A Merry Little Christmas

Have yourself a merry little Christmas*

Let your heart be light

Next year all our troubles will be out of sight

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Make the yule-tide gay

Next year all our troubles will be miles away

Once again, as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore

Faithful friends who were dear to us



Will be near to us once more



Someday soon we all will be together

If the fates allow



Until then we'll have to muddle through, somehow

So have yourself a merry little Christmas now

*(Words by by Ralph Blane and Hugh Martin)

"Happiness, not in another place, but this place...not for another hour, but this hour."
---Walt Whitman


Happy Holidays, to you and yours! Peace, Joy and Love in 2014.



Oh and by the way, in case you haven't recently listened to the BEST CHRISTMAS SONG EVER, The End, hands down, no question, here you go. You're welcome and enjoy.

Report Card

I've been pretty quiet about Leo's academic life this year. Not because it's been bad or anything to be ashamed of, more that it's been a little uncertain. That, and he's getting older and I'm feeling a bit more self-conscious about blabbing all the details of his life all over the Internet. But allow me to blab a little, because I think there's something important here.

Earlier in the year there was some concern on the part of some of the members of Leo's "Team" (service coordinator (school psychologist) and teacher), about his placement and whether it was appropriate. Emails were exchanged, phone calls were made.

For the first time in his academic career, I dreaded Leo's IEP meeting. When the day finally arrived, a few days before Thanksgiving, it felt looong and tense. I fought back unhappy, uncomfortable tears a few times, scanning the stuffy, overheated room for a tissue box--don't all IEP meeting rooms contain tissue boxes?--with none to be found. In the past, all my IEP tears had been happy, choked-up-with-pride, emotional ones.

I'll be the first to admit it: We've been very lucky to this point. Leo's IEP meetings have been veritable love-fests. Leo is so wonderful. Leo is such a hard worker. He's always clicked with his teachers, who've never had anything but good things to say about him (believe me, I've pestered them for the bad stuff: Behavior? Backtalk? Nope. Lucky us he seems to have always saved all the not so fun stuff for home--to be fair, as many kids do).

The gist of it was, there were grumblings about moving him "back" to an old placement, to a classroom neither Erin or I felt was appropriate. His teacher was concerned that he was getting "frustrated" and she questioned whether it was the right setting for him.

Luckily, I was not completely blindsided by the Team's concerns, since Leo's teacher and I had spoken over the phone and via email a few weeks prior to the IEP meeting. But of course, since I'm me, I immediately panicked and shared what was going on with several friends of mine, experienced moms in the Down syndrome community.

And the words of one of my favorite "Down syndrome moms" rang true, and were exactly what I needed to hear:

"If I eliminated everything in my life that was frustrating, there wouldn't be much left."

Right? I mean, OK. He's frustrated. What kid isn't frustrated in school sometimes? What person isn't frustrated in the world sometimes? Welcome to me in third, fourth and fifth grade math (well, pretty much my entire math career, but that's another post). The key is figuring out ways to help him. Put supports in place. Investigate where he's struggling and what can be done to assist him (without of course helping him too much). To immediately send him to another class just felt way too easy. It's not that I don't want him to succeed, of course I do. But I also want him to be challenged and not immediately freak out if, for the first time in his life, he's not doing everything he's supposed to be doing at every single moment.

So that's what I told the Team.

"If I eliminated everything in my life that was frustrating, there wouldn't be much left. It needs to be OK for him to get a little frustrated. But let's try to help him succeed."

I just feel like there is this rampant tendency to put kids with special needs under this incredibly unfair microscope. If they don't quickly and quietly conform to exactly what's expected of them, they're apt to get a One Way ticket to Plan B or C or just Something Else, something that tends to also be easier for the Team. Meanwhile, a typical kid would be given the room to screw up a little, to find their way.

And you know what? I feel like the Team heard me. And I think they came around to agreeing with me. One person noted the importance of the social component in Leo's current placement. Another pointed out that the "other" placement would be a huge step backwards for Leo in several subjects.

Don't get me wrong. I am not in denial that Leo needs extra help. I am not about putting him in a certain class for "appearances." And if the time comes, I'll be happy to acknowledge he's in the wrong place. But in my heart of hearts, I do not believe that was the case here.

