might not appear to be fiscally responsible, considering the costs involved with insuring even more families in the state, but this is an ethical issue that I feel must be considered. In the words of Hubert Humphrey, ". . . the moral test of government is how that government treats those who are in the dawn of life, the children; those who are in the twilight of life, the elderly; those who are in the shadows of life; the sick, the needy and the handicapped.” <br />
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I would welcome any advice you can offer about how I should proceed, because I will certainly keep persevering to shed light on this critical issue. Thank you for taking the time to consider my cry for help on behalf of all the disabled children in Louisiana and their families.<br />
<br />
Sincerely, <br />
Mariann Wilson<br />
<br />
<br />
Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-49852195840548381992011-08-26T10:55:00.000-05:002011-08-26T10:55:04.664-05:00Firsts, Part Deux, The Sequel<strong>I posted about the many firsts my kids had accomlished a while back, but I think it's time for part deux. All three are back to school -- one in pre-K and two back in their wonderful early intervention class. So, let's start the show, folks: </strong><br />
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1. Words: Woody told me something was "disgusting" the other day. Ellie told me I didn't know what a "title" of a book was. Woody and Jack also invent words. Today at the doctor, he called a sink "washer hands." He said, "Bye-Bye, Washer Hands" after he was finished at the sink. Jack calls an umbrella "rainin." Looking in a book at a picture of U for Umbrella: "That's a rainin." <br />
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2. Jack is four-point crawling! He has been commando/army crawling/scooting for quite a while, but instead of just rocking or balancing in a four point stance, he is now moving those little knees and going places. You can see how much concentration it takes when you look into his face -- every movement is intentional and takes such focus. But he's getting faster and stronger every day! <br />
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3. Ellie Marie, my sweet girl is enjoying her new school very much. She has to walk from the car to the hallway of her school all by herself in the morning . She was a little nervous about that at first, but is an old pro now. All she's shared about school is that she gets chocolate milk, there is a play kitchen, and they "drag" the letters of the alphabet (not sure about that one). Oh, and if the kids get too loud, her teacher places her hands on top of her head to let them know to quiet down. Cute. <br />
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4. Wheelchair skills: Jack managed to get himself out of his classroom, down a short hall, and into another classroom in order to watch Barney during pick up time at school the other day! His teacher was so proud but let him know he has to have permission to leave the room -- imagine that! We've come a long way, baby. <br />
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Wish I had pictures to share, but even if I could find the camera, I don't think I'd have time to use it! <br />
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Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-87666152178256652342011-07-08T13:32:00.000-05:002011-07-08T13:32:25.830-05:00Little SneakWoody has decided he can army crawl and roll around well enough to get into some trouble, and this seems to be the biggest motivator yet for my little guy to get moving.<br />
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I found him a little while ago after I had left the room to switch over the laundry. I knew it was oddly quiet! Woody was hiding and eating candy he had dumped from a water bottle:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gSwkWq0uNE0/ThdLMAfsK2I/AAAAAAAAAKs/0XBBktklCC8/s1600/Summer+2011+035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" m$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gSwkWq0uNE0/ThdLMAfsK2I/AAAAAAAAAKs/0XBBktklCC8/s320/Summer+2011+035.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
<div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">It's so exciting to know he can get away, hide, and be sneaky. I am very thankful to have this sneaky little boy! </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q481MK3ROgQ/ThdNF_l9eaI/AAAAAAAAAK0/f6UEKfEqnS8/s1600/Summer+2011+034rotated.