What I am Thankful For....

1) The crazy blogs that I read that have taught me the amazingness of exploiting the CVS Extra Care Card. See all that stuff? I paid out of pocket $5 for all that-and printed on that register tape is $12 in Extra Care Bucks. Yes. I profited $7 and look at everything I got!

2) Shosh for telling me that the Museum of Science and Industry was free today. Me and about 4 million of my closest friends and family decided to take advantage of that. A teeny bit crowded. But they love it.

Dovi loves the trains.

Jacob's "don't take a picture of me mommy" face

Elisha love love loves the baby chicks-then again he loves anything soft and cuddly.

I refused to wait in line 45 minutes so they could sit on a tractor. Or milk a plastic cow. So they had to entertain themselves by climbing on the fiberglass cow.

3) My lovely family Thanksgiving. Despite the fact that only 2/4 kids ate turkey, 2/4 ate the amazing parsnip pear bisque, and 1/4 ate stuffing, a lovely time was had by all. Don't worry, 4/4 enjoyed the Dunkin Hines Brownies. Thanks.

4) My amazing, wonderful, helpful hubby. And he's pretty cute too. Get over that cold soon, honey! Can't. deal. with. it. much. longer. Kids will kill me if you are unavailable.

5) My four amazing, adorable, opinionated, passionate, creative kids. They might drive me bonkers but I wouldn't trade them for anything.

That's all for now. Over and out.

Clarification

My kids take showers every night. Benjie was the awesome Abba who gave then individual baths.

They prefer baths but the Prison Warden puts her foot down. Showers it is. It's when I fold and put away that day's laundry!

Maybe I'm doing something right?

So the majority of the time my kids are little snots. They have their own agendas, and they very rarely coincide with mine. No, it is not play time. It's time to put on your coat for school. No, you may not have a 5th waffle-you will vomit. You know, I'm the "No Mom".

But for whatever reason, they've been somewhat...cooperative? cute? the past few days. Maybe it's because they know that I'm ever so slightly depressed over our lack of Thanksgiving plans, the first Thanksgiving in my entire life that I'm just with my immediate family. But I am thankful that I have an immediate family to spend it with so I've just gotta get over the woe is me I have no friends issue. And don't you all invite me. I'm a big girl and am just fine with it they're getting older? Smarter? They know what's good for them?

But maybe, just maybe, I'm doing something right. I really try my hardest with them. Yes, my neighbor calls me "The Prison Warden". I run a tight ship. It makes me sane and happy. And from what I can tell, my kids are relatively sane and happy.

Case in point:

On Sunday night, after their baths(insert gratuitous adorable picture of Elisha living up to his Aqua-Man fame),yes, Benjie was the coolest dad ever and gave each child THEIR OWN BUBBLE BATH. Do you know how huge this is for three kids who've been forced to share a tub since birth? I don't think I've EVER given individual baths! I hate bathing my kids. It's one of those parenting tasks that holds no allure for me. It's my laundry of parenting. Come to think of it, I am laundering the children. I guess I prefer filth.


So after their baths, they came downstairs and were coloring, their second favorite activity after building with blocks. We could throw away every other toy in this house and just keep markers and crayons, paper, and blocks, and we'd be A-OK. I overheard them chatting about making different parts of a city, and I decided to be a "Yes Mom" yet again.

I suggested to them that we hang a roll of paper on the den wall. They went for it.

I hereby present to you:

The City of P-ville, population 3

(three very cute, now shorn 6 year olds, and one 11 year old who allowed Joe the Barber to use the clipper and razor on him without screaming and thrashing for the first time ever.)







Do you see the detail here? Cars! Birds! Clouds! A School! A House-with a DOOR! A Playground! A Sun. I have some seriously cute creative kids here!

Another Hidden Cost of Dovi

Tonight, my hubby is going to a dinner from the school he went to.

My sister in law's father is being honored at said dinner.

I am not going to said dinner.

Why? You may ask. It would make sense for you to go- (a) it was Benjie's school (high school and college) and (b) Rochie's father is being honored.

But I am not going because I have no one to take care of Dovi. It's one thing when I get a babysitter and have my mother in law run over for a few minutes to put Dovi to bed. You can't really ask a 16 year old high school girl to diaper an 11 year old, give him his meds and Pedialyte through his g-tube, ointment up his eyes, and hook him up to his oxygen and BiPap. Not gonna happen.