Things weren't (and aren't) perfect over night. There were several notes back and forth about missing homework (Leo needs someone to help him remember to pack all of his homework at the end of the day). I'm still worried about how hard it can be for him to focus and how easily distracted he is. A big concern has been math and how he's had a difficult time retaining information (he'll learn it and then seems to forget it a few weeks later). 

But this came home the week after Thanksgiving:

And you can imagine my relief when I opened Leo's report card last week and read this, from his teacher:

"Leo is adjusting well to the rigorous academic demands of fourth grade…He is a happy boy, never complains and tries his best at all times. You should be very proud of him. I know I am!"



Who knows what tomorrow, or next month or next year will bring (although we did determine his placement for fifth grade--GULP--and I feel good about it).

And for now, I'm back to happy tears.

 

First Snow Storm and Christmas Cookies: Nailed It!

Saturday was our first "real" snow of the season. Thank goodness it happened on a weekend when we could enjoy it and not worry about trying to get to work or how we'd manage to pick up big kids at school in the snow with two toddlers in tow.



Ellie fulfilled a lifelong dream of finally ice skating.

Sort of.


This is so often how it goes. Ellie, Leo and Lucy plotting something (in this case a rousing snow ball fight) while Harry says "You know what? I'm gonna just go over here and play with my helicopter thankyouverymuch."


A yard full of snow to play with, half a dozen kid vehicles and she has to stand On Top of Him. This really sums it up (don't worry, the second I managed to snap this, I rescued Harry from her clutches).

Regarding the snow: Let's file this one under "Reason 979 why Big Kids Rock." Can I just say how fabulous it is to have older kids who can put on their own snow boots (mostly) and gloves and hats and coats? I really had forgotten how maddening it is to try and put miniature gloves on tiny, uncooperative fingers. And then they look at you all cold and pink and furious when they take their gloves off and they can't figure out why it feels like their fingers are going to snap off.


See? No gloves on this one. Seconds after this shot was taken she would announce that her hands were cold and "Where are my mittens?" (over there in the snow where you pulled them off in a moment of fury, Lou).

At some point in the middle of Saturday's snow storm I found myself saying, Let's make Christmas cookies! Because, clearly I've lost my mind.


Harry gave the unbaked cookies a good poke and promptly sampled some raw dough. Whoops!

I grew up making these cookies for the big Christmas Eve celebration with my step mom's family. This is the first time I was able to pull it off. It's not like it's so hard, it just takes planning, as does pretty much everything in our life. I had a minor freak out in the beginning when the dough was very sticky and none of the cutters were working but then something clicked toward the middle/end, sort of like how the first few pancakes in a batch are always terrible? Maybe it had to do with the dough temperature or something. Regardless, we rallied and they came as close to perfect as something in our house can come.

My stepmom sent me the recipe, which is from The Joy of Cooking (by the way, you can reduce the sugar to 1/2 cup--they are still plenty sweet and if you frost them like we did, they are definitely sweet enough).



These cookies actually taste really good (I know, just what we all need this time of year, more cookies that taste good). But so often Christmas cookies look good but end up tasting...not so much. Anyway, fair warning: Delicious buttery cookies.



At one point, all four were doing the same activity, which always warms my heart. Now that the twins are getting a little older, that's happening more and more and it makes me soooo happy.



OK, so Harry might have also been watching "Star Wars" and eating all of the cookies he was supposed to be decorating.

No matter.

The Return of Harrystoptouchingthelights

WHEN will I ever learn?

The fastest way to make a liar out of yourself? Announce something to the Internet.


Sidenote: I baked oatmeal chocolate chip cookies the other day. I'm sure the Internet will be shocked to learn that the babies like cookies. A lot.

Anyway, remember how I was saying I thought Toddler Mission: Destroy The Christmas Tree might be over and that Harry didn't seem all that interested in the tree this year? (You might remember that last year, Harry and the tree had quite the "thing" going on).

Scratch that.

When I came home from work yesterday our nanny reported that Harry had "a terrible day with the tree." Which, I mean, first of all, you have to laugh at that sentence.


Why yes, that's Harry. With a purloined Thomas ornament. Of course

But back to Harry. Yesterday he reportedly pulled half the lights off the tree (which weren't in great shape to begin with, believe me). He also took a handful of ornaments from the tree and ran away, giggling. A variation of these events went on all day, apparently.

