Why Not?

"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!"

But in those it's-really-not-such-a big-deal cases, I try to ask, "Why Not?"

Why not play in the dirt?

Why not dress up as Hollywood Horse, Boy Princess, and Flying Cat?

Why not go to the dollar movie to see Elmo? Well, I could think of a few reasons; still . . .

Why not have a tea party lunch?

And finally, why not play in the rain?

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. So, I'm trying to carpe the heck out of this stinkin' diem. 

Happy Summer :)

Anna, the Ladybug

Ellie has a pet. 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.

What else do you do when you need to know how to care for your new pet? We googled it. 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.

Anna enjoying her apple slice. 

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.

Anna playing "How do I get out of here", her favorite pastime. 

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 bites it moves to the ladybug farm in the sky.

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.



So, here is a video of our adorable little pet, Anna (sigh):

I blinked.

That's it. I must have blinked. 
How is it that my Ellie is turning 5 in just two days? 


I guess I'd better write some things down before I blink again and she's in college :) 

First things first: we have a new baby in the family! 
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! 


Babies on the Brain: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 Milo and Otis with their dad last night may have confused helped that learning curve along, since both a cat AND a dog give birth in that movie -- who knew? 

Welcome to the World, Brenyn! 

With a Little Help

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.


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.

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 normally? 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?

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.


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. Which one do you like?

1. We might have to plan, adapt, and be patient, but we must play, live, go, be, and do out in the community.

2. We all deserve access, privacy, and independence, even in a wheelchair.

3. Nobody ever said life would be easy, but we choose joy.

4. Some people are alone in their struggles. We are blessed; we have each other.

5. Yes, we can do it. We might do it a little differently, but we can do it.

(With a little help)

The Bright Side

I have started writing several blog posts recently, well, in my head anyway.

1. The adventure of cousins coming for a sleepover during Thanksgiving break.
2. Our latest Shriner's visit and all the medical updates on the boys.
3. The fun-filled and jam-packed Christmas holidays.
4. A year in review post highlighting all the exciting happenings in 2011.
5. The whirlwind girls only trip to New Orleans with Ellie.

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.

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 stiff drink nap.

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.

I am thankful for:

Jack learning to say "I missed you, Mommy!"
Ellie getting so excited about having slippers.
Woody pretending there's a smiling goldfish swimming in his cup of water.
Chris reading a book I just finished, and me wanting so badly to talk about it but having to wait.
How much my mom loves all things Louisiana and wants all of us to love it, too.
My sister's tendency to always stay positive and energetic, even when she might not feel like it.
Carlos's ability to eat everything on his plate and my red beans and rice, too. He's a beast.
My sweet in-laws' willingness to spend time with my kids when I know it's not always convenient.
My pediatrician working us in for asthma issues on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.
My friends at church who remind me I am not alone in my lamenting.
The extended families we love so much -- all very unique and equally goofy.
Lifelong friends who know me so well, even if we haven't spoken in months.
Leading a discussion about literature, and the room has an atmosphere of curiosity and anticipation.
Stepping on toys barefoot in the dark and trying not to introduce potty words to the little ones.
A friend giving us extra groceries even though she's facing a tough time herself.
Friends and even friends of friends offering to help us if we feel overwhelmed.
Jack telling me eating vegetables is stinky.
Ellie being sad when we are out of broccoli for a snack.
Woody continuing to say Merry Christmas to everyone he sees even though it's nearly February.
A husband who gets the boys changed and dressed before I'm even out of bed in the morning.
The teachers who are so patient when they are outnumbered and surrounded by conspiring trouble-makers.
Coffee with a splash of milk.
A letter in the mail instead of more junk.
A break in the work day to write a silly blog post and zone out for a few minutes.

Big Boys

Confession:

Jack and Woody are creeping up on three years old, and I'm not ready to treat them like big boys.

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.

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 baby 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, they know they are not babies.


The Wheelchair Conundrum
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 trouble 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 babies' big boys' arms.


The Plan for a Big Boy Upgrade
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.

Wish me luck!

Get Real!

"Taking Pictures of the Little Ones, a Study." 

 Pictures we might print for Maw Maw or post on Facebook:

The other 100 or so we snapped while trying to get one good picture: