31 for 21, Day 24: The News is Good

Welp. Clearly I've failed at ye olde "31 for 21" this year. It was a nice thought, but it was not to be. There was a time when I could blog every day and this is just NOT that time.

But I've enjoyed the abundance of Down syndrome articles friends have shared in the last few weeks (courtesy of Down syndrome Awareness Month). There's so much good information now. So much positivity and hope. So much that wasn't there on that insufferably hot, humid day more than eleven years ago in the delivery room, when a doctor I'd never met gruffly muttered, "Well, we think he has Down syndrome."

This week, some of that good information came in the form of a podcast. I've started listening to them again, after an unintentional hiatus. I used to enjoy them when I was commuting (a hot coffee, a seat by a steamy window, a voice whispering eloquent writing or dialogue into your ear? THE BEST). Now my commute is two minutes long, the time it takes for me to drive home from dropping Ellie at school, walk to the kitchen table and pull out my laptop. So I've had to get a little more creative about finding the time to listen.

But check this one out. Writer and comedian Bethany Van Delft says, of her realization about her early days of having a baby with Down syndrome:

"Once I stopped fearing...I realized all moms cry a lot. All moms doubt their ability to raise this child. All moms worry about the future. I used to wish I could go back in time and get that test after all, but now I wish I could could go back in time to allow myself to feel the joy that a new mother feels, because that's what I was."


I've started listening to podcasts while running (the only time in my life when things are "quiet"). I turn the volume WAY up so I can't hear my pathetic gasps for air. Recommend!

Then came this story, about a new program in which young people with Down syndrome write "Congratulation" letters to new parents of babies with Down syndrome. Now, "Congratulations!" is not a word I remember hearing much (ever?) at the hospital when Leo was born. Luckily, I think the world has changed a bit since then, but this campaign is still amazing and much-needed. An excerpt from my favorite letter:

"PS. This baby is going to be the best thing that ever happens to you."


Leo, 18 months. 

Yes.

Day 2: Tidbits

1. It was a cold, rainy Saturday here today. It feels like October came and a switch flipped. Hello, fall. Joaquin (hurricane, that is) spared us thank goodness. Three years out and we're still all a little twitchy, after enduring Super Storm Sandy. Because you just truly never know.

All set for Halloween, already!

2. One week into school and the kids (mostly Ellie) started asking me when we could start decorating for Halloween. I broke my own self-imposed "Not Until October 1" rule after much whining and caved last weekend. Of course they had to throw a "Halloween Party" complete with snacks (Ellie can be quite industrious when she wants to be--see how she fetched everyone beverages and filled the Halloween bowls with snacks?). And yes, they dragged out all the costumes. 'Tis the season.

One costume possibility: Pizza Spider Man. Combining two of Leo's most favorite things. Have I mentioned I will never tire of his fantastic sense of humor?

31 for 21: Hello, Old Friend

I hardly read other people's blogs anymore let alone attend to my own blog, but I just saw that my friend Cate is doing "31 for 21" (blogging for 31 days of October) and thought, hey! That might be fun. And, um, challenging? Seeing as how I'm lucky to blog once a month let alone every day for a month. The last time I did this I think I had babies and prior to that I did it for years and years (also with babies) and well, what can I say? I'm getting older and (more) nostalgic.

We also won't talk about the fact that it's October 2 so I've technically already missed a post. Ahem.

I have a lot of ideas about what to write about. The trick will be formulating them into some coherent posts. I don't think about Down syndrome too much these days. Eleven years into this gig, Leo is just LEO. Sure I attend IEP meetings every year and certainly communicate with his "team" at school and teachers more than I do with the other children. But that just feels normal to me. I think having other children has helped considerably, in that I don't pin everything (bad) on Down syndrome. For example, when Leo was a challenging preschooler who ran away from me at every turn and refused to go to sleep at night (Ah, the good old days when I had to hold his door closed while he wailed), I blamed his Down syndrome. Fast forward seven years to TWO "typical" preschoolers who delight in running from me in the parking lot and not going to sleep at night.

