Full Circle or "I Want to Help People"

It took years--YEARS for me to feel safe letting Leo walk in a parking lot without holding my hand, to leave the front door unlocked with him playing in the living room or mudroom or better yet--the FRONT YARD (fence-less) unattended.

I didn't think the day would ever come that I would go to a birthday party with him and not worry the whole time about where all the entrances and exits were, or that I wouldn't wait for the call to come from school saying he had vanished, walked out of a classroom and down the street, never to be heard from again.



And now, he's helping children cross the street. Of course with some supervision. But still! Talk about Full Circle.

Leo first mentioned safety patrol back in the fall. I admit, I dropped the ball. I don't recall seeing a form or application about it come home school, but it may have. I meant to ask his teacher about it but I forgot. Last week the application arrived in his homework folder, front and center, along with a note from Mrs. W: "Leo wants to be on Safety Patrol. Please have him fill out this application and return on Monday."

OK then.

This afternoon, Leo pulled the the neon yellow Safety Patrol sash out of his backpack as though it was a gold medal from the summer games. "My dream came true!" he exclaimed, practically vibrating with joy and pride.

It's no secret Leo loves to help people. If you have as much as a hang-nail he will lovingly prepare an ice pack (he prefers ice cubes wrapped in paper towels--don't ask) and present you with an assortment of Hello Kitty, Buzz Lightyear and Tinkerbell Band-Aids. He will rub your back and prop you up on pillows and announce, "I want to help people."

Erin and I were talking this weekend about how the perfect job would be something in a nurturing field--who knows-maybe a hospital or nursing home. As long as he's happy, and fulfilled--that's all we care about.

Safety Patrol seems like a pretty great start.

December Days (And Nights)

Happy 2015 to all. My days of commemorating Christmas in a timely manner and writing an eloquent new year send off are apparently on hold for the time being. But I hope you won't lose patience with me and forget about us. Someday I will be eloquent and timely, but now is not that time.

The kids are back to school after a lovely, noisy, messy, hilarious never-a-dull-moment winter break (what's that you say? You can hear me shrieking with glee all the way from New Jersey?).

Of course I joke. As my dad is fond of saying, "All good things must come to an end." There is only so much familytogetherness and staying up late to watch "Grease" and eating as many M&Ms a little person (and her parents) can take before we all run screaming for 8:00 p.m. bedtimes and wheat grass (probably no wheat grass for the kids).

But before that, there was December. Blissful, hopeful, sparkly, glittery, twinkly, all-wrapped-up in teachers' gifts and homemade chocolate oatmeal cookies and holiday school luncheons and Santa visits and staying in our pajamas all day long. Because we could, December.


This visit to Santa was hard-won. I thought I was so clever to wait until late in the season to take them (less crowds) but we still managed to arrive while the Big Guy was on break. Which meant tacking on an extra fifteen minutes to our wait. Which was totally fine of course since three year olds LOVE to wait in line (said no one never). Also? Super grouchy Santa. Notice how no one is sitting on his lap? Luckily I don't think the kids noticed, but what I noticed is, it's no longer about parking for a spell on Santa's knee and casually chatting with him and telling him what you want. It's about, what size photo package would you like, ma'am? Click. Next. Oh well. We'll still be back next year. I finally got organized and framed all the Santa pics from over the years and it's fun to see the progression (and a little terrifying to see how much bigger everyone is from year to year). I'm big on tradition, even if it does sometimes come with a dose of crabby.


Hanukkah came close to Christmas this year, which is always a treat (although it still snuck up on me as it always does and I was the crazy woman shopping at Target on Hanukkah morning, hysterically throwing "Frozen" socks and Transformers and coloring books and Spiderman tooth brushes in  my cart). Speaking of gifts, the twins also now think that the custom is to get Hanukkah gifts in the morning--due to a combination of their early bedtime and the fact that since they would surely would surely want to play with whatever gift they got, I saved their presents for the morning. Let's just say they caught on to this right quick and it took a full week after Hanukkah was over for Harry to stop greeting me with "I want to go downstairs and get my Hanukkah present" every morning.



This was the first year that big kids lit candles "by their own" (as Lucy would say), and the first year that the twins allowed the candles to stay lit (you may recall last year, when Lucy insisted on singing "Happy Birthday" and was furious when I wouldn't allow her to blow them out). This year Ellie and Leo also came close to memorizing the Hanukkah blessing.


Once upon a time, Leo's school hosted an annual "holiday lunch" for students and parents. It's been a few years since they held one but I was happy to learn it was back on for this year. Harry was already home from school by lunch time so Dudes in Holiday Sweaters, it was.


There were also preschool holiday concerts (with the requisite Santa visit with the suddenly "shy" Lucy).