And since my in laws are going to the above mentioned dinner, I'm out of luck.

I feel terrible. How can I not be going?

The D strikes again. I'll be home foraging eating something nice and nutritious while Benjie is at the dinner.

I really need to find someone, anyone, to train to take care of Dovi, besides for me, Benjie, the nurse, and my mom and Benjie's parents. We used to have Katy our nanny, but she's retired from child care as far as I know. So we're back on our own.

But it's SO hard to find someone who might like to do this. It's not particularly fun or enjoyable. It's not glamorous. If I lived in New York I could snag any one of the Camp Simcha Special guys (or girls!) and beg and grovel ask one of them to help us out.

But here in Chicago there's not a large amount of CSS guys or girls. As in: there are none.

So we're on our own. What else is new?

On a side note, all my extremely furry boys are getting their hair cut at 4:45 this afternoon, and the barber is literally around the corner from the pizza store. Benjie is not home for dinner. In my mind that equals only option:

Who wants pizza for dinner?

Thank G-d!!

I got home from work this afternoon and this blessed sight was waiting for me at my front door:

Dovi's Diapers!!!

Thank G-d for fast shipping!

Not Me! Monday

Time for



Not Me! Monday!



This past week...



I most certainly did not go to my kids' school in pajamas with a skirt thrown over it. That would be embarrassing if I saw anyone I knew. Which I most certainly DID NOT.

While driving to said school, I did not see a teenage girl with French Cuffed Jeans. Why oh why has that idiotic style come back? At least she didn't have on kewl Guess? Jeans and a Benetton Sweatshirt (no laughing, you remember that. With your Eastland loafers with the little knotty things on the end of the laces and your Esprit bag)

I did not get into a huge screaming match with the mechanic regarding repairs on my car.

I did not then send my hubby to pick up the van.

I am not still very ticked off about it.

I did not spending the whole day on Sunday in pajamas lounge wear

We are not still out of diapers for Dovi.

I did not have to buy him Depends that are 400 sizes too big thus necessitating 400 sheet changes this past weekend.

I did not tell my hubby I find it sexy when men clean up to get him to clean up the trashed kitchen on Saturday.

By the way, it most certainly did not work.

I do not recommend all wives try said method.

I have not been unable to find Shana's ballet leotard for about a month.

She has not been wearing leggings, a t shirt, and her ballet tutu to ballet every Sunday due to this issue.

I do not think that her leotard us underneath her bed

And I am not too lazy to try and find it.

She is not quite adorable in this ensemble.

I am not running again!

I am not feeling pumped up for the marathon.

I'm not really enjoying my plain simple layout/banner.

That's all for me

What about you? What didn't you do?

Have a great week!

PS I am not feeling supremely irked by the spacing issues blogger is giving me.
EDITED: I am not pleased that my spacing is now working. Thank you Blogger.

I guess I'll embarrass myself

because I really have very little else Dovi-wise to blog about.

Oh wait-three things.

• I'm currently ignoring that big unhealed wound in his mouth. Sue me. I can't deal with it. It's not infected. It's not bothering him. It does make his breath and drool reek though. Maybe it's worth dealing with. When I get my butt off the couch.
• His orthotics are YET AGAIN giving him problems. Left foot again. This time the blister is between two toes. Yes, you read correctly. Makes no sense. His physical therapist is beside herself. We have an appointment on December 4 at an orthotist to get him and the offending orthotic checked out more closely.
• Last night when Benjie went out to the side porch to get a new case of diapers for Dovi, he made a startling discovery: we have no more diapers. We have lots of chux and lots of pointless diaper liners. But diapers? Seem to be plum out of. So we rustled up some bizarre spare diapers from his closet and 'll call our provider and beg for them to overnight us our shipment. But in the meantime our lovely friend Jeremy will steal bring home a package from his nursing home. Great idea, Rebecca!

On to my embarrassment.

I was tootling down the highway to work yesterday morning, all excited to be working til only 12:45 due to my now-shortened work schedule. It was 8:41 (yes, I checked the time on my phone). I was chatting with Rebecca, wife to Jeremy the diaper thief . My phone beeped a call waiting. To which I said to Rebecca:

"I can't believe Benjie's still at home!"

Then I clicked over to Benjie.

"Sara, you get the genius award"

I immediately knew. I looked down. Sure enough, I had Benjie's keys. Which meant that he (a) did not have a key to his car and (b) he did not have keys to his cases at the store. Nice.

Let me remind you that I was less than five minutes from work.

Sucks to me me. Turned around, drove home and swapped keys.

And worked until 1:45 :(

Inspired

So a few days ago, I was reading another blog about being a "yes mom".

As in, why say no, when you can say yes.

There are so many times when my kids ask me to do something, and my immediate response is "no". But it got me thinking. Why do I say no all the time? Usually, it's mere laziness. I'd rather read my book to myself (still slogging through Eclipse btw) then read Pinkalicious one more time. I really hate making messes. Painting is messy. As is gluing.

Sometimes I say no because I really need to say no. No, Elisha, you may not wear your hoodie to school when it is 45 degrees outside. No, Shana, you may not wear that shirt with a hole in it. Jacob, you must take a shower. Dovi, you may not drink that cup of milk. You will aspirate it into your lungs and get pneumonia. It's my job to keep them healthy and safe.

But most of the time, that's not why I say no. Despite outward appearances, I'm really lazy. I kind of want the kids that want to sit around and read on Shabbos afternoons. I don't particularly enjoy playing Trouble. I like sitting myself on my couch with a cup of tea and reading. Hopefully something other than the Twilight series very soon.

But I need to remind myself-that's not my job now. I wanted these kids. Really, really wanted them. I love them. It's my job to guide them and nurture them, to love them and teach them right from wrong. And what am I teaching them if when they ask me, if, say, can we make banana bread with you Mommy, I say "No! It's too messy" or, "Will you read me a book?" and I immediately respond with a no?

On Monday night, we dropped Dovi off at the reading tutor. The kiddies were in their jammies already. As we left the house, they realized it was snowing. Tiny little flakes, only sticking on the grass, but snow nonetheless. Elisha, Shana, and Jakie were thrilled! SNOW!!!! When we got back from dropping him off, they asked me if they could go outside and play in the snow. I immediately responded "No, you're already in your jammies". But then I realized-WHY was I saying no? For no good reason. Homework was done. Lunches were made. Laundry was put away. We really had nothing else to get done before bedtime, which wasn't even for an hour. So I said:

"You know what, guys? Yes, you can play in the snow!"

They were so excited! Enjoy the pictures.

Look how cool it is-their jackets have reflective tape on them, and it really works!!



So all went well.

Until Jacob smashed Shana in the face with a debris filled snowball. She still has a big scratch across her face to show for it.

And then Benjie tripped over the huge pile of boots on the front hall carpet.

You can't have everything, my dears :)

It's been a few months

I realize and I haven't discussed my love of the Target pharmacy.

I was chatting on Facebook with a friend of mine and she mentioned how she was leaving Osco (boo...hiss....terrible people....) because they were so awful.

So I realize it's been a few months. Must mention Target again.

I

LOVE

THE

TARGET

PHARMACY.

I {heart} Target.

Target Pharmacy? Good.

Makes me happy.

They (get this) do what they are supposed to do. They HELP! They help fix problems!

It's shocking, I know. Try and contain yourself.

If loving the Target Pharmacy is wrong, I don't want to be right.

Go. Switch your prescriptions. Be happy.

Get the lovely checkup phone calls-"You picked up antibiotics for your daughter last week. How's she feeling?"

And the automated ones-"Your prescription is ready"

They have AUTO-REFILL! Osco did not. Or if they did they never offered it to me.

When you switch your prescriptions, tell them I sent you. Maybe they'll give me gift cards.

Then again, maybe not.

HELP!

Someone, anyone, who know anything about blog layouts!!!!

I've destroyed my blog!!!!!

Fix my header!!!!
HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Leave me a comment if you know how to fix this atrocity.

Pictures from the Blackhawks Game

Our Tickets-what a PITB to have them scan eight pieces of paper-there had to be a better way! And I was nervous the whole time...I was afraid a hot dog would fall out of a pocket!

Yes, we were very high up (second to last row, to be exact!)

An excited boy waiting for the game to start. Note the new hat.

Jacob, who refused to look at the camera, very seriously watching the game and drinking his soda. While wearing his new hat.

