5

So when I wasn’t looking, this little noodle

Also known as this medium sized noodle

Became this big boy.

Happy Birthday Leo! Today you are five.

Goodbye baby, goodbye toddler and preschooler.

Hello, kindergartener? Gulp.

No doubt about it, you are your own person and you always have been.


Leo, there are so many things I want to say about you, so many things I want to say to you.

I’ve never met anyone like you, and I’m not just saying that because you’re my son. I’ve never seen someone experience life as intensely as you do. When you are happy, you positively glow. You beam like a small planet. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it’s fascinating to know someone whose “default” setting is so stubbornly set to “happy.” You just seem to want to love life. Of course, you’re also human, and you’re not always smiling. And when you are not, well…

Look out.

Mostly, you are a "roll with the punches" kind of guy. And with the right distraction, you recover quickly from hardships, such as not being allowed two kinds of crackers for snack.

I give you full credit. You are a boy of few words (for now) but you know how to get exactly what you want.

You can be infuriating, baffling, hilarious and extremely clever. I'll admit, some mornings, when you wake up at 4:57 a.m. and then also wake your sister up, I do briefly consider selling you on Craig's List. But then you flash me that "I'm happy to see you" grin and throw your little arms around my legs, and I change my mind about the selling.

You surprise me every day, and most days, they are the good kind of surprises.

And now, for the record, a list of things that at the ripe age of five you love (in no particular order):

1) Scrambled eggs
2) Dora (god help us all) and Diego and your latest discovery, Mickey Mouse (you like the oldies though, not the new cheesy Disney Channel computerized crap. You call him “Dee-Bow.”
3) Books. Books are one of the few things you will sit still for. It is wonderful to see, and many a night you fall asleep like this:

4) Going to the store. Any store. You are my little shopaholic. A true boy of the suburbs, I think you love Costco most of all. For the samples? Maybe…
5) Your favorite color is yellow. You will choose something for the color. Your favorite yellow “thing” is a lemon Popsicle.
6) And maybe the one that makes me happiest of all: Your best friend is Ellie (you say it frequently, and without coercion). I’m not sure how long this will be the case but I treasure it now, even when you are pushing her down and stealing her baby and trying to hide her bobby (pacifier) from her.

Happy birthday to you, my big boy. You are growing up so fast, it terrifies me.

Thank you for teaching me patience and faith and for the daily reminder that sometimes, a smile really can fix everything, at least for a moment.

The Butterfly Has a Bee

Last year while we were on vacation in Oregon visiting family, Leo was stung by a bee for the first time. Twice in one day! Poor guy. Ever since then, any "owie" in our house has been known as a "bee." For example, if I stub my toe and the kids wonder why I am standing in the corner writhing in pain, I explain that I "have a bee."

This weekend when we were playing outside a beautiful monarch butterfly fluttered into our backyard and landed on the grass. I thought, great! The kids will briefly get to see a butterfly close up. Leo was extra excited because his class at school is raising butterflies (I guess for now they are caterpillars). Anyway he is quite interested in butterflies, as is Ellie.

But then the butterfly just sat there, moving just slightly, enough for me to know that it was still alive, but to the point that I thought, Oh great, the kids get to watch a butterfly die up close and in person. (Spoiler for those adverse to sad animal tales (me): everything turned out ok in the end)

I'm glad this story had a happy ending. Maybe the butterfly was just tired. I know the feeling.

Wish You Were Here

It happened often in the first few years after my mom died. I’d read a book or see a movie and just yearn to share it with her. I guess it’s no surprise that we shared a lot of common interests, a few of which happened to be food, cooking and reading. Bonus points if it was a book about food (really, does it get any better?).

One of the last books we enjoyed together was Tender at the Bone, by Ruth Reichl, former New York Times restaurant critic and Gourmet magazine editor. I can’t look at my tattered copy without thinking of my mom.

My mom didn’t get a chance to read the sequel (to be honest, she didn’t miss much, it wasn’t so hot). More things she missed that I know she would have loved: It broke my heart that she never got to see the movie version of Bridget Jones's Diary (boy did we have some laugh-fests over that book) or read White Oleander (also made into a movie that was eh-just OK not nowhere near as great as the book). Of course, aside from books and movies, there are so many things that I would have loved to have shared with her. Speaking of food, I still can’t wrap my brain around the fact that she never got to dine at Erin’s restaurant, to feast her eyes upon a plateau de fruit de mar.