Little did I, an inexperienced parent know that he was actually just being, you know, a preschooler.

More alike than different, indeed.

Middle School Trepidation, (Happy) Conference Tears and My Accidental 31 for 21 Post

The middle of October? GAH!

This is the first year since I've kept this blog that I have not participated in 31 for 21 (blogging for 31 days in honor of Down syndrome awareness/October as Down syndrome Awareness month).

I am not happy about this. I miss this blog. I miss reflecting on this crazy life. It's not that I'm NOT reflecting, I just don't have the same kind of time to compose my thoughts on said crazy life.



As I always do, I will blame them.



They are so helpful while raking leaves, said no parent of preschool twins EVER.



Fall is in full swing. Our neighborhood is awash in orange twinkly lights and porches are bedecked with pumpkins, hay and mums. There also seems to be a proliferation of zombie decorations this year (or as the twins call them, "b'zombies," to which I echo, "pastrami?"). Don't ask--this is what happens when you spend WAY too much time with two three year olds.

We are almost two months into school (what?) and this week was parent teacher conferences.



I met with Leo's teacher first. It was...ok.  He's doing FINE. Math is still his biggest struggle and I'm trying to figure out if it has to be this hard. I mean, I'm not looking for some kind of miracle but I have to wonder if part of it is the way it's being taught. We discussed my interest in him using a more visual math program. I brought up (TouchMath) a program I'd heard good things about and was met with blank looks. I will continue to pursue this. One lightbulb moment though: I don't have to help Leo with his homework. In fact, according to his teacher I shouldn't be doing so. I can't tell you how huge this is. Up until this point I've been sitting with him, dictating some words when he asks, helping him form sentences. The teacher's response: Stop it. He can do it himself and SHOULD be. And guess what? She was right. Of course Leo is not happy about this new development but he'll get used to it.


Our annual visit to...the apple farm parking lot. Ha ha kidding. We did go apple picking, it was just so hectic that I forgot to ask Erin to take a picture until we were about to pack it up go home. Be assured it was scenic!

I can't go into too much detail here but I will say that I am getting VERY NERVOUS about the upcoming transition to middle school. Preparations are already beginning. We are touring a prospective school on Monday and another the following week. This is a time I've been dreading for years, leaving the safe, familiar comfort of his sweet elementary school. The rumor has always been, as one of my dear fellow "special needs" moms puts it, that middle school is "where it all falls apart." Let's hope (OBVIOUSLY) that's not the case. Stay tuned.


Ellie is really into Halloween. Talking about Halloween. Drawing Halloween (seen here: haunted house).

Ellie's conference felt decidedly lighter. When I walked into the room, the teacher welcomed me to a little table and announced that "this is a conference I've been looking forward to."

Swoon.

Of course I teared up. I almost always do at conferences. Yes, Ellie is doing well and fine academically. She's reading at grade level. Math-wise, she's right where she should be. But what her teacher remarked on is Ellie's sensitivity and helpfulness, her compassion and innate ability to recognize when other children need assistance. She detailed how Ellie will help another child, but do it in such a way that she's not drawing attention to herself or seeking out commendation, nor does she in any way make the child feel inferior because they need extra help.

Hmm. Wonder where this comes from? Could it be, that all those articles and studies about the benefits of growing up with a sibling with special needs might actually be true?



Another small example: Ellie's teacher told me that the other day she asked Ellie to bring something to the office and told Ellie she could choose a "buddy" to accompany her. All arms went up in the air. Rather than choose one of her little friends, Ellie, by her own volition, picked a child that is one of the most troublesome, who requires a lot of attention (for behavior). And Ellie's teacher thought that was a pretty impressive choice.