There were painted Christmas cookies (edible egg wash).

And more cookies.


There were cards sent home from school that made my heart swell and my eyes tear (see above, from Leo): "I love our family." SOB.

Right before Christmas (two days before winter break) Ellie was felled by an atrocious stomach bug (is there such a thing as a non-atrocious stomach bug?) that she was kind enough to give me as an early Christmas gift. This made the last minute Christmas crunch (teacher gifts, wrapping of and delivering of said teacher gifts), shopping, meal prepping quite, um, challenging?


Fortunately, I was much better by Christmas Eve and able to mostly participate in one of my favorite activities, which is staying up late, watching the beloved "It's a Wonderful Life" and wrapping ALL the Christmas presents with Erin. Usually this is accompanied by Bailey's, but with my body still not being at 100 percent, I skipped it this year. I KNOW.


We were busy, busy elves.


Christmas dawned early (as it does every day). Within seconds the living room was a wrapping paper battlefield (note to self: we need a better Unwrap the Christmas Presents System. Anyone have any recs for "big" families and small, impatient children?). The bouche de Noel (see above) didn't fair much better than the presents.


Later in the day, my trusty assistants and I (eager to test-drive new gifts) fetched Chinese takeout (Nobody felt like cooking and I hardly felt like eating so it was perfect).


As night fell, we did something I'm sure no other family in the world did on Christmas (see above). PS., if you didn't know already? Leo IS Elsa (he doesn't allow anyone in the room to speak when he performs "Let it Go" alongside her).


Ellie stayed up late on Christmas night painting (with a new easel and paint set from Grandma Jerry).


Lucy asked to bring "just a few" of her gifts to bed.


Harry fell asleep with one of his favorite presents (that was of course, actually Leo's).


And it was, the Best Christmas Ever.

Greetings From a Very Grateful "Fifth Wheel"

Yes, this already happened. We may be a little excited.

I refuse to let a whole month go by with no posting.

Time marches on. Fall is a blur. We've already had our first snow fall.


Did I mention we had our first ever (that I can recall) white Thanksgiving?


Speaking of Thanksgiving, its spoils (the crafts and cards that the children bring home) never get old: Oh Leo, how I love YOU!


We are still trying to figure out Leo's placement for next year. More on that to come. I am in deep, deep (did I mention DEEP?) denial that this year is his last year of elementary school which is another way of saying that next year means middle school. Change is hard (for me). Leo has had a good few months, just finished up his first season of soccer on a special needs team and he's excited about the upcoming basketball season (same league).



I am ridiculously late to posting just about everything that happened in the last few months--this picture feels like a million hundred years ago but Ellie had a blast playing soccer this season. She was incredibly spirited and excited and I think just genuinely loved being a part of a team. She cried when the season ended ("I won't get to see any of the girls on my team anymore!"). She's devouring books (Dan Gutman is her favorite author) and leading us all in holiday craft time (my favorite of late is the ornament she made today, composed of red and green construction paper  that said simply: "2014: I was 7.")


This girl continues to push every button of my soul, even buttons I didn't know I existed. She barrels through her little life as her twin brother does, but in a different way. I've never known someone who could be so gleeful as she was being insistent. Often it seems like there simply are no rules in Lucy's life. When I tell her not to do something I'm met with, "Oh MOMMY," and I can almost hear her cluck her little tongue at me as she goes about her merry way, fetching her loaf of bread and jar of blueberry jam out of the refrigerator even though it's only 9:30 am, not lunch time  or even snack time and LUCY PUT DOWN THE STEAK KNIFE PLEASE. She's in that challenging "Uppy MOMMY!" phase--it's stunning how she can be so needy and yet so mind-numbingly independent at the same time. Case in point: Tonight I marveled at her ability to put on her own pajamas--she meticulously layed them out on the green shag rug and slipped each miniature leg into a sleeve of knit lavender polka dot legging. "I did it ALL by myself!" She squealed proudly.

And then barely missing a beat, she announced she didn't want to wear those pajamas. She wanted her CHEETA pajamas. Because, of course!!

Sometimes when I get truly desperate, I remind myself that she just wants attention--there's a lot of competition in our house and everyone has a different tactic in getting theirs. And just when I think she is going to throw herself on the ground or burst into tears and refuse to acquiesce, she'll shrug her tiny shoulders and say Oh, OK. Three year olds. They are just little mysteries aren't they?


Harry holds court at the traditional (preschool) feast of chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese.