Of course I gave Harry a stern talking to about the situation. He responded by smiling and laughing at me.


Ah, Playdoh. Soooo much more constructive than Christmas Tree Pillaging.

Of course I'm laughing too. I mean think about it. A giant tree is in OUR HOUSE. It's covered with tiny, shiny lights and new, interesting, pretty and fun toy-like objects (see above: Thomas ornaments). Of COURSE he wants to touch it all the live long day. How do you explain the sudden appearance of a giant, toy covered tree in the house of a busy, inquisitive two and a half year old?

Luckily for Harry, we're not gunning for Best, Most Perfect Christmas Tree Ever. Not even close.

This morning, after I plugged in the lights (it's the first thing I do this time of year, right after I make a pot of coffee-there's nothing like a dark house and the cold blue-light of early morning and the instant cheer of twinkling white lights) I stopped and looked at the tree. Ellie was by my side and she and I studied the giant gaping hole where Harry had pulled lights yesterday. Fixing them would involve taking all the ornaments down from a large section and then rehanging the lights and then putting back all the ornaments. Hypothetically this could happen. You know, in my quiet moments, of which there are so many.

"What do you think of the tree? I asked Ellie. "Harry did quite a number on it didn't he? Do you think it's looks bad?"

She paused a moment and looked at the tree sideways. "Well. Maybe a little bad."



We love you, Harry. We really, truly do. And we're glad you love your tree so much.

Merry and Bright

The tree is up.

Please ignore the Giant Gaping Hole in the middle of the tree. We had a slight light malfunction. Don't ask. I'm just pretty proud that it's still standing and still holding most of the ornaments that were placed on it Saturday afternoon. Might we be exiting the stage of destruction? I have only once uttered the words "Harrystoptouchingthelights," (though to be fair, I have had to demand that he not stand on the end table and grab ornaments). Yeah, maybe we're not quite finished with the stage of destruction after all.

Shortly after I snapped the above photo, Ellie asked if we could snuggle on the couch and drink hot chocolate and then could I tell her about "Christmases long ago?"

You really can't make this stuff up (This, by the way, I've decided should be our family motto and I want it as my epitaph).

I think it's fair to see we are all feeling the spirit. When we told the kids a few days before the weekend that we'd be getting the Christmas tree, Ellie began her usual countdown of "Today is four days until we get the tree!" and then "Today is three days…" Saturday morning around 6:30 a.m. I found the words "Get it" ominously scrawled on the dry erase board in the kitchen, next to a drawing of a, you guessed it, a Christmas tree.

Saturday morning we took the kids to a gingerbread house making party at Ellie's old preschool.

Candy apparently makes Lucy itchy.


And hungry. Look at her. So sly! She couldn't quite believe her good luck. Unlimited Fruity Pebbles? For real?

Toddlers making gingerbread houses. Oy. Talk about herding cats. I was impressed with Lucy actually. She has quite the attention span for crafts. Or maybe she just likes sweets. Let it be known Saturday was the day she discovered chocolate covered marshmallow snowmen. She's a fan.


And if making gingerbread houses wasn't enough, Saturday afternoon while the babies napped, the big kids and I ventured out in the cold to the Frelinghuysen Arboretum to see the Gingerbread Wonderland.


Everyone was feeling especially lovey-dovey that day. I promise I didn't even have to pay Leo to snap this shot-he voluntarily threw his little arm around Ellie.


"Take my picture Mommy!"


And for the piece de resistance, Grandma Jerry's Christmas dresses arrived on Saturday afternoon. Well. Two little girls could not have been happier. They put the dresses on immediately and twirled all over the house. "I want someone who isn't in my family to see me," Ellie squealed. Lucy demanded to wear hers to Costco the next morning.

Who was I to say no?

All "Frozen," All the Time

We are, shall we say, a tad obsessed at the moment. 

With "Frozen."

Have you seen it yet? The big kids and I went last weekend. I broke the news that we'd be going around last Thursday and anticipation began mounting immediately. 