Elisha and Shana. She was kinda bored. But liked her new hat.

My nephew Gavi.

They score!!

A random picture of Shana just because she's cute. Please ignore the basket of laundry in the background. I was about to take it down to the scary slasher basement. But do you notice the light fixture in the background? I liberated it from the trash pile at my friend's house when they were doing their addition. They were going to throw it away. I hung it in my front hall. All is well.

Just for you, Stephy-Poo

These are the Blackhawks.

Not Me! Monday

I would never have worn the. same. outfit. for. two. days. Sunday and today, Monday-hey, it was clean!

My six year old fashionista did NOT call me on it. "Mommy, you wore that outfit yesterday!"

I did not eat 2 1/2 hot dogs at the Blackhawks game last night. Hot dogs are (a) disgusting and (b) very unhealthy.

I did not have my children smuggle said hot dogs into the Blackhawks game last night. They don't sell kosher ones at the United Center!

I did not have a whole discussion with said children about the smuggling of said hot dogs: "Do not talk about the hot dogs stuffed into your coats while we are walking in!"

I did not also stuff said pockets of said children with potato chips because I am too cheap to pay $1.50 for potato chips at the Blackhawks game when same said chips are $.25 at the grocery store.

My children did NOT have a great time at the Blackhawks game last night.

They did NOT go to bed at 9:30pm. On a school night.

I am not the best mother ever.

I am not thanking my mom for the awesome birthday gift for the D man. They liked the hats too. And the soda. And the Lemonheads. Thanks.

Dovi was NOT crying however over the fact that the Blackhawks lost. On his birthday game. "It not fair Mommy"

Benjie did not then have to carry said ticked off 11 year old on his back down three flights of stairs to exist said Blackhawks game.

I am not sitting at work scratching my head because I heard that there is lice in one of my kids' schools.

I am not psycho phobic about lice.

I will check all my kids tonight. Maybe twice.

I did not just spend $8.10 in overdue fees at the library. Why can't I return books on time?

I have not read two out of the four Twilight books in four days.

I am not halfway through the third.

I am not wondering what the hype was about.

But I am not feeling compelled to finish because they're like a car crash that you must watch.

I will not be reading said books tonight. All night.

I am not very tired.

What about you? What didn't you do today?

Debriefing

WOW! What a day.

Dovi got soooo many awesome phone calls from Camp Simcha Special counselors and friends.

Calls from:

Raphi
Yoeli
Asher
Nachman
Rabbi Wiggles
Aharon
Video Joe
Ezra (they are so freaking cute on the phone)
Miriam
Many many cousins and aunts/uncles

He received:

A really really crappy digital camera

Tickets for all of us to go to the Blackhawks game on Sunday

A mini safer torah. It's so cute-it has a little aron, little yad, gartel, and choshen thingy (forgot what it's called). For those of you in the know, he made Benjie roll it to this week's parsha and then proceeded to do gelilah over and over again. :)

Evidentially Dance Dance Revolution has been ordered for him, but there is minor concern that he might fall while "dancing" on it and break another leg...


My house was LOONY this afternoon! It was a wee bit hyper. Between the phone ringing off the hook and the accompanying Camp Simcha excitement/craziness, my house was seriously. out. of. control.

Thank you all for your warm wishes and happy birthdays for Dovi on this excellent day!

Happy Birthday, Dovamatic

So today is The D Man's 11th birthday.

How is it humanly possible that (a) Dovi is 11 and (b) I am the parent of an 11 year old! I mean, I'm 25! That means he would've been born when I was 14! OK he was born when I was 20 and I am the mother of an 11 year old and I am 31. Yikes.

I'm actually writing this post the night before and setting it to publish at 7:31am, the time that D was born. Cool. EDITED TO ADD: For some reason it didn't work and I published it at stinky, non-meaningful 8:48am. Darn.

So I guess I'll be a bit introspective on this the big milestone. I mean, it's time to start planning for the Bar Mitzvah! We still need to figure out exactly what we're going to do, but let me tell you, it will be:

• extraordinary
• epic
  
• tear-inducing
  
• super fabulous

And I have 2 years with which to plan it.