Last night Ellie was asking me about middle school (she listens to everything I say. When will I actually digest this?). "Will Leo and I go to the same middle school?" She asked. I told her no, that it wouldn't work out because of the age difference, but then I did the math and realized they could potentially be in the same high school (OMG. HIGH SCHOOL?).

"But we wouldn't be in the same class, right?"

I said no, not the same class. And then I paused and asked her why she thought that was. I wanted to know if she was going to say something about special needs (she does know the term and she does know about Leo's Down syndrome).

"We won't be in the same class because they don't allow brothers and sisters to be in the same class," Ellie announced with certainty and pride and just a tinge of irritation for my not knowing this.

Swoon again.

So there you go. And maybe this is my accidental "31 for 21 post."

Heroes

In the elevator on the way to speech therapy. Don't ask me why everyone decided to sit.

Leo knows how to push every single one of my buttons, can drive me ten different kinds of crazy, and is hands down, the most stubborn person I've ever met. 

But Leo is also the only person I've ever known whose response to my replacing a light bulb is: "MOMMY!!! You're my hero!"

He exclaims this with his whole body, without an ounce hyperbole.

Leo gazed at the new light bulb above the upstairs bathroom mirror, basking in the improvement and then at me and announced, "I have to hug you Mommy."

No problem, buddy. No problem.

All Things Fall and Maiden Voyages

Selfishly, I think one of the things I like most about "31 for 21" is that October becomes the most documented month of the year. And it doesn't hurt that October kicks off my most favorite season: fall! All hail candy corn, apple cider, pumpkin flavored coffee and crisp afternoons.



I've already talked about my love of fall lights. Last weekend while the babies napped and Erin and Leo were running some errands, Ellie and I went searching for the fall decorations. Going full Halloween seemed premature (and we'll be limited by what we can do this year in terms of decorating, thanks to Sticky Fingers #1 and #2--Looking at you Twin Tornadoes--but dare I say this might be our last year of worrying about baby proofing?). The one thing we could not find was our fall wreath. So  we improvised (see above). No, it's not the candy corn wreath of my dreams (don't ask). But it will do.

***

Last weekend I took Leo, Harry and Lucy to the grocery store. Normally, if I go anywhere but Costco I'm basically screwed I struggle because of ye old cart sitation: two babies, one baby seat in the cart. But a person can't always go to Costco. Because a certain youngest daughter is, shall we say, more than obsessed with strawberry fruit bars. Or, as she calls them, "buys." Note to self: Do not forget the adorableness of how Lucy, at age 28 months seems to transpose her y's for r's (another one: "flowers" are "lowry").


She's big on hats and insists on wearing one wherever she goes.

I spent years trying to keep Leo contained so that he wouldn't run off in public places (grocery stores were a particular challenge) and it could be a constant struggle. Now? He insists on pouring his entire nine year old boy body into the grocery cart no matter the store. At Costco, with their super sized carts, it's not a problem. At Trader Joe's, home of Lucy's beloved strawberry "buys" it's a slight problem. But thank goodness for Down syndrome's low tone, because dang, Leo is some kind of flexible!

My whole point in this story was that Sunday was Lucy's maiden voyage walking independently in a grocery store. This, after Leo pitched a giant fit in the parking lot about the possibility of not being allowed to ride in the "big part" of the cart (I planned to put Lucy there and have Leo walk beside me--he would have nothing of that). My Leo, so the creature of habit. He wanted to ride in the cart and he wanted to hold his cheese crackers!

I decided right then and there when there were actual tears shed by him in the parking lot, that it just wasn't a hill for me to die on, on that bright, sunny, Sunday morning. I expected protests from Harry (if Lucy's rogue, he usually wants to follow).

But not that day. That day, Harry was perfectly content to ride solo in the little front perch of the cart (probably enjoying the novelty of a "single" since his whole life is about tandem and double at this point). Leo loved his starboard post in the belly of the cart, a box of cheese crackers in his lap (another part of his Trader Joe's shopping ritual that dates back to 2008, I'd reckon). And little Lucy carefully stacking "buys" and juice boxes and yogurts? Couldn't have been more thrilled.