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" m$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q481MK3ROgQ/ThdNF_l9eaI/AAAAAAAAAK0/f6UEKfEqnS8/s320/Summer+2011+034rotated.jpg" width="317px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-64740763483305847482011-07-05T13:03:00.000-05:002011-07-05T13:03:25.065-05:00Itty Bitty VacationThe Perkins family reunion gave us a good reason to get away for the long 4th of July weekend. We stayed with Maw Maw Judy and Paw Paw "Randis" (Woody kept mixing his paw paws -- Randy + Travis= Randis)! <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Our first big adventure was taking the new bridge in New Roads for the first time. People have always traveled by ferry to cross the Mississippi River from Point Coupee Parish to East Feliciana Parish, and now that there is a bridge, we have a more straight shot over to my mom's house, which saves us about 45 minutes of driving (at least). Strangely enough, there were no signs, and it took us a while to find the dang bridge. At the gas station, we asked which way to turn for the bridge, and the young lady asked, "Which bridge?" What bridge?! Are you kidding? Once we saw it, we wondered how anyone from this town could ask that! The John James Audubon Bridge is the longest cable-stayed bridge in the Western Hemisphere according to the website: "Each cable stay is anchored to a 500-foot tower, which provides support to the bridge deck. Each stay contains 20 to 69 individual cables for a total of 4,548 cables." It cost over 400 million dollars to build. And it's sitting out beyond a bunch of sugar cane fields in the middle of nowhere! It was very impressive! </div><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Our fun also included a quick trip to Hammond to the Children's Discovery Center, a children's museum! Favorites: Jack loved the big bubble room. Woody was very interested in the ambulance/EMT spot. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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Ellie adored the Middendorf's restaurant exhibit where she took our orders and brought us something completely different! We did a simulated hot air balloon ride and laughed hard at Chris and Aunt Nene almost getting stuck in the slide trying to help the boys get a turn :) </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Another fun trip was to the Aquarium of the Americas in New Orleans after church on Sunday, although we went through a terrible storm getting there -- hail and a very loud downpour. But once we got there, the kids were amazed! Ellie called the parking garage a "car cave" and the winding ramp a "car slide." I have some serious small-town kids. The see-through elevator in Canal Place that seemed to land us in a fountain was exciting, too. Mom and I joked that all we needed to do was go to the parking garage to entertain my silly kids. Favorites at the aquarium: Ellie was tickled at the hammerhead sharks ans the stingrays. Jack loved the penguins! But he calls them "pen-goyns", which is too cute. Woody is not our animal lover, but he did seem amazed by the BIG fish in the Gulf of Mexico exhibit -- sharks, sea turtles, and enormous tarpon! But the highlight was when Jack attempted to hold the feeding stick in the Parakeet exhibit and the little bird nipped his finger. He stayed pretty calm. . . . and then knocked the bird right off that stick! Don't mess with Jack, parakeets! </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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On the 4th, we headed to the country to have the family reunion. There was a good turn-out, so we were able to visit with our favorite cousins and a few relatives several times removed . . . especially from my memory. We ate goat. Yep. Goat. Chewy. Anyway, all sorts of garden vegetables like butter beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, and sweet corn, tons of desserts, and homemade ice cream, too. It was exactly what a family reunion in July in Louisiana ought to be, I guess: HOT. An afternoon shower helped out a little bit. We watched as the big group of people fishing down the hill at the pond came running toward the house! <br />
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I'd say this was a fun little escape and a great way to spend the 4th, enjoying all things America. And we discovered that 2 of our 3 kids are entertainers to the core -- making people laugh by singing, laughing, dancing, and being comedians. They were a riot. And Woody, the non-entertainer, is a flirt who loves to cuddle and spend time with people one-on-one. He can win your heart in his own way :) <br />
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Real pictures on "The Facebook" as soon as Nene posts them (I took almost none, sadly.)Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-64771717166387775732011-06-27T19:50:00.002-05:002011-06-27T20:44:55.606-05:00Yes or NoAt church during Vacation Bible School a couple weeks ago, I taught the kids a lesson during which they had to respond to several yes/no questions. The twist was they had to answer in a language other than English: oui, non, da, nyet, si, no, jah, nein. It was pretty entertaining. We sounded like a meeting of the United Nations, which was appropriate, since the theme of the week was New York City.<br />
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Well, that started me thinking about how often I have to say yes or no every day at home: No, you can't have candy for breakfast; Yes, you have to brush your teeth; Yes, flamingos stand on one leg quite often; <em>No, you may not lick the toilet</em> (sadly these are all actual statements overheard in my house this week). <br />