I still remember when you were born. You were so tiny, so perfect (I mean, how was I supposed to know that...ummm....babies aren't normally that floppy and sleepy?). You seriously were the king. Your grandparents and Aunt Yehudit were lining up every day just to come over and hold you. We could not get enough of you and your cute little cold eensy weensy hands. And those hands? Still cold. Still teeny. They're so yummy. I love to kiss your little hands. And your fluffy head. What is it with you and your Abba and the excessive hair growth? It's like you get your hair cut, and within three weeks you have a mop on your head! But it's so soft and silky, and we'd better enjoy it while you've got it, because if you'll be following my brothers, you'll be balding by high school. Those genetics. They get you every time. (And just for my brother Aaron, the less-bald brother, not to be confused with David, the completely bald brother. I'm feeling Dovatronic...drinking Gin and Tonic. Love you guys :) )

So, Mr. D, you've been here for 11 years. I have to be honest, every year, when we have a birthday, I thank G-d that we got another. Another year to love you and care for you, to laugh with you, to cry with you, to scream with and AT you. Life with you is not simple. It's not easy. Heck, we've got a whole blog devoted to explaining you! And you have your own section in my handy dandy uber organized "P for Dummies" ring binder. And that section is longer than all three of your siblings plus the restaurtant menus put together.

I still remember when we went to New York when you were three months old to see Dr. Axelrod for the first time and get the official diagnosis for what we already knew was true. That Saturday night, we went to Washington Heights to visit Lana and David S and their daughter Simi, who has FD as well. She was 2ish at the time. I remember them opening the door holding her. The first thing that went through my mind? "Oh My G-d. They've been doing this for TWO WHOLE YEARS".

I cannot believe that I've been doing this for ELEVEN WHOLE YEARS. How have you been here so long? How have you ever not been here?

I wrote a few weeks ago about how I wonder what my life would be like had you just been Dovi, not Dovi with FD and the currently large infected sore in his mouth due to the unfortunate fall on Simchas Torah and the lack of pain in the mouth causing you not to baby said sore and causing the sore not to heal necessitating another message to the dentist and probably a lovely visit there this afternoon on my first afternoon to myself after my new and improved reduced work schedule that is allowing me not to work on Thursday afternoon or Friday. But seriously. What would it be like?

I've gotta say, I have no desire to know what it would be like. Please, G-d, give me YEARS more of broken sleep, feedings, meds, IEPs, doctor appointments, therapy appointments, oxygen, BiPap, g-tubes, nurses in my house, fighting with the insurance company.

Give me years more.

I'm not ready to be done.

Happy Eleventh Birthday!

I love you so much, Dovi Bear.

It's Like the Weather In Chicago.

Dovi's blood pressure, that is.

If you don't like it, come back in an hour. It'll be different. As in completely different.

One of the lovely symptoms of FD is blood pressure instability. Dovi's blood pressure can fluctuate from insanely high to insanely low and back again in a 15 minute time frame.

I cannot tell you how many times we have had to gently push the nurse's bugged out eyes back into their heads upon taking his blood pressure in the morning when he is inpatient at the hospital.

"You mean that 230/150 is not normal? Neither is 65/35? Come back in 15 minutes. We'll try again."

Now this is not to say that Dovi walks around all day with these insane blood pressure readings. What it does mean is that Dovi is on no less than three blood pressure medications given at different times of day, all trying to get him to an even keel. There's the 4 am one to lower it and the 6:45 am ones to bring it back up, as well as the 12pm one to keep it up and the 7 pm one to lower it back down again.

And overall it works. But there are definitely times during the day, especially if he has fallen asleep briefly, when he will need Pedialyte to bring it back up. We usually know that by...ummm...the falling over/drunk looking walk. No, Dovi did not enjoy a nice bottle of wine. Or two. He merely just woke up.

Why is this all on my mind? Dovi's amazing, fabulous nurse, who allows us to sleep five nights a week, despite reading tons and tons of literature on FD, cannot wrap her head around this concept.

She called us this morning at 7:15, after she left at 6:30, just to tell us that Dovi's blood pressure was low when she took it at 6:15 before she left. Right. He gets his meds at 6:45, and that nice blood pressure of 65/35 will pop right back up.

I seriously cannot understand why she cannot understand it. Whatever. We slept all night. Unlike Saturday night when Dovi woke up at midnight, 1 am, 4 am, and was up at 6am for the day. All that waking equaled two pajama changes, two linen changes, a bunch of diaper changes, and very little sleep for two tired parents.