It doesn’t happen much anymore that I see something I want to share with her. Sure, there are pangs here and there, little wistful thoughts of Oh Mom would have loved this. But you know, “After a great pain, a formal feeling comes,” and all that. It’s like my brain has shut that part of my life down.

But then this book and this book came along, and they’ve turned it into this movie:

It opens in a few weeks and is being heavily promoted here in New York City.

I can’t speak for the movie, I haven’t seen it yet. But I loved the books. Julie & Julia: Yes, I laughed, I cried. It has the perfect combination of sarcasm and self-deprecating humor and heart, all of which I love. Oh and also it’s about food, so really, it can’t go wrong. And another bonus (!), it also concerns one of my and my mom’s heroes, Julia Child. How can you not love a woman who says things like: “The only time to eat diet food is while you're waiting for the steak to cook.”

The other book the movie is based on was equally wonderful in different ways. It’s the last book Julia Child contributed to before her death in 2004, and it tells the story of her early years in France with her husband Paul. Really, it’s about how Julia came to be the icon she is today, but it’s told in her adorable, endearing no-nonsense and often, yes, self-deprecating voice.

I know my mom loved Child's joie de vivre (French for "joy of life"), the way she seemed to go through life playing by her own rules, without concern for how others might view her (certainly not worried about feeding her guests food that may have briefly touched the floor--what they don't know won't hurt them, right?) .

I also think my mom admired Child’s admitted “late bloomer” status. My mom visited Europe for the first time in her mid-40s. Child showed that it’s never too late to be the person you want to be. My mom had just discovered the joys of wine drinking and real (like, from France!) French food. She was just getting started.

And did I mention the movie adaptation stars Meryl Streep, another one of my all time favorites (my mom also happened to love her) so again, I’m not too concerned. And I marvel at this perfect storm of Mom-would-have-loved-this-and-gosh-darn-it-I-wish-she-was-here-to-share-it-with-me. I’d sneak out of work early on opening day to see it with her.

Instead I’ll just comfort myself with the hope that she’ll be somewhere, not far from me, on the movie’s opening weekend with a large popcorn and a diet Coke, enjoying it right along with me, (heck, maybe even Julia Child will be there too!). You never know.

I hope it’s true.

Lazy, Crazy Summer Days

It seems that I have started and stopped about a dozen posts lately.

What is there to say? Do I say that weather-wise, this has been the most non-summery summer in my history of living in the New York City area (not complaining, I detest the heat). When all else fails, talk about the weather, right?

Do I talk about how early in the morning, I am not a very nice Mommy? In the last few weeks there have been a couple of instances in which Leo has woken up just south of 5 am. Fine, normal you say, right? Well what’s not normal or acceptable (!) is that he has gone into Ellie’s room at this hour, Ellie, the delightful late sleeper of the family (7:30 most days). This morning took the cake though. Erin heard them laughing uproariously in Ellie’s room. She found Ellie in her crib, jumping up and down and giggling while Leo entertained her with his jump out of the closet antics. He would go into the closet, close the door and then jump out as if to say, surprise! Cue the hysterical laughter of the adoring two-year-old sister. If it hadn’t been so cute I would have strangled Leo, I assure you.

Speaking of this little game, Leo and Ellie are starting to talk to each other. Granted the vocabulary is limited, but it’s happening. A typical conversation goes like this:

Leo: “Ellie! Ellie!”
Ellie: “Yeah?”
Leo: “Dog! Eat!”
Ellie: Yeah Leo. Dog is eating.”

They should take that show on the road, don’t you think?

Do I say that Ellie’s language is positively exploding? And that it has a bit of an um, shall we say demanding theme to it? A few examples:

“I want to eat that right here Mommy.”
“I want to have that right now Mommy.”
"I want play with that now Mommy."

Oh and also it will probably shock no one to learn that she’s a total parrot. Let’s just say she said “Oh my god” clear as a bell the other morning. Note to self (again): watch what I say.

Or should I talk about Ellie's singing? It's become just normal practice for Ellie to walk around singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" or the "ABC" song (her two current faves) as she plays with Little People or blocks or whatevs. I have got to get this on video for posterity or I will never forgive myself.

So in short, we are all plugging along. Work has been INSANE which is probably a big part of my absence here. At the end of the day I feel like Holly Hunter’s character in one of my favorite movies of all time, like a “puddle of poured flesh.”