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<strong>Chris and I sometimes get so exhausted it seems like all we ever say is "no."</strong> I catch myself saying it almost out of habit, and then I stop and ask "Why not?" Is there really cause to answer with a no on this issue, or am I just tired of making decisions and cleaning up messes? Can I paint, Mommy? (Why not?) Can we have lunch on the floor in the living room like a picnic? (Why not?) Can we stay in our pjs and watch a movie this morning? (Why not?) Can we have peanut butter and sprinkles on our pancakes? (Why not?) Can I help you make the cornbread? (Why not?) Can we have a playdate tomorrow with _____ ? (Why not?)<br />
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Some people call it picking your battles, and I guess that's basically the idea. I don't want to be the "No Mom". Being a "Yes Parent" who reserves her no's for when there's a solid reason seems much more furry and cuddly, right? Is it going to hurt someone, make someone sick, show disrepect to someone, destroy something, annoy someone, or start a very bad habit? If yes, then the answer is "no." If not, then why not? <br />
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Same goes for grown-up stuff too -- why say no to something new or something that might be fun just because it might require a little extra effort on my part or it might mess with my routine a little bit? Usually, I'm glad later that I didn't dismiss the idea and just went for it instead. Why not stay an extra day, try something different on the menu, take the scenic detour, or meet back up later? Even those numerous trips, tasks, or chores that I simply don't want to do but are important to someone else and might bring them happiness -- why not? <br />
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<strong>But there is also the important art of when to own my "No".</strong> <br />
I frequently find myself saying yes to ideas, projects, and tasks without giving them much thought at all, and then I am completely worn out from all that yes action. Is the goal something that is helpful to my family or to someone else? Is the outcome worth my time and energy? Will it be memorable or forgettable? If nobody really cares and it's just something on a guilt-soaked mental to-do list that will only drain me of energy and put me in a bad mood -- no. <br />
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<strong>I'm a work in progess, but I am close to mastering three skills involving yes and no: </strong><br />
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1. If something will make my kids happy, help them learn something meaningful, or make memories, and there is no real reason to say no, I try to say yes. <em>I sometimes still struggle with getting my butt in gear, though.</em><br />
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2. I try not to apologize or make excuses for my no's; I just say no. I'd rather be given the options and decide for myself if a or b is beneficial enough for our time. Then I can give an honest yes or no, without all the animal dung that we usually attach to our responses. <br />
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3. I try to accept "no" as a perfectly appropriate response from other people. Do they really need a reason other than they just don't want to if the choice in question is not that important? Nope. <br />
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I guess writing a blog somehow landed on the yes list -- Oui, Da, Si, Jah!Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-8793988426816745362011-06-01T09:18:00.004-05:002011-06-01T09:25:17.558-05:00Four Years have Flown<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>My sweet Ellie Marie turned 4 yesterday!</strong></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O7hK6-Bzxdw/TeZLpvwjssI/AAAAAAAAAKo/xlTizEUGF24/s1600/May2011+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O7hK6-Bzxdw/TeZLpvwjssI/AAAAAAAAAKo/xlTizEUGF24/s320/May2011+027.jpg" t8="true" width="245px" /></a></div><br />
She isn't a baby any more :( Here she is at 2 trying to perform, despite a familiar soundtrack in the background (her baby brothers). This is one of the things I love the most about my Ellie -- she finds a way to blossom in our craziness!<br />
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I would say that Ellie is:<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">E</span>ntertaining ~ We get to see the "Ellie Show" live every night. Lately, she gets behind a curtain and I must properly introduce her: "Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Children of All Ages -- Now Introducing the Amazing, the Talented, the Beautiful . . . Ellie Marie Wilson -- Walking Like a Dog and Blowing a Whistle!" Here's the hula girl in action: </div><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">L</span>oving~ She wants everyone to be happy, so she tries very hard to keep the peace. It hurts her feelings if the boys get into trouble or if Mama isn't feeling well. She'll whisper "Boys, don't be loud; Mommy has a headache!"