Lovely.

I'm excited!

I get to be a guest contributor to my cousin Aimee's website! About a year ago, she and a friend started Ecoscene, a company with the following mission:

To review and provide information about eco-friendly products and services through our website and weekly e-magazine. We encourage our readers to "go greener" by providing an authentic perspective on sustainable alternatives.

Well, on another blog I read I saw a mention of some reusable cloths that are supposed to be seven times as absorbent as paper towels, washable, reusable, etc etc etc. Well with my crazy house, we go through about a roll of paper towels every two days or so, so these really intrigued me.

I'm not sure how the review process works, or when I will write the review. But I'm pretty excited!

Now if they'd only come up with a eco-friendly replacement for tinfoil...

Not Me! Monday

My daughter did not inform me that her friend's two year old sister has. the. same. sweatshirt. as. me. Lovely.


I did not consider for one moment actually using that challah dough that fell onto my pristine floor.


I did not either break some little bone in my foot or strain the muscle around it on Friday night. Because of my spike heeled knee high boots I was wearing.


I am not now limping around my house in clogs with my foot taped thanks to my next door neighbor the podiatrist.


I did not stay in my PJs all day on Saturday.

My husband did NOT just flip to a nature channel and say "Kids! Look at the cheetah!" Only to realize that it was...umm....d.e.a.d.

My children did not also hear the ad for CSI Miami while watching Sunday afternoon football. And the ad did NOT say "you quit your job to have sex for money?"

I was not so appalled that I am not considering writing an irate pointless letter to CBS to complain.

I also do not think that I want to stop letting them watch TV at all due to this event.

I did not wear a sticker that said "Elisha" on it to work all day on Friday because Shana made it for Elisha and he refused to wear it and Shana was sad. And then I forgot I was wearing it.

I would never have run to four different stores on Sunday looking for photo albums. I mean how hard can it be to find a simple ring binder style photo album with 3-up slide in pockets? Evidentially very hard.

I did not go to said four stores in my black yoga pants with a brown knee length skirt pulled on over it. That would look wacko.


I did not eat 1/4 of a Ultimate Chocolate Cake by myself this past weekend. Disgusting.



I did not spend most of Sunday reorganizing and cleaning out the toy/office closet. It does not look awesome. Yet it does. Did that make sense?

What about you? What didn't you do?

An Apology

My heart was broken on Friday afternoon.

I found out that I have deeply hurt the staff of Keshet, Dovi's wonderful home away from home for the past five years.

A few times on my blog, I have mentioned Keshet. I would like to preface this by saying that I. adore. the. school. It truly is Dovi's home away from home. It is like my family. The devotion and selflessness of the staff amazes me every day. I thank G-d every day that we live in Chicago and the option of Keshet exists for Dovi.

As the mother of a child with special needs, I am always questioning myself-am I doing enough? am I doing right by Dovi? And life with a special needs child who suffers both developmental and health impairments, it's hard. Frustrating. Things don't always go the way I'd hoped and planned. So I write about it.

Frustration is part and parcel of being a parent. I apologize for not being thoughtful in what I was writing and how it might have affected others. That was by no means my intention.

But in no way did I mean to imply that I was not happy, thrilled with Dovi's time at Keshet and the education he receives there on a daily basis, and that I hope he continues to receive for a long time to come.

I apologize for any hurt that I might have caused.

What is that on the floor you ask?

Hmm...kinda looks like some white poo...on my kitchen floor.


No, no, folks, it's what Benjie discovered when he went in the kitchen after we finished watching Gray's Anatomy (or is it Grey's?) and found my amazing ever-rising challah dough.
Yikes! I made a quadruple batch of challah so as to make the bracha when separating the dough for a little girl here in Chicago who was unfortunately diagnosed with cancer (see, everyone has their pekalah).

For some reason, my yeast was...ummm....overenthusiastic?

I shoved it all back in, transfered some of it to a container, and stuck it in the fridge. Now it's overflowing AGAIN from both those containers in my scary-slasher-film-basement-fridge-the-same-fridge-that-was-unplugged-by-the-asbestos-guys.

I'll be baking lots of challah this afternoon!