And if this little confession doesn't say it all about the kind of week it's been, I don't know what does: We ran out of dog food, so our poor dog ate brown rice and turkey dogs (organic basmati brown rice from Trader Joe's mind you) two nights in a row. She didn't seem to mind, and you should have seen Ellie tossing hot dogs at the dog like a zookeeper throwing fish at the seals.

There has been a great deal of Popsicle eating and boat driving (check out the cool boat I scored at a garage sale a few weeks ago!).

It can be a pool or a sand box or you can just sit in it and eat Popsicles, which sounds pretty good to me.

We’ve been playing with cloth napkins…er kerchiefs. Look at my little yentas!

Leo seems to be doing well in his summer program. I got a call from the school social worker yesterday wondering how we were doing in our decision on what to do with Leo for the fall. Um, procrastinating? Trying to pretend like there is no decision needed to be made? I am totally avoiding it. I still feel undecided. I still feel a pang to keep him where he is for one more year. He has his whole life for inclusion, would it be so terrible for him to do one more year at the All Down syndrome All the Time School?

Oh and I’ve been doing some shopping. I found a t-shirt with this slogan on it.

I’m sure some people might misconstrue it but I gotta say that I love it. I mean, you have to have a sense of humor. Otherwise, what do you have?

Trying

I'm trying really hard to not be in a bad mood, or a sad mood, for a variety of reasons.

But even I'll admit it's hard to take life too seriously around these people:

(Photo note: It was crazy sock day at camp.)

Musings on Birthdays, Life: Please, Somebody Slap Me

I don’t know what my problem is. I am getting seriously emotional (melancholy? Hormonal?) in my old age.

As I said, Ellie turned two on Sunday.

I’m not sure if it was Sunday night blues but by Sunday afternoon I was downright teary. I’m not forty yet, not really all that close (OK, technically closer to forty than thirty for those of you keeping score) but, lately I just feel like time and life are so fleeting. I mean one minute you're pregnant and the next minute they’re two and blowing out the candles on an Elmo cake, looking both tiny and gigantic, at the same time.

And the next minute they’re slamming the door in your face and screaming at you that they hate you.

I know it’s not quite that simple or fast and a few other things come between those events, but sometimes it feels really, just brief. The whole thing. And sometimes I’m just scared.

And I don’t think it helps that it was just our little family celebrating on Sunday. There were no big crowds, no family (everyone is too far away). Don’t get me wrong, we could have invited people, we chose not to do a big party this year and really I’m OK with that, but in the moment, I don’t know, I felt a sudden pang of regret, which is silly since Ellie’s too little to care and Leo usually spends most of the time at any party we have asking to go downstairs to “play” (in the basement playroom, away from all the people and noise).

We’re going to my sister’s wedding in Oregon next month where pretty much every living family member (on my side) will be, so there’s that too. Another reason not to worry about doing a big event for the birthdays.

I just want everything to be special and perfect for my kids, which I know is totally a set-up for complete and utter disaster and failure. I should relish this time, when the kids are too little to ask for expensive gifts, when the best present of all is still the box the toy came in.

We decided to get Ellie a tricycle but didn’t want to spend a lot of money. I was so proud when I found this for $7 at garage sale.

And then we brought it home and gave it to Ellie and it is massive (next to her) and tippy and hard-edged and death-trap looking (especially when Target ran out of toddler bike helmets). And then I looked on Amazon to read more about the trike and there were 49 reviews saying things like “Run don’t walk from this Big Mistake" and "Don’t be fooled by the cutey vintage look.”

Oops.

I think it will be fine once she gets a little bigger. And Leo can definitely ride it (great, something else for them to fight about).

I know I’m just a ninny sometimes. It’s as if I find stuff to worry and fret over. Ellie had a great birthday. She was with the people who love her. She spent the day playing in the backyard, taking a long nap, eating Popsicles and barbequed turkey dogs, swimming in the kiddie pool and blowing out the candles on a gigantic Elmo cake made by a renowned pastry chef, created just for her.

What more could anybody ask for?

Those Crazy East Coast Drivers

If you were on the road in our parts this weekend, you might have spotted this suspicious duo:

Apologies you were not forewarned.