</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">L</span>ike Her Mama ~ She enjoys snuggling in and watching TV, reading a good book, having long conversations, and eating yummy food like fruits, veggies, chocolate, and cookies! She isn't too interested in hairbows or fancy clothes -- comfort is key. Poor thing even looks like me :)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: x-large;">I</span>nquisitive ~ My girl loves books, playing learning games on the computer, and going to school. She asks questions about the river, the train, the birds, the flowers, the groceries we buy, and . . . air pollution? Thanks, "Sid the Science Kid." <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">E</span>asy-Going ~ Ellie Marie is a happy and easy-to-please little girl. She gets excited about anything new and will pretty much go along with whatever her Daddy or her teachers come up with. She is a good listener and rarely gets into trouble, since she is kind and pretty willing to go with the flow. Flexibility is highly valuable in our home, as you can imagine. Here she is trying out her big and exciting birthday present -- The Extreme Coaster! <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Happy Birthday, Ellie Marie! You will always be my baby girl :)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-57337522241207196452011-05-15T22:33:00.001-05:002011-05-16T13:10:30.886-05:00The Three Seasons<div style="text-align: left;"><strong>In our home, we have three seasons: School, Christmas, and Summer. </strong></div><strong><br />
</strong>Switching gears for a change in the <em>season</em> is always hard on little folks. They thrive in a routine and resist any change to that routine; it takes time for them to settle in. Nevertheless, here we go again because Summer is upon us. Ellie and I are both finished for the year, and the boys have four more days left in school.<br />
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<strong>Summertime is something I love and dread quite equally. </strong><br />
I am going to be teaching two online courses, since I can't seem to do one job at a time. But being a mostly stay-at-home mommy is job number one. The love part comes with all the extra time I get with the kids -- playing, being silly, and cuddling. The dread part comes in when I consider that it is very hard work to keep the children busy and happy at home, since they are accustomed to having lots of different playmates and plenty of changes in scenery during the school year. To the boys, mommy is SO boring compared to having three teachers, two therapists, and eight playmates around at school. To Ellie, she just wants to GO . . . anywhere, anytime. Staying home is nice to Ellie, but not nearly as nice as checking out what everyone else is up to. <em>Oh, and the heat -- my God the heat!</em><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><strong>I keep asking myself, "How am I going to do this all summer?" </strong></div><br />
<strong>Plan of Attack</strong><br />
The plan to keep everyone active and content even in what is sure to be another long, hot Louisiana summer includes: three weeks of summer school for the boys to keep up their wheelchair skills, swimming in a big pool once a week, physical therapy twice a week for the boys, storytime at the library, arts and crafts, perhaps a playgroup once a week, swimming lessons for Ellie, and Bible school. Throw in five or six doctors' appointments already on the calendar, and it will be August before we know it and time to head back to school. <br />
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<strong>The Challenge</strong><br />
The challenging part is that the boys aren't quite able to get around on their own yet. They haven't mastered crawling or using their wheelchairs enough to go get what they want or to find something to do on their own. This leads, inevitably, to endless commands being hurled at me or Ellie: "Mommy, I firetruck. Ellie, I ball. NO! I<em> that</em> ball!" They also have two favorite activities that keep the house a mess and keep me on my toes: putting any and everything in their mouths, and throwing anything they get in their hands across the room. It's a little game to see how many items they can throw and how far they can throw them. Great fun for them; a huge pain for moi. They are also textbook two-year-olds: they pull hair, bite, knock heads, and have meltdowns over which cup you hand them or which way you turn to go to Walmart. Joy.<br />
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<strong>Secret Weapons</strong><br />
We have a few tricks up our sleeves, though. First, I am embarking on a three-day total home reorganization with Ellie as my assistant -- toy and art supply storage, diapering and physical therapy supplies, outdoor set-up including the little pools and outdoor toys, and summer clothes storage. I'm hoping we can set the stage for an easy transition with easy access to all things summer. <br />
