Falling For Fall

We all forgot how fun it is to play in the leaves.

Oh man. I love this weather. Every year I forget how glorious fall is. Chrystal clear blue skies, the crispy leaves tumbling down. Yesterday we got home early from Ellie's soccer game and headed to the backyard. Well, the boys did. Leaves and trucks. Really, what else do you need?

And yes, Harry wore his pajamas all day yesterday. Don't you do the same thing on Sundays?

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.

On Balance (HAHAHAHA), a New School Year and Free Reign Chaos

I'm coming out of another work fog that makes me remember that I am a human and that there is life outside of work. It also makes me question how I am handling this Working From Home gig. It's hard, yo!


Then there was the day a few weeks ago that the house internet was down in the midst of a huge work deadline (of course it was!). In the afternoon we all trudged down to the neighborhood "free" wifi spot (Evil Fast Food Restaurant) where I was successfully able to download my much needed document. All was well that ended well there, but not without quote a bit of panic and stress on my part. I think it's clear from the "toasting" of sundaes (seen here) who the winners were that day.

It's all hard:

-Working at the office/commuting/not seeing the kids for ten hours/getting home and scrambling for all the different people begging for attention/feeling guilty because I don't spend enough time with them and the time I do spend isn't "quality" time and I often feel impatient and burned out
-Working from home/carving work in between all the other home responsibilities/seeing the kids for ten hours at a time/getting home and scrambling for all the different people begging for attention/feeling guilty because the time I spend with them isn't "quality" time and I often feel impatient and burned out

But the good thing about being ridiculously stressed and overwhelmed is that when you no longer feel stressed and overwhelmed, you feel Reborn!

After two days on and several days off (Hi, Jewish Holidays), we are officially Back in the Business of School (except for one day last week--Hi Another Jewish holiday). In fact this week, the last one of September, is actually the first full week of school!


Oh, Hiiiiiiiiiiii sixth grade. How's it going? (First day)

Leo is settling into middle school. After a few bumps (on the second week of school it rained. Leo has developed a severe phobia of rain and storms (?) and that day, I was on and off the phone all day with the school nurse, because Leo had come to her with a stomach ache. Several times). We have been talking and talking (and talking) about the importance of rain--to the planet, to the people, you name it. The other bump was that did you know that in middle school they serve pizza Every Day? Leo was confused on a Tuesday when he did not get pizza (because in fifth grade, pizza day was Friday). Sheesh, life is always throwing curve balls, isn't it? Next week he starts some extracurricular activities which I'm excited about (and so is he!): Art Club and Science Club. On the horizon is try-outs for the basketball team (gulp!).


Behold, third grade and Last Year of Preschool x 2

No big news on third grade (fine by me!). Ellie likes her teacher and is happy that one of her good friends is in her class (again). She's started soccer and is enjoying it and Girl Scouts (Brownies) starts again in a few weeks.

Lucy is excited to be in the "Big Kid" class in preschool. She has the teacher Ellie had her last year of Pre-K, which is fun and familiar. After a few relatively smooth months (it's all relative, not sure if smooth is the best word) Lucy seems to be entering another tricky phase. It seemed to kick off with the transition to big kid beds. Maybe it's too much change at once. I could just really do without the tantrums about television and the running away from me in the parking lot. And the driveway. This too shall pass, I know. The thing is, she can be SO SWEET. And mature! And sensitive. When Erin had some oral surgery recently, she came over to her and crawled into her lap and said, "Mama? Does your mouth hurt? I'll be extra sweet to you."

On the first chilly morning of fall I dug out my old beloved khaki trench coat which she complimented me on, calling it my "fancy" coat. When Harry is running around the bedroom without pants on at bedtime and she's quietly brushing her teeth with her legs folded crisscross applesauce, she asks me, "Mommy? Am I being a very good girl?" Jekyll. And. Hyde.


And just like that, we said goodbye to cribs (I know, four is old to be in a crib but if you have twins, you get it). Do not, I repeat DO NOT be fooled by their apparent calm. Cribs for everyone!


I was admiring Harry's Transformer "dollhouse" and "family." "It's NOT a dollhouse family," he replied, incredulous. "It