A little back story about this photo: this was taken at a friend's son's birthday party this weekend. These cars (motorized--I guess technically battery powered, but still! for little kids? Who thought of that and what were they smoking when they came up with it?). But. Leo did amazingly well. He totally figured out the gas pedal and sort of even steered. Sort of. And Ellie, well I'm not sure if you can tell from the picture but she sat so still and patiently while Leo chauffered her. She didn't once try to take the wheel (I don't think she was brave enough) but was completely happy to be driven around. She did hold on to that plastic duck in her lap for dear life.

2

Where does the time go?


Ellie, one day old, 2007

Ellie, age 1

Ellie, age 2

Two years ago today we woke before dawn, dropped our then only child off early at school and drove the empty streets to Manhattan to have a baby. To have our Ellie.

Ellie enjoys the finer things in life, including "wahwewwies" (strawberries), ai-uns (raisins), chee (no translation needed)and she is known to still sneak an occasional ba-ba (shhh...don't tell).

She loves to push Raggedy Ann and Baby around in her doll stroller, "talk" to her Little People as they play in the barn or house, "cook" in her play kitchen and sing the "ABC" song. She's also a mean (and funny) dancer. Remember Elaine on "Seinfeld?" Ellie has her moves beat, hands down. No, really.

Favorite words/expressions include: "What's that?", "I want uppy Mommy," "I want to go bye-bye" and "Leo hit me!"

Happy Birthday to our dear, sweet, silly, opinionated, dramatic, challenging, fun-loving little girl. You are such a delight. I love you so much that it terrifies me sometimes. You are the daughter I always wanted.

Love,
Mommy

Eagle Eye

This must be some kind of a record. I saw two young women with Down syndrome in a ten block walk from my bus to my office this morning.

The first one I recognized from the back. It was her build and her gait. Of course as I passed her I had to confirm it and yes! She was probably about twelve and was holding her grandma's hand. I am always so impressed when I see older kids that appear to be so, well, calm. Leo is NOT calm (I know he's barely five, what do I expect?). I so wanted to stare and eavesdrop (shouldn't we all get some kind of ID tag that allows us free reign to communicate without being judged as freaks, with other families with kids with Down syndrome?).

I swear I can spot them from a block away. It's funny how you develop this sense.

The second girl I saw right outside my office building. She was holding the hand of a young man, maybe her brother? They looked alike.

Anyway, it was just kind of cool. We are everywhere! And apparently out in full force today in New York City.

Alive, and, Well…

Apologies for the absence. I wish I had a good, glamorous excuse.

Barring that, I give you a few recent observations:

-Erin took Leo for an all day excursion in NYC to Little Boy Heaven aka The Intrepid Museum yesterday (see photos, above-the fountain shot was taken at a park just next to the museum and yes, that's Leo piloting a helicopter) while Ellie and I went for mani-pedis. Oh I kid. Really we hit the thrift stores (three words: rick rack jumper-score! (for Ellie)) and she took a marathon nap while I did some chores and caught up on my DVR. The most surprising part of the day was Ellie spent the first hour asking for and looking for Leo. According to Erin, Leo did something similar. Whenever they saw a small girlish looking person Leo would excitedly exclaim “Eh-yee! Eh-yee!” So again, with the love-hate relationship. They aggravate each other to no end but the second one of them is gone their little lives are thrown into chaos.

-Ellie has a bunch of new phrases: “He’s running! He’s walking!” (upon observing people, well, running and walking—this is when we are driving in the car). What do you want? We live in the suburbs. Sadly, walkers are not so commonplace as they were in Brooklyn.

-The other night Leo (aka Lightening Hands) somehow squirmed his little mits into the (baby locked! Honest!) Dreaded Poisonous Under-the-Sink Cabinet. He pulled out the not so deadly pet scent neutralizer (thankfully it’s non-toxic) and managed to spray Ellie squarely in the face. Awesome. Just another reason NOT to have toxic chemicals around…but anyway. Did I mention he managed to do all of this in the span of the few seconds I spent looking away from the two hooligans? I thinking I was doing something nervy, like washing a dish.

Of course, Ellie was terrified and was quickly reduced to a puddle of hysterical tears. I appropriately admonished Leo with the requisite time out. Apparently Ellie was taking notes and paid close attention to what I said to Leo, because all weekend she would walk over to the under-the-sink cabinet and say over and over “Leo spray me! Leo spray me!”

Kind of boring, right? But strangely at the same time, never a dull moment.