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Also, in just a few weeks, Ellie is getting a very exciting present for her 4th birthday: <em>a rollercoaster</em>! It resides in three large boxes in my foyer right now, and she knows her present is in there, but she doesn't yet know what it is. Unlike a trampoline, a swingset, or a playhouse, all my kids can use this big toy. It will involve a lot of screams of "again" and me lifting 35 pound boys over and over, but I'm hoping it will be worth it to see their excitement. Here's what it will look like: <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-52EO-Rfz_YU/TdCUKImjDxI/AAAAAAAAAKg/VahtRw073CY/s1600/extreme-coaster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201px" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-52EO-Rfz_YU/TdCUKImjDxI/AAAAAAAAAKg/VahtRw073CY/s320/extreme-coaster.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div align="left"><strong>Do you have any other ideas for summer sanity? </strong></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-43224213461508627412011-04-29T11:12:00.000-05:002011-04-29T11:12:26.110-05:00How Ellie PlaysI have an almost four-year-old on my hands! Ellie Marie is a sweet and thoughtful big sister who loves to use her imagination. Sometimes her methods of play (like most kids' her age) are mysterious and funny to boring old grown-ups. Today, the three little ones played together so well -- no fighting, fussing, or meltdowns -- for almost 2 hours! I checked in, but mostly stayed out the way and let them explore and play. This was 100% due to my needing to finish up some last minute end-of-semester grading. Here's just a little taste.<br />
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(For those who claim I seem to only post blogs about my happy, clean, and perfect homelife, be careful what you wish for!)<br />
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<strong>Why does a pig in a bathtub need to be on a piece of newspaper? Sounds like a riddle, but no; it's a real question:</strong><br />
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<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nJlwpk4xP0Q/TbresgRItgI/AAAAAAAAAKE/26wt5z4XM40/s1600/Apr2011+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nJlwpk4xP0Q/TbresgRItgI/AAAAAAAAAKE/26wt5z4XM40/s320/Apr2011+008.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong>A lot of Ellie's playing involves putting toys, animals, and dolls to bed. Here, we have the classic create a bed for a doggie. She has a toy cradle in her room and plenty of dolls to put to sleep in it. But, I can see why she would prefer to put one of the boys' toys to bed on a impromptu bed, can't you? </strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-syeZiMKYhv0/Tbre2lvL0FI/AAAAAAAAAKI/UZEhdn3aSqk/s1600/Apr2011+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-syeZiMKYhv0/Tbre2lvL0FI/AAAAAAAAAKI/UZEhdn3aSqk/s320/Apr2011+009.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong>Another popular and time-consuming playtime activity for Ellie is stacking and piling things. Anything, really. Today, it's 1. books on a chair 2. two beds' worth of bedding, a couple of yoga mats, and a few pieces of the floor mat all piled on top of her brothers.</strong></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xClxYj9cQqs/TbrfAlbOkZI/AAAAAAAAAKM/WXs4s4W2VVs/s1600/Apr2011+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xClxYj9cQqs/TbrfAlbOkZI/AAAAAAAAAKM/WXs4s4W2VVs/s320/Apr2011+012.jpg" width="320px" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-drlUow15TFw/TbrihB7bDhI/AAAAAAAAAKU/qUi_sZhleGU/s1600/Apr2011+007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-drlUow15TFw/TbrihB7bDhI/AAAAAAAAAKU/qUi_sZhleGU/s320/Apr2011+007.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-glHwY1MxW58/TbreeRUP9NI/AAAAAAAAAKA/uo3EnblBjeU/s1600/Apr2011+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-glHwY1MxW58/TbreeRUP9NI/AAAAAAAAAKA/uo3EnblBjeU/s320/Apr2011+006.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong>The aftermath of a couple of hours without complete supervision. Oh, the joys of parenting. But, I'll miss this one day, or at least that's what I've heard :)</strong></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OFA7NHBpipc/TbrfLA-BeJI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/4LGqBfwwlOo/s1600/Apr2011+013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OFA7NHBpipc/TbrfLA-BeJI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/4LGqBfwwlOo/s320/Apr2011+013.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-70211967204466764032011-04-28T19:55:00.004-05:002011-04-28T23:07:37.812-05:00Every Six Months (lengthy post)<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oz3hf5CzX9k/Tbn9Sbib2SI/AAAAAAAAAJs/d-d8QI13DlE/s1600/Apr2011+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oz3hf5CzX9k/Tbn9Sbib2SI/AAAAAAAAAJs/d-d8QI13DlE/s320/Apr2011+002.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Every six months, Jack and Woody visit Shriners' Hospital for the Spina Bifida Clinic. It's a day-long ordeal that is always somewhat bittersweet. We receive tons of information -- much more than we can process. And we get to see spina bifida displayed right in front of us, at all ages and all levels of ability. It can be overwhelming, encouraging, terrifying, and enlightening all at the same time. Here's a peek into our day at clinic.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>The Sweet</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The sweetest part of clinic is connecting with other SB families. I can't really explain how great it is to talk to someone about all the stuff that our SB kids deal with and discover that they know exactly what I'm talking about -- 'cause they've been there, are there now, or will be there. This week's clinic was especially sweet because I was able finally to meet the "other twins" we have heard about since before the boys were born. The girls are 7-year-old identical twins, and they are simply amazing. They are beautiful, energetic, bright, precocious little girls who will steal your heart in 3 seconds flat. Both of the girls were born with spina bifida . . . and both of the girls ran, jumped, and explored all over the hospital, mostly without their braces! They are rockstars :) Their dad was super, and we exchanged e-mails. I am beyond happy that we finally got to meet these two sweethearts.