31 for 21, 2013, Day One

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I've gone back and forth over whether or not to do "31 for 21" this year (where bloggers post every day in the month of October, which also happens to be Down syndrome Awareness Month, to help raise awareness for Down syndrome).

(I know, world security is hinging on it--odds-makers in Vegas are holding their breath and they are most definitely discussing it in the Situation Room).

Well, you know I'm sentimental. And nearly anyone who knows me will also say that I'm a creature of habit. I've participated in "31 for 21" since 2008. Leo was in preschool! Ellie was a toddler! Harry and Lucy, who?

But back then, I had a lot more to say about Down syndrome. I was only four years into my "journey." In many ways, Down syndrome is an after-thought now. I really don't think much about it all, to be honest.

I feel incredibly corny saying this, but if I can just reach one person...if one person who just received a prenatal diagnosis or found out their newborn baby has Down syndrome and they stumble upon this blog and see that what you might think is your worst nightmare gradually morphs into... a wonderful, incredibly rich, funny, sweet life where Down syndrome becomes one of the last things you think about? Well, that's reason enough to keep this going here. (When my nine-year-old son Leo was diagnosed at birth, I was quite certain that I would never again wake up every morning and not think: MY BABY HAS DOWN SYNDROME).

Do you know what I think about now when I wake up in the morning?

Coffee.
Damn it, those babies wake up early.
What am I going to wear to work?
Coffee.
Is it going to be hot today? What? It's flipping October! Come on now!
Coffee.

Life, it certainly does go on.

So I certainly cannot promise to write 31 days of Down syndrome posts for the rest of this month, but I will write something. Or post a picture. Or maybe both.


Leo, age nine, takes on New York City.

You With the Stars in Your Eyes

Leo, presenting his latest version of the solar system. I feel like he's made a lot of progress since his last version.

Leo continues to be fascinated with all things space. If you ask him about space? Make sure you have some time. Because he will talk. A lot. He knows that Jupiter has a big red spot on it. He loves to talk about saturn's rings (made from ice! And rock!). And he feels very bad for Pluto, who, as everyone knows, was demoted.

You may recall this interest began in the spring, when his class began studying the solar system. We're doing what we can to encourage Leo. Superheros are fine and good but space exploration in eight year olds is something I can really support.

Erin bought him a special "space" issue of National Geographic, which he absolutely devoured. He'd been asking for "space dvds." We found some on YouTube (who can forget "Interplanet Janet?") but a little more research on Amazon presented us with this jewel. Ellie positively groans when Leo asks to watch it but I think she secretly enjoys it.

Back in July, Grandma and Grandpa bought Leo these for his birthday (they hang from the ceiling).

I'm just impressed all those planets (except for Earth, which unceremoniously came crashing down on Leo's bedroom floor sometime in August) are still intact. Speaking of home decor, while searching for an image of the ceiling planets, I came across this, which would be abso-stinking-adorable in Leo's room:

I curse you, overpriced Land of Nod bedding, for all the the fantasies (and at $229 for a full-size quilt, I do mean fantasies) you plant in the heads of well-intentioned parents everywhere!

31 for 21: Here's the Thing

Warning: It's not all about Down syndrome around here. In fact, it's hardly about Down syndrome at all. (If anyone had told me, eight years ago, that I would someday write that as a caption for a photograph of two of my four children (Wait, WHAT?) I would not have ever believed them). This just goes to show you: You truly never know what will happen in your life.

I know you are all waiting in rapt suspense to see whether or not I will participate in  this year's "31 for 21" (blogging every day for the month of October in honor Down syndrome Awareness).