On to bigger and better...who here is amazed by how the trees have just shed their leaves this week? My tree in front of my house was covered on Sunday. Now my lawn is 100% covered in leaves. Which makes the children quite happy. They've been making large leaf piles and jumping. They have some scary plan for this afternoon involving bats and cups of water, so as to make rivers in the leaves. Not sure we're going to really do that.

I'm really hoping that my lawn service is coming on Monday to take away said leaves-are they finished already for the season? I have no idea. But if your kids like leaves, come play on our lawn.

That's all. Not so interesting. Have a nice weekend.

I have excellent "Not Me! Mondays" coming on Monday, so come back soon!

You Don't Look Like the Mom of a Special Needs Child...

I will preface this post by saying that I am not angry at all, remotely insulted, or anything of the sort by the conversation I had with a friend of mine yesterday. We were talking about something (I really have no recollection what the topic was) and she said to me:

"Well Sara, you don't really look like the parent of a special needs child. You really have it together"

I kind of ignored the statement, we finished the conversation, and hung up. She called be back ten minutes later all afraid that I was offended. Which I wasn't. I was more confused.

What is a "parent of a special needs child" supposed to look like? Frazzled? Ungroomed? Walking around crying? Disorganized? Since Dovi has FD I'm supposed to completely lose control over myself and my self dignity?

I've had another conversation with another good friend of mine, about the concept in Judaism of everyone having their "pekalah". A pekalah translates from Yiddish, I believe, as a "sack"-meaning that everyone has their own little sack of problems in life. No one has a perfect life. Everyone has problems, issues, struggles.

Some people's are merely more visible than others. One person might look amazing but have an awful marriage or struggle to pay the bills. Another person might have money coming out of their ears but struggles with their children, or struggles even having children. Everyone has something. But people still manage to carry on in their lives, with their struggles, as functional, groomed, rational adults.

It just so happens that my "pekalah" is a bit more visible, a bit more obvious than everyone else's. When I walk down the street, pushing Dovi in his wheelchair, you see him. You immediately recognize my very obvious struggles in life. And I'm not embarrassed of Dovi, or his struggles. I give him his formula in the park, he goes to synagogue on Saturday mornings hooked up to his feeding pump.

I push his wheelchair with pride. Look at him! Look how awesome he is!!

But why is the fact that he is disabled supposed to equal out to me being a flustered mess? Why do I have to be congratulated for being a functional, rational adult? For my house being clean, my walls painted and not colored on, laundry done, dinner cooked, for being groomed and have a smile on my face?

Everyone has something.

Mine is just a heck of a lot more visible than yours.

The People Have Spoken

And the P family is having the side dishes of Squash Kugel and Asparagus for Shabbos lunch.

Last night I took the kids to vote. I love taking them. I always wait until they get home from school so they can come with me to vote. Luckily our polling place is literally down the block from us. That's lucky because the school bus was...45 minutes late. So the poor kids got home at 4:55 and they were ravenous when they got off the bus. So we ate dinner at 4:58 and then strolled down the block to vote.

They are so into the voting process. We were talking about it, and the election they had at school for their favorite fruits (strawberry won in a landslide). I had the brilliant idea to have an election for our Shabbos side dishes. This occurred after the World War 3 I had with Elisha over homework. I literally wrote on his sheet "Elisha would not do his homework" and tossed him in his room until Benjie came home to deal with him. But I digress (as usual).

So the kids got paper to make ballots, set up a polling place in their room, and we held the election. Squash Kugel tied Potatoes, and the tie was broken by Dovi's homework volunteer who happened to be here. Much to Elisha's dismay, Asparagus trounced Green Beans by a score of 5 to 1. He was crying. He does not so much understand the democratic process.


On to my loverly daughter. I can't think of any good segue so I'm just switching topics.

This is the second day I'm posting about her. Well yesterday my boss informed me that he is cutting my hours from 26 to 20 due to the crappy economy. I was like, "duh. Can't believe it took you this long" (K I didn't say that but I thought it) So now I'll be working 5 hours a day Monday through Thursday and have Friday off. Which is nice. But ummm....we kinda need the money. So I'm not thrilled. I need to figure this out. But how does this relate to the graffiti artist Shana? Well, this week I shall be working M,T,Th,F, with today at home due to Shana's bizarre vomit habits.

Those of you who know us well know what I'm talking about. She did it again.