</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>We also got to meet a few teenagers this time, and well, let's just say they inspired me to dig deep and decide every day to be positive, so the boys will have a shot at being confident and completely comfortable with who they are. I want them to feel blessed. (Because they are.)</strong></div><br />
<u>Exhibit A:</u> a young teenager who walks independently most of the time, and you'd probably never know she has a medical disability. But she is very down on herself, frightened by social interaction, and just insecure all around. We bonded a bit because she is a big-time reader. Always something new on her Kindle. She is beautiful, intelligent, and very sweet. In her mind, though, she's just different, weird, and gross. By the way, I got to talk with her for a little while, and I started sounding like a motivational speaker. I told her that she might think everyone is focused on her difficulties with walking and with bathroom stuff, but 95% of that is just in her head. And even if people do notice her differences, that doesn't mean they couldn't be great friends and a lot of fun to hang out with. She smiled a lot and said she is scared to go to high school next year. I'll be praying for her. <br />
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<u>Exhibit B:</u> a sixteen-year-old girl who rolled up in her wheelchair to meet the boys. She has a big smile on her beautiful rosy face and thinks the boys are adorable (because they are . . duh!). She strikes up a conversation and says she travels from Oklahoma to come to Shriners. She's been coming since she was two and thinks of the staff as her second family. She cracks jokes, asks about me, and tells me she forced her best friend to tag along with her on the trip. Her friend teases her and they both ooh and ahh over the boys for a while. She seems to have probably never walked much, if at all; she is bubbly and very social. Since she comes off as very comfortable with who she is, her positive attitude is contagious. I wish I was sixteen again so I could be invited to her parties and we could hang out :)<br />
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<strong>The Bitter</strong><br />
(Warning: mega medical mumbo jumbo ahead). <br />
At clinic, we find out how the boys are progressing and some goals we can work toward during the next six months. And a few bits of news that can sometimes be difficult to hear. The breakdown usually includes Neuro, Uro, and Ortho at our clinic, but this time we did not meet with our neurosurgeon. We'll see him in June at his regular office. Here's the dealio:<br />
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<u>Urology:</u> Yes, lovely urology. For those who aren't familiar with how SB affects this system, I'll give it to you as simply as I can (because I only have a basic understanding of it myself so far). The boys do not have full (or possibly any) control over their bladders and bowels. Also, because they don't have the right nerve impulses to empty the bladder completely, they have urinary reflux (some urine backs up toward the kidneys). Therefore, we have to keep a good eye on their kidney health. Urinary tract infections are common for these kids, but our boys have STILL not had any, so yay yay yay for that. Most people probably have no idea how big of a deal this is.<br />
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At this clinic we were told that we need to start using a catheter about once a week to check the amout of urine that is hanging out in the bladder after the boys wet their diapers. We will measure it and document that for our next clinic. At that point we will also do another urodynamics study (a video x-ray of the urinary system at work, using fluids and catheters) to determine the pressure of the bladder/kidney relationship and the exact amount of reflux they have. If they have any infections, if they have too large an amount of residual urine, or if their reflux has worsened by then, we will begin catheterizing several times a day to help the bladder empty completely and keep the kidneys healthy. This is the news I knew was coming eventually, but it seems we have been given another reprieve from cathing daily, for at least six more months. Cathing keeps the kidneys healthy and can have a very positive effect on health later in life, but to be honest, the word almost paralyzes me with fear and dread. It's a huge time-consuming inconvenience involving icky medical processes I don't feel qualified to perform (and it will be times two). At least I have a little more time to get used to the idea. And I will; I know I will. <br />