I'm torn. Part of me likes it as an exercise in writing (and sticking to something for an entire month is kind of fun). Selfishly, it's nice for me to have one good chunk of writing to look back on, since I don't post here nearly as much as I like to. But then there is the little matter of what to write? I know everyone says "you don't have to write about Down syndrome" but I do feel added pressure to somehow tie in the old extra chromosome, at least in some posts. I've written so much about Down syndrome that there is some level of performance anxiety involved now. Mostly, I don't want to repeat myself and bore you all to tears (any more than I already do-ha!).

And here's a funny thing: I started this blog in 2008 when my oldest son Leo was four, thinking I'd write mostly about Down syndrome, and that's indeed mostly what I wrote about. I started it as a way to process this Big Thing that had happened in my life and also with the hope that I would find a larger Down syndrome community beyond the one I'd found locally (which was fine, wonderful even, but for some things, more is more). I found that wonderful community, in spades.

I feel like I have beaten the Down syndrome horse. I wrote about our struggles with Leo's sleep and his behavior, about the hand wringing surrounding his school placement, about his eyes and ears and his adenoids and his teeth. I wrote about the grief surrounding his diagnosis and the eventual acceptance.

And then Leo graduated from preschool. Then kindergarten. Suddenly the language delayed little boy would Not Stop Talking.

And then his baby sister grew into a little girl.

And then two more little people came along, and then we were six. Then twin babies became toddlers. Life got even busier and more ridiculous (mostly in a good way).

And Leo still (obviously) has Down syndrome, but I think with every year that goes by, the Down syndrome has receded into something that just is. It's no longer at the forefront. All the questions are gradually being answered. Will he walk and talk? Of course.  Will he read and write? Oh yes. Will he stop running off in public places? Yes, thank goodness. Will his speech improve? Gradually, yes. Of course, knock on wood, we've been very fortunate have none of the major health problems that can be associated with Down syndrome. We've had the privilege of relative normalcy. At least, it's what's normal for us.

All of this to say, I think that mundane, not all Down syndrome, all the time can also be a contribution in this whole "31 for 21." Because to this day I remember the feeling of waking up in the mornings that followed Leo's birth, rolling over and looking at the light coming through the window of our little garden apartment in Park Slope Brooklyn, thinking: "My baby has Down syndrome. My baby has Down syndrome. And that's all I will ever think about again."

Because of course that's the farthest thing from the truth.

But in the early days, when Down syndrome loomed as The Worst Thing That Ever Happened To Me? I would have given anything to stumble onto a blog that talked about "American Horror Story" (I've decided I'm absolutely too scared to watch season two), the best Thai food in Portland, Oregon, the paper dolls I scored on eBay and Oh My Goodness You Won't Believe The Cute Thing The Babies Did Today. And did I mention my oldest son has Down syndrome? And that it's honestly (most days) no big deal?


If that's the kind of blog you're looking for? Then you've come to the right place.


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Fail Again: Make-up

Another fail.

I SO feel that I'm not doing my part in "31 for 21" this year to increase/promote Down syndrome awareness. Sigh.

This year has been hard. The only time I have to blog is at the end of the day when everyone is in bed and I have to say that by then? I am just done. DONE.

The babies have colds again. I think the culprits are the big kids as I don't remember any of my other infants being this sick, this often, this young. I shouldn't be surprised as Leo goes straight from the bus to kissing and hugging his babies. Last night the babies tag-teamed and I feel like I was awake about every forty-five minutes. It was ugly.

Let's change the subject. What about this?

A seven year old boy who is WAY more typical than not. Lives to annoy his little sister while at the same time adoring her. Loves to play in the back yard, preferably in the dirt. Loves Legos, all things related to "Toy Story" and Super Heroes. Has also been known to rock a princess dress too (quite proudly).

He has a couple of new, hilarious moves. If he loves something (i.e. a particularly fabulous piece of cheese pizza) he falls on the ground, throws his thumb up in the air (in a "thumbs up" position) and says: "I'm OK!" (Translation: he fainted from the fabulousness.)