Those of you who don't know us, Shana has an incredibly bizarre habit, that really only happens in the winter, and usually on Saturday mornings, which made me a tad surprised to have it happen today.

She wakes up about 4 am, pukes phlegm a bunch of times, goes back to sleep for three to four hours, and wakes up fine. That is basically what happened last night, with the loverly addition of diarrhea at 3 am. Which Benjie dealt with because for some reason, my kids go to him when they wake up. Not sure how that came about, but heck, I'm not complaining.

But back to this phenomenon. It literally happens 3-4 times per year. In exactly the same fashion. I've spoken to her pediatrician about it and her opinion is that since it only happens a few times per year, there's no real way to do any testing regarding it, so to kinda sorta just ignore it. But I can't help but think that it's just bizarre. I mean, she has morning sickness, for pete's sake! She's 6! She's not 26 and pregnant!

Opinions? Ideas?

Tagger

Ahh...the art of my daughter. As I mentioned, she has tagged:

• my car
• Benjie's car
• her dresser THAT I PAINTED AND DECOUPAGED MYSELF

What is with her? She's SIX years old!

Without further ado, the "art" of Future Graffiti Artist Shana P

Benjie's car
Another view of Benjie's car

The dresser.

My van

Another view of my van.

The only one I have any hope of getting clean is my van because it's marker and all their markers are washable. Benjie's car and the dresser? Ball point pen. Any ideas? The dresser isn't so noticeable because it's on the dark brown section, but I know it's there.

Not Me! Monday

So Not Me! Monday is running a little late, due to...ummm..MckMama having her baby a few days ago. So here we go:


This past week:


I would NEVER have stuck my kids in front of the TV for like two hours on Sunday morning because the house was spotless due to impending video making in my house (don't even ask) and I didn't want them to trash it.

I have not ignored my kids the past two nights in a row and let my lovely amazing hubby put them to bed.


I would never have fed my family the same dinner three out of the past four nights (Friday night, Sunday night, and Monday night).


I would never, ever have not started and then put down about four different books. I just haven't been able to find one that speaks to me. I always finish what I start.


Am not coming up with a radical new reorganization of my first floor. It does not involve the giving away of my breakfront. Why would I find more space by disposing of furniture? How does that make sense? And loyal readers, what does my need to reorganize say about my stress level in life?


Am NOT about to become the mother of an 11 year old. What the heck?! I'm like 23 years old. How has this happened?


Did not see the graffiti my darling daughter (yes, she's 6, not 2) applied to my car, Benjie's car, and her dresser, and think "ooh this will be a funny blog post"


I'm not a wacko and have not discovered the joys of ironing my boys' dress clothes with starch. Who am I kidding? I hate ironing. I just needed to mention to you all that I use starch. I'm snazzy that way.


What about you? What else have you not done this week?

EsKapees

Yesterday was the big EsKape event.

Holy cow did it go great! So many friends came! Thank you for coming out and supporting Chai Lifeline. The location was fabulous, all the kids had a blast, and the food was yummers.

Pizza? Wraps? Pasta? Donuts? What more could we want? My kids had a blast eating about 4,000 Dunkin Donuts each and drinking umpteen cups of Coke. I was a bit concerned they might puke in the car on the way home, but thankfully we escaped that. (haha-get it? escaped? I'm funny)

There were four large screens showing this year's Camp Simcha Special video on a continuous loop. (yes, my CSS readers, we had the 2008 video! Video Joe hooked us up :) ) I honestly can say that I know the entire video by heart now. It was great.

Video Joe (remember when he came to visit us Dovi?) spoke for a bit. Quite excellently I must say. We also were lucky enough to have him stay with us for Shabbos. Him and his friend. Who slept until noon on Shabbos. Not at our house, though, due to the flooded scary slasher film basement. They enjoyed the newly drywalled/carpeted due to the same flood as us dark basement at my friend Michelle's. Can you imagine sleeping until noon? I think I have, once, in the past 11 years. When I had the most raging case of strep throat I have ever experienced. Either way, it was lovely to have them. Hope they come again! Although they might be afraid to because my kids were...umm... a little excited to have them and ran around like loony tunes on Friday night screaming their heads off. Nice.

Would it be absolutely repulsive if I used the leftover Nacho Cheese sauce from the event to make macaroni and cheese casserole tonight for dinner?