Last Sunday morning, around 7:00 a.m. Ellie started asking to watch [YouTube] videos of all the songs from the movie. I'm not sure two people have been more excited to see a movie, ever. Ellie also got dressed (at 6:30 on a Sunday) without being asked to (unprecedented) and went to bed the night before, exclaiming "Tomorrow is the day I get to see Frozen!

See? A little excited.

What can I say? The movie has it all. First of all, it's absolutely stunning visually. It's warm (which might be surprising, given the, ahem, title), it's funny, it's sweet, it's sad and it's poignant. Without giving away anything, there was also a nice and refreshing twist on the whole "Find a prince and everything will be Fine" which I think we can all agree we are finished with.

And did I mention the incredible music? We started downloading songs from the soundtrack in the parking lot of the theater after the movie was over. Wait, I lied. I bought the "theme" the day before and the big kids and I listened to it in the car on the way to getting haircuts on Saturday afternoon (to get them in the mood for the movie because, clearly that was needed). Ha.

Ellie asks to listen to the soundtrack in the car on the way to school. Before I've put the key in the ignition. 

She calls upstairs while I'm getting dressed in the morning to "bring my phone downstairs" so she can listen to "Frozen."

And perhaps one of my favorite moments  came last night when she sang herself to sleep. With songs from "Frozen." I kid you not. 

Ellie got a little set of figures of characters from the movie for Hanukkah and that was a huge hit--such a huge hit that Leo burst into tears when he didn't get the same set. Oops. (When am I going to learn that I should always just buy two of everything--and soon enough, I guess, four). Oy.

Last night Ellie and Leo spent their post-dinner/bath time sketching each of the characters from the movie. Before that, Ellie built a little "stage" for them from a small discarded box. And when I was upstairs putting the twins to bed, Leo and Ellie took it upon themselves to stand on chairs and get the tin foil from the top shelf above the refrigerator (you know, tin foil = ice= "Frozen"). The kitchen table looked like a craft room had exploded (scissors, tape, construction paper) and in the background, the music from the soundtrack blared: 

"Let it go, let it go…Let the storm rage on. The cold never bothered me anyway."

This is the best song. I mean. Idina Menzel? Are you kidding me? I pretty much have it on repeat. And I'm using it to further my brainwashing of Ellie into full-blown Broadway show tune nerdom: I told her she's one of the witches from "Wicked" (which Ellie is very interested in after seeing a poster for it when we were in the city and hearing one of the songs from the show on the "Glee" soundtrack).

But on to the art. I think the Disney animators would be proud, don't you?

Olaf, the snowman.

Olaf, the sun loving snow man, By Leo.

By Ellie.

Sven, the reindeer.

Sven, by Leo. 

When we first started listening to the music, Lucy, in her usual, characteristically oppositional manner screamed "NO FROZEN!"

But we won her over soon enough. The music is irresistible, even to an opinionated two-year-old. Now we are all dancing around to "Fixer Upper" and Lucy is demanding that I "Dip her."

It's not that often that the kids and I are "into" the same things, but you know, DISNEY. They know how to do it (there's a reason plenty of adults without children visit the Disney theme parks). I am, however,  pretty sure I'm one of the few adults rocking out to the "Frozen" soundtrack during their morning commute (true story). Yup, I'm a proud and self-proclaimed fruit ball, what can I say. 

And this morning, on my way to work I may have stopped at the Disney store on the way to my office to look at the "Frozen" paraphernalia again (Hanukkah is over and Christmas is coming!). I may have had my headphones on and switched them off, only to realize that the Frozen soundtrack was also playing in the store. Pfew! I didn't have to miss a moment of "Frozen." 

We're having fun. And I'm not sure who's enjoying all this more, the kids, or me. 

And Just Like That, Two Holidays (Almost) Down: The Epic Thanksgivukah Post

Well, nothing like Thanksgivukah to really rush you right through the year, right? Sheesh! And then I panicked a little when I looked at the calendar this morning and realized we only have three weekends until Christmas.

Wait, WHAT?

But in the spirit of Living in the Moment:

We lit the candles the first night (which fell the night before Thanksgiving, making Thanksgiving technically the first "day" of Hanukkah. Leave it to the Jews to make it confusing, believe me). And this is what happened. It's a little hard to make out Lucy's expression. But I think you get the idea.