He's also cracking jokes. Or, his version of a joke. He asks for orange juice at dinner even though he knows full well we only have orange juice at breakfast. "Mommy! Pretend!" he says in his most exasperated tone, when I remind him of the no orange juice rule.

This boy surprises me almost every day, much as he has from the very beginning.

Oh, Right. That.

Leo pushes the boundaries, even in his sleep.

You may have noticed a rather glaring absence in my posts lately.

Down syndrome.

Right. I haven't said much about it, have I? In honor of "31 for 21" I am...apparently NOT talking about the good old 21.

Obviously, the arrival of two babies has overshadowed a lot lately. I mean, let's face it. Cute baby picture posts are way easier than longish, heartfelt essays about what a major birth defect has meant to our family.

But I think there's more to the fact that this year I haven't been writing about Down syndrome.

It's that I'm not sure what to say anymore.

I'm obviously over the shock. I'm not grieving Down syndrome anymore. I love my boy and he is who is he is. I don't know him any other way than having Down syndrome. His little quirks? Hates haircuts, loves to love, fancies scrambled eggs and grapes, Ellie, Lucy and Harry above all else: Who knows if they are because of Down syndrome or just because. Everything happens for a reason and at the same time? I also think that, as my dad says, nothing happens for any reason at all.

Here's a little Down syndrome story from today. Ellie and I went to the mall to get some needed items for Leo's Halloween costume. We had a few extra minutes before we had to go home to meet Leo's bus, so we stopped to play at the indoor playground. There was a toddler there, big for his age to not be walking and my "special needs" radar was up. Something was just not quite "right" with this little boy. I examined his profile and noticed he had the telltale flat head (one of the traits of Down syndrome).

And then it dawned on me that it was hard for me to tell if he had Down syndrome because to me, Down syndrome is "normal." I see it every day in Leo, and so I sort of feel like I don't see it at all, if that makes sense.

Some Cuteness and It's Too Early For This

Lucy, the Crazy Tongue Wagger. The girl loves her new-found tongue.

Also, Ellie and I both have strep. Harry does not (adding to my list of Things That Are Pathetic: watching a four month old get a strep test). Poor guy didn't know what hit him. He has a raspy, too many Marlboros smoker's cough, which is why the doctor decided to test him. But no strep.

So here I sit again, amongst unfolded clean laundry. Only tonight, I'm too tired and feeling too lousy to even care. So that's progress, I guess.

21 Things About Today (part one)

1. Ellie went to PreK today. By the time I get her there and pick her up she's at school for about three and a half hours. That's considered a "half-day." Fastest three and half hours of my day.

2. Lucy found her tongue today. I didn't know it was possible to smile and stick your tongue out but wow. Cuteness.

3. I'm pretty certain I have strep throat. Really hoping if I do that I'm the only one who has it. Going to the doctor tomorrow.

4. The season finale of "Breaking Bad" was awesome. I just watched it. I'm not usually one for gore but that was pretty freaking cool.

5. The only thing I miss about Brooklyn is good take-out. We have two options here in suburban New Jersey. Pizza and Chinese. Not a huge fan of either (or at least bad versions of the two). In case you were wondering, we had bad Chinese tonight.

6. I ran out of dog food and made the dog brown basmati rice which (surprise!) didn't seem to do it for her. But if she barks and wakes up four children I cannot be trusted with what I might do. I will never forget to buy dog food again. She really wants some of this Chinese food. Even though it's bad.

7. Ellie and I went to Saks Fifth Avenue today to return something (not a place I frequent, believe me, but I had a gift card) and Ellie wanted me to buy purple glittery Christian Louboutin platform heels. They were $425. I was dressed a little shlubby (at least for Saks standards) but the salespeople were very nice to us, I think, because the babies were putting on a cute show.

8. I hate homework. Leo used to do his homework at after care and word has it, he was a good sport about it. Of course he was. He saves all of his antics for us. Since I'm home on maternity leave right now, we do it as soon as he gets home (to get it out of the way). He comes off the bus all smiley and happy and then he gets in the door and remembers homework and becomes grumpy. We get through it, but it's not always pretty. The fact that the babies are usually flirting with witching hour during homework time does not help our cause either.