Harry is thriving at preschool. His language is exploding and his sentences are becoming more complex. "Mommy, I want to go downstairs and eat my dinner. Pick me up!" (This is his command to me every morning--by the way, dinner=breakfast). He continues to have a predilection for falling head first off of chairs and spilling the equivalent of buckets of seltzer (Oh HARRY! is still heard several times a day at our house), but it's partly how he barrels through his little life that makes him so irresistible. When he and Lucy are not having complicated conversations about who has which body part, and disagreeing about who ate all the Pirate Booty, they are telling us they love us. In the last few months Harry and Lucy have become confirmed playmates (they have been all along of course but the "parallel play" has officially graduated into more detailed, organized activities and scenarios. Ellie is often the ring leader: "Let's play Superheros! Let's play Evil Fairies! Let's play Snow Queens!"

I've been meaning to mention this for the last oh, three months (sorry, blog): More and more I feel like the most giant Fifth Wheel in the history of wheels around these four. They play and play and oh sure, fight and bicker and squable and someone bursts into tears and then someone yells and then someone apologizes. And then they go back to playing Snow Queens.


When they asked to do Play-Doh this weekend I cringed inwardly (it usually takes longer to set it up and clean up the mess than the time it takes to actually play it) but with no better ideas to offer (it was 29 degrees outside), I agreed. What followed was an unprecedented TWO HOUR PLAY-DOH MARATHON. I know.

It's amazing. And I never thought I would like being "left out" out of anything. But the other day I took a shower in the morning while they were all downstairs, just playing. I think it's fair to say I never thought that day would come. Life, it does go on.

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."

The Kickoff to the Lead Up: Or, Hello Candy Corn

It's officially my favorite time of year. Not only because the weather is fantastic, glorious and inspiring (oh, hi there, golden and ruby red leaves dancing against a stunning backdrop of crystal clear, cornflower blue sky,) but because it's the kickoff to the lead up to the Holiday Seasons (HalloweenThanksgivingChristmasHanukkah).

Plus? ALL the children are in school. For at least a few hours a day (more on that in a minute).

***

For some reason this year I got the urge to cook for Rosh Hashana (I can't remember the last time I did this and I've never done it with/for the kids).



I dug out my mom's old kugel recipe (see above) knowing full well I'd be the only one to eat it. Harry and Leo did take a few bites before pronouncing it "Yucky."


Oh well, their loss.

One item I know would be a hit was the challah, which I'd planned to pick up the day before Rosh Hashana at a nearby bakery. Of course, even though this errand was at the top of my to do list, I forgot, thus necessitating I take all four children out in the rain on Rosh Hashana morning to another nearby bakery that was open.


The shlep was worth it for this beautiful baby, which ended up being the main course for most of the diners (along with apples and honey and the dessert):


The "traditional" Rosh Hashana yellow sheet cake with vanilla buttercream frosting and sprinkles. Because even though I attempted to get them to try the kugel I knew full well NO ONE would eat honey cake. Does anyone like honey cake?

Ellie (who appears to have inherited the family holiday celebration gene) dove headfirst into the Rosh Hashana festivities. While she dipped Gala apples into a ramekin of honey, she wanted to know if we could make Rosh Hashana decorations, and announced that she "loved Rosh Hashana." You really do have to love the enthusiasm of a seven year old.


Speaking of enthusiasm, how about this for an outfit? Puppy dog fleece, Eiffel Tower capris and (not seen) a Hello Kitty tunic. Oh, to be three.




The month of September marked Lucy's first month of preschool and last month of part-time preschool. Oh she's still only going half days but she's now going FIVE days a week (up from three). It became pretty clear when, upon asking if she had school on Tuesday and Thursday mornings and she burst into tears, wailing Yes I AM! that the girl was ready to be in school every day. I was equally ready.

Here's an example of a recent conversation with the ever-ebullient Lucy. It was Monday morning at the breakfast table and she was talking about the upcoming Halloween party (which she was convinced was taking place that afternoon).

Lucy: And later I have a Halloween party!
Ellie: No you don't. Halloween isn't until the end of the month.
Erin: Oh Ellie, why are you trying to ruin her day?
Lucy: Yeah! I LOVE my day!


We had a few, last "just Mommy and Lucy mornings."



On the weekends she asks what time school is and will often insist on eating her lunch from out of her lunch box. Safe to say, she's enjoying her academic life. And for those wondering about her behavior? She is carrying on the family tradition of being a Completely Different Kid at school (read: well behaved). So there you go.

***

Decorating season is in full swing.


And by Decorating I don't just mean interiors. Why should the festivities be limited to the house? (And yes, those are my knee socks thankyouverymuch).



Ellie took it upon herself to start the fall art/craft projects though I'm pretty sure it was just an excuse to get out the candy corn.


Speaking of candy corn, I finally fulfilled a lifetime dream of completing a candy corn wreath (seen above and of course, at the beginning of this post because really, you just can't have too much candy corn wreath). I have to also say that this was completed with lots of instruction and moral support from the fabulous Amy.