I definitely could not have predicted Lucy's reaction to the menorah in all its glory. This year there was a lot less wonder and awe and a lot more screeching, all from Lucy who demanded to "Get down!" so she could "Blow out the candles and sing Happy Birthday!"

Let's contrast the above photo with the one below (from last year). Such sweet darlings, right?



Before I got all Pity Party about how much harder everything is lately in the land of Twin Two Year Olds, I recalled this little gem:


Ellie was the exact age that the twins are right now. I think you get the idea.

Someone is always mad about something.

Ha ha ha. Kidding.

Mostly.

Back to 2013: Everyone eventually (mostly) calmed down and we finished lighting the candles.

Earlier in the day, I attended Ellie's first grade thanksgiving "feast" and then picked her up from school and we did a bit of shopping for our feast.


Along the way, we were excited to see all the Hanukkah displays. You know those giant blow-up holiday decorations you see all over the suburbs? They now make Hanukkah versions (and no this is not necessarily an endorsement, just an observation). And you know, I've lived in the New York/New Jersey area for over thirteen years and this kind of sight still slays me. Growing up, I always felt like the odd man out who celebrated Hanukkah and now it's just the norm (this photo was snapped at Bed Bath & Beyond).

Ellie and I had such a fun afternoon that Thanksgiving Eve/first night of Hanukkah. Have I mentioned how much I'm enjoying age six? Oh sure she still has her unreasonable moments but she is just maturing so nicely, has such a clever sense of humor and fun disposition. Being out with her is almost like being with a friend-a young, short friend. Anyway, I think you get the picture. Her thoughtfulness really impresses me too.

To wit: We spent a good amount of time in the Target toy aisles trolling for last minute Hanukkah items for her siblings and she genuinely wanted to get everyone something they would like. She would have stayed there all afternoon shopping for other people if I'd let her. Only once or twice did she point to something she might like, but it was very casual and off-hand and not at all insistent or whiney or Buymethatrightnow!

And thank goodness I did have Ellie with me because I am pathologically indecisive and pretty much a horrific shopper. I over think everything. Ellie however, is no-nonsense and was full of wonderful suggestions about Matchbox cars (Harry) and Spiderman action figures (Leo). Lucy is the real question mark this year, as she doesn't really play with toys as much as she plays with people. And since we all know she's going to steal anything Harry likes, maybe I should just get two of everything I get Harry and call it a day? (Kidding of course.)

Not until we were driving home did Ellie wonder aloud if she was getting a Hanukkah present. Darn it! I KNEW there was something I forgot to do! I teased, smiling at her playfully in the rear view mirror. She played along. She knew better.


Up went the decorations this weekend, and the return of Harrystoptouchingthelights!


Thanksgiving Day dawned early as they always do. It quickly turned loud and crazy (don't be fooled by this relatively calm scene).


I got it in my head to make a Toll House Pie this year (it's basically just a giant chocolate chip cookie inside a pie, how can you go wrong?). Ellie heard the words "chocolate chip" and was immediately on board.


Best Thanksgiving Pie. Ever. The End.




I always look forward to watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and this year did not disappoint (yes, that's a few of us watching the parade, in case you were wondering-you can see they're all riveted, although I also think I managed to catch it during a commercial (of which there were many). But really, each year the kids seem to be more and more interested in the actual parade which is fun. Someday, we will all go.


Ellie set the table.


The Meal. The great Thanksivukah mash-up.


Surveying the spread. Harry gave those mashed potatoes a good poke.

Right before the meal, we went around the table and asked everyone to say what they were thankful for. With no prompting whatsoever, Harry said he was thankful for Lucy and then Lucy said she was thankful for Harry. And you know what? It really doesn't get any better than that.


And here is something else to be thankful for. A cheese plate from one of New York City's finest restaurants, eaten in the comfort of my own home. In fact, I think I was in my pajamas when I finally got around to enjoying this little beauty. Talk about grateful.

There are so many things to be grateful for this year: Health, happiness, our extended family, friends, our home and of course a wonderful family of my own that I never in a million years imagined having. They overwhelm me every day, and yet they bring me more joy than I've ever known, to say nothing of all the laughter. Those are fair trade-offs to me.



Here's hoping your Thanksgiving (or Thanksgivakuh) was a great one and that you have plenty to be thankful for too. Wishing you a holiday season full of light and love.