9. We moved the babies out of our room last week and I have to say it is so wonderfully awesome to have our bedroom back. It feels just a little bit normal again: we can read, watch TV, fold laundry, without tiptoeing around (nursery tour to come once I can get some good photos).

10. I have to fill out this Vineland Adaptive Behavior Scales Parent Rating Form for Leo's upcoming school evaluation and oh I am procrastinating. Hate that thing. Although, some of the questions are sort of funny: "[does the student] understand that others do not know his thoughts unless he or she says them." I have got to make time for this form. Did I mention it takes me seemingly forever these days to accomplish a single task? Oh look, I can't even make it to twenty-one. To be continued.

Fail Recovery

I missed posting yesterday. I hate that I missed (I'm a little compulsive about promises) but I just didn't have it in me at the end of the day. I felt a little down. More than spent. Just didn't feel like getting on the computer and what? Whining? Boring.

But today was a new day. A much better day. I'm almost always heartened by how much better things tend to look in the morning. The house smells like coffee, the big kids are fresh off a good night's sleep (usually), the babies tend to take nice little morning naps and fifty percent of them wake up smiling and laughing.


These are oldish pictures of the babies. They're about two months old here. Let's just say they don't sleep quite as much now during the day. But they are way more smiley.

Right now Leo and Ellie are up too late but they're in their respective beds just laughing and giggling. Chatting. I really couldn't ask for more.

Life's a little hard right now, but it's good.

First Cop-Out

This photo of Lucy has nothing to do with this post, just some random cuteness to spice up my lame cop-out.

I'm spent. I have nothing interesting to say. I just had a big bowl of pasta and a brownie and my body is quivering with tiredness and it does at the end of every day, these days. Boring.

The good news is, my standards are plummeting. There are several baskets of unfolded (but clean!) laundry around me and I. Just. Can't. Bring. Myself. To. Fold. Them.

Tomorrow is another day.

Unadulterated Joy

Kind of cheating today with a picture post.

This photo was taken by my friend, the wonderful photographer Stephanie Willson (look her up if you're in the Tampa area!). She came to New Jersey in June, two weeks after the babies were born, all the way from Florida to do a newborn shoot. I will always be very grateful for this (and come to think of it I should post some of those pictures sometime).

But she also took this wonderful picture of Leo, which in my mind, perfectly sums up his spirit. Most every day a joyful display like this comes out, and like most kids, it doesn't take much. But I think it's fair to say that Leo's appreciation of the every day goes way above most other people. A new tennis ball to throw to the dog, a favorite brand of cheese crackers to snack on while grocery shopping with Mommy, and yes, a new pool for the backyard (see above). Leo seems to feel things more intensely than anyone else I've ever known (and this goes for happiness as well as sadness). Is it that mysterious extra chromosome? Who knows. But as my mom would have said, when he is good, he is very, very good. Of course he can drive you bonkers when he gets in one of his moods, but that smile? That laugh? That jumping up and down display of joy when things are going his way?

Sometimes, you can try really hard to be in a bad mood around Leo. But he just won't let you.

Giving it the Old 31 for 21 Try

I'm terrified I'm going to screw this one up, but I've done "31 for 21" for the past three years. It feels sacreligious to not at least try this year. I'm just a little busier than usual but I'm also a perfectionist who likes to write, so.

Some of the pieces I'm most proud of on this blog (like this one, this one, this one, and this one) were written as part of "31 for 21." I can't promise I'll be up to form this time around (I'm looking at you Harry and Lucy) but I think it's a wonderful cause and a great exercise.

Let's do this!

It Was Halloween. You'll Just Have to Trust Me.