I usually wait until at least October to haul out the Halloween decor but Ms. Holiday (Ellie) begged me to "bring out just a couple things" last weekend, so out came the Rubbermaid containers, along with the rest of the Halloween paraphernalia.



"Is this ALL we have?" asked a non-plussed Ellie, registering her deep dissatisfaction in the volume of Halloween trinkets in our possession (there's plenty more than what you see above, trust me). Seriously this girl's middle name is More Is More. So we might have to make a pit stop at the local Goodwill (my secret weapon for holiday decorating) this weekend. And we may also need to pick up a few more bags of candy corn.

September, So Far

Monday morning means the return of the pile o' packs.



Waiting. And waiting some more for Leo's bus. His afternoon bus? Is of course early. Twice last week I had to call to the bus to wait and I rounded the corner on the way home from picking Ellie up. "That's my kid!" I yelled, as I saw the bus begin to pull away. Ellie thought that was pretty funny.


Pretty much fulfilled a major parenting dream here: tiny, old school Sauconys.


"Look Mommy," said Ellie, "I'm dipping Harry!"


This is what a non-napping three old looks like. He falls asleep in anything with wheels (car, stroller). That day he stayed asleep when I went to get him out of the stroller. RARE. It was sweet to have a sleeping "baby" on my shoulder, even if it only lasted a few minutes.


Another view of a non-napping three year old. She pretty much just goes "splat" when her head hits the pillow at night.


I am unreasonably excited about the crisp mornings and cool evenings we've been enjoying since almost the first week of September. This of course means the return of knee sock season. Summers here can be horrific, winters are interminable, spring is two weeks long. But fall? Oh east coast fall I adore you.


Harry and Lucy Lebowitz, the old married couple spending their Golden Years at the Catskills (actually it's Harry and Lucy eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Goldfish for dinner while they watched Ellie at soccer practice).


I need a flow chart. Seriously. Every day is different (but all hail Friday, aka pizza day when no one needs a lunch packed). Ahhhhh.


"Back to School Night," the Harry edition.


"Back to School Night, the Ellie edition.

(Due to scheduling conflicts, and our inability to clone ourselves, we had to miss Leo and Lucy's back to school nights. Otherwise known as the plight of having four children and back to school nights that are held on the Same Day at the Same Time. Sigh.)


I pretty much just put my face into this entire box after making it through the first week of four kids in four schools, oh yes I did.

5, 2, Pre-K, Pre-K: Ready, Set, Go!

And just like that, summer was over.



All in all, it was a good one. It was not without its complications of course (working part-time from home with four kids? Not for the faint of heart-By the way, I think I need to just go ahead and pre-order that line on my grave stone: Not For The Faint of Heart). But considering all there was to balance, I think it went well. It was the first I spent with the kids since The First Summer (that would be, when the twins were born and GAH I think I have basically repressed that by necessity). Needless to say life at home with four that includes twin three year olds is a little different than newborn twins (newsflash!).

I want to say this was our last "hard" year (stop laughing). Maybe next year I will be able to manage more daring outings solo? In the beginning and middle of the summer we were still haggling with naps so we were limited schedule-wise--oh but those days are all in the past now (SOB). Harry could definitely still use one, a fact which he makes particularly clear around 2:58 pm each day when suddenly all the Lego structures start falling apart and he wants cheese crackers right! Nowwwww! And whyyyyy can't he have MORE Batman Legos? But instead, he chose to fall asleep on the way to picking Ellie up from camp. For a whole ten minutes. On particularly long days, Lucy would usually snooze on the way home. Because, tandem naps? HA!


It was Ellie who had this genius idea when we went school supply shopping last week. Two carts! One for Twins, one for Stuff. Brilliant. Everyone was happy, reasonably calm and well-behaved. Also? Contained. WIN!


By Labor Day everyone was clamoring to get back to routine (or start one). This was at 7:30 in the morning. Ellie playing school with her eager students.


Ironically, the littlest one was the first to go back. Lucy started preschool last Wednesday (a day before the other three returned). So far (all two days), so good! Her teacher has picked up on her "stubborn streak" (a kind word for Lucy's tendency to uh, bulldoze her way through life), but we shall see how it all shakes out. She is certainly ready, that we know.


First day of second and fifth grade. No idea what was going on with this little love fest here. I think they were both so thrilled to soon be rid of each other that they decided to show a little last-minute affection.


I know, I know, Harry was in preschool for much of the summer but he was "off" the whole month of August and he had an official first day just like the big kids.


Day one had Ellie very excited to impress her new teacher (or maybe she was just eager to try out the Mr. Sketch markers I had to go to two different stores to find-they were on her supply list as "required.")


Ready! Set! Everyone say, Back to School!

And that's just what they did.