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<u>Orthopedics:</u> An x-ray showed that Woody has one hip out of socket. The doctor came in with this cautious look on his face like he was expecting me to burst into tears over the news, but thank you, thank you, thank you, BabyCenter Spina Bifida Kids board! I already knew that this was relatively common with SB kids and isn't exactly as devastating as it sounds. First, it doesn't hurt him, at least for now. Second, although having one hip out and one hip in is obviously not ideal, he will not have surgery right now (or possibly ever) to put it back in. If it gives him heck later when he's trying to stand and walk, we may have to go down that road. For now, since lack of muscle tone caused it to slip out, even if they put it back, it could slip out again unless he gets much stronger. So, we don't do anything. Weird, right?<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Our physical therapy goals for next clinic are to increase the boys' upper body strength and increase the time they spend in their stander (a device that hold them up in a standing position so their legs can bear weight, grow, and develop correctly). Here's what theirs looks like:</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MCQc_BtamFA/TboEm9p7viI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/QbguO4TkQjA/s1600/stander.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MCQc_BtamFA/TboEm9p7viI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/QbguO4TkQjA/s1600/stander.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">They were molded for larger AFOs (Ankle-Foot Orthotic) this clinic, also. Their "boots" will be a little taller (to just a little below the knee) and offer more support. They will look a little like these, probably, but an alligator design (Jack) and a cars and trucks design (Woody):</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pFvNRHvNpUw/TboMlTINbXI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/b0LpUBL7pDU/s1600/AFOs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pFvNRHvNpUw/TboMlTINbXI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/b0LpUBL7pDU/s1600/AFOs.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">If they are able to hold up their weight on straight arms, we could be ready to try RGO (Recipricating Gait Orthosis), which is a mega-brace that helps the boys, well, to stand and eventually practice walking using parallel bars or a walker for support! Here's what that will look like: </div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Lo5kUt9kNHE/TboD7ePIQbI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/wRrpoNJUBNw/s1600/red-rgo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Lo5kUt9kNHE/TboD7ePIQbI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/wRrpoNJUBNw/s1600/red-rgo.jpg" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">This would be a long (maybe years long) process that starts with 2 weeks in-patient to help us all learn the skills for using the equipment correctly. Also, they mentioned twister cables (so mechanical, right?), which I have yet to read up on, but I have heard of them. Exciting? yes. Terrifying? yes. <br />
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Overall, the bitter and the sweet made for a busy day, especially considering my sweet boys were just getting over being so sick it landed Jack in the hospital for five days with pneumonia. But Maw Maw Judy was there to help and to offer candy bribes whenever needed, so we all made it home in one piece. My guys are tough, and when I'm not, at least I know tomorrow's a brand new day. <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzYWl8xXUao/Tbn9iSeT8xI/AAAAAAAAAJw/gbBqIFlyVU4/s1600/Apr2011+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZzYWl8xXUao/Tbn9iSeT8xI/AAAAAAAAAJw/gbBqIFlyVU4/s320/Apr2011+003.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-48007865875050189902011-03-23T10:35:00.005-05:002011-03-23T11:07:03.468-05:00We think we know, but . . .<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>we have no idea. </strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I have made a lot of friends online who share a very specific life experience with us -- the day we found out our kids would have the permanent disability called spina bifida. Most of us heard the news while pregnant and sitting in a doctor's office after a high-resolution ultrasound. Our stories all have different details, but the overwhelming majority were given the option to terminate. Don't worry; this isn't a rant about that, but oh boy, could I go there. My boys had SB before we had even named them: baby A and baby B were going to face some pretty enormous difficulties in life, and at that time, we didn't know exactly what those would be.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">That day, our doctor made one specific argument for termination that has always bugged me, and honestly, it still does: "Think about what you will be doing to your little girl if you have these babies." Ellie Marie was about 18 months old when we received the boys' diagnosis. She would be 22 months old when they were born. This was the first day we had heard this heart-wrenching news and he had the nerve to tell me to think about Ellie? He had never met Ellie! He didn't know me. He had no idea what kind of family we were. Did he think I hadn't considered that having two physically challenged brothers might make Ellie's life a little tougher? </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Of course, we knew that Ellie would be fine -- she has always been a trooper and honestly, it didn't matter. We didn't have a choice to make; God had already made it when he gave us the boys (it was done deal already; seemed crazy to me that this doctor thought we had a say so). But I guess I still think about what the doctor said and wonder what Ellie thinks about our family and all the craziness that is our life. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>This brings me to the story I sat down to write today:</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>I was a little sad when we found out Ellie had to get glasses at 3 years old; I'm not sure why, but it was probably about not wanting to cover up her sweet little face. I worried about her not adjusting well to them or getting teased when she got older. Well, turns out she doesn't mind them at all. We also get to go up to Shreveport every 2 months for an ophthalmology<strong> </strong>check-up since she is using an eye patch to strengthen her weak eye. She used to hate doctors but doesn't mind this one (no shots). PLUS, I was thinking that this gave her a mommy day without her brothers; they were usually the ones I had to take to Shreveport while she was in school, since ALL our docs are there. <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I was very excited that this past visit was early enough for us to play around in town afterwards -- just Ellie and me! And boy, did we! We shopped, we rode the trolley and the carousel, we played at the playground and ate popcorn shrimp at Joe's Crab Shack -- and she even had a sip or two of Coke (big deal when someone other than a grandparent lets her do that!). I sat there at lunch thinking she must think it is such a relief not to wait around for us to load wheelchairs, change diapers, fill sippy cups, help the boys slide, stop them from eating the rocks, and all that stuff. Instead, she looked up from her bucket 'o shrimp and exclaimed, "Mommy, we need to come back here, but we need to bring the boys next time! They would really like that trolley, and they could watch me climb on the playground. They like doing that. And you and Daddy could hold them on the horsies at the carousel, too!"</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I'm such an idiot. That girl missed her brothers. She is not just alright with them being in her life; she's blessed. She's not even 4 yet, and she gets it. She knows that when you love someone, you don't mind the inconveniences that come along with the deal. You still miss them when they're not here. I'm so thankful that our boys are here. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-BqFY9qTwQu4/TYoU0kEQOnI/AAAAAAAAAJk/6V9GPnh9w4U/s1600/Mar2011+156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-BqFY9qTwQu4/TYoU0kEQOnI/AAAAAAAAAJk/6V9GPnh9w4U/s320/Mar2011+156.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong>And that doctor doesn't know jack. Or Woody. Or Ellie.</strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-YXl4KDizvUw/TYoVLr_lkMI/AAAAAAAAAJo/IzJuL2To4hU/s1600/feb212011+039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-YXl4KDizvUw/TYoVLr_lkMI/AAAAAAAAAJo/IzJuL2To4hU/s320/feb212011+039.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2507094372817745750.post-5514958130852836742011-03-21T17:35:00.001-05:002011-03-21T17:37:07.596-05:00God Bless ElmoI am thankful for a lot of things: love, life, health, forgiveness, my home, my family, my job, joy, peace -- all that stuff. <br />
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<strong>and ELMO. </strong><br />
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I could kiss that little red muppet. I want to shout it from the rooftops: "God Bless You, Elmo!" <br />
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"Elmo's World" aires for the last 20 minutes of <u>Sesame Street</u>, and for about 20 minutes, all three of my little ones will sit nicely and watch educational TV. Lately, my two-year-old boys will bite, hit, and pull hair if they are within arm's reach of one another (or not, in Jack's case, as he's rolling and scooting all over the place now). And there aren't too many things that 2 year-olds and an almost 4 year-old have in common. And then there was Elmo recorded on the DVR and ready for quick access.<br />
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We reserve Elmo for those emergenecy times when we can't have our eyes directly on the kids for whatever reason, or maybe I just need a few minutes to do A, B, or C without the disruption of fighting, whining, or unexpected messes. And yes; almost every day there is an appropriate occasion for the use of Elmo -- oh who am I kidding: every day. <br />
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<strong>You have come to my rescue and salvaged what was left of my sanity on many an afternoon, Elmo, and today, I salute you. </strong><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Py2f38iPBeI?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Mariannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00344095732920315761noreply@blogger.com1