As much as I would love to regale you with adorable photos of our Halloween (consisting of a neighborhood Halloween parade straight of out Norman Rockwell followed by trick or treating on our street on a blustery evening with the backdrop of an exquisite autumn sky), I cannot.

I forgot to put the memory card back into my camera.

I KNOW!

Oh well. You couldn't take photos of Ellie squealling "Mommy I'm having fun! I LIKE trick or treating!" No, but snapshots of those little moments are sealed in my mind forever, thankfully. And there will always be this.

Leo still hasn't mastered "Trick or Treat," preferring to greet his candy bearers with an enthusiastic "Happy Halloween!"

Nobody seemed to mind.

In other news, we made it! 31 for 21!

I want to say how much I enjoyed finding some new blogs through this fun and worthwhile exercise and once again thank Tricia for orchestrating it all. I like to think with our combined tenacity and creativity we're making some kind of difference out there, in terms of raising awareness of Down syndrome.

And I think it's safe to say that blogs have saved me a little, saved my sanity at least. It goes without saying in our busy little lives that sometimes it can feel like you're the "Only One." But I think we can all agree that is the farthest thing from the truth.

We're all in this together.

Thanks for following along this month and I hope you'll stick around!

The Fish Makes Progress

Leo today, "helping" me rake. This boy could eat a Popsicle outside in January, I swear (and mark my words, he'll try to).

Leo did SO well at swim class today. I haven't talked about it much here because, well, it's been a little rough at times. It's his first "independent" class in that there is no Mama or Mommy in the pool. Leo is a fish and LOVES the water but I think it's been a little shocking to him to be in there without one of us. Also? They work him hard in this class. He swims the length of the pool and uses a tiny floating noodle for support which means he's essentially treading water for forty-five minutes. But every single veteran mom I've talked to at this particular class says her child has learned to swim here so hey, that's good enough for me.

The class is for kids with special needs and each child is assigned a 1:1 aide. The last two classes he's had wonderful aides (they're all volunteers). Today he was paired with a father-daughter team which Leo adored. Have I mentioned he seems to have a thing for teenage girls? He hugged and kissed (or at least tried to) Miss Alexandra at the end of the class.

I watch Leo the whole time through a little room off the pool. I actually think it's the lifeguard lounge but no one has said a word about it being a problem. I have to, otherwise Leo will see me sitting on the sidelines and either cry or try to escape to me. But if I'm not there? Out of sight out of mind, it seems (though I'm sure that's not really the case).

Leo does better each week and today, did great the first thirty minutes. After that, I honestly think he just got tired (it's technically an hour class but once everyone gets in the pool it's really more like forty-five minutes, still pretty long for a six year old though, when you think about it). So after those thirty minutes in the pool today he did what he's prone to do, which is climb out of the water, sit on the edge with his arms firmly crossed and a stubborn "No way I'm DONE" look about him.

His aide today, Leon's dad (another member of the Club 47) was pitch perfect with Leo. I watched as he talked to him (couldn't hear what he was saying but there was obvious negotiation going on). Leo still shook his head and adamant NO. Then Leon's dad pointed to the rainbow striped beach ball that was bobbing by and Leo's eyes lit up. Yesss. Now we were back in business and Leo slid effortlessly back in the pool. They then proceeded to practice swimming toward the ball and Leo dog paddled toward it and it was all kinds of wonderful.

After class I thanked Leon's dad profusely and commented on how amazing he was with Leo.

"Oh I have a bit of experience with the stubbornness," he laughed, giving me a knowing look.

Sometimes? Sometimes it's just such a relief to be around people who GET IT.

Halloween Begins: Parade at Leo's School

I feel like it was just last week that it was last Halloween. This year I took Ellie to the parade at Leo's school for the first time and she loved it (what's not to love about five hundred "big kids" all dressed up?).


Aferwards we joined Leo in his class for a party. Obviously they take their celebrating very seriously.

Today the kids were precious and adorable and I thought what I think often, which is that this is all going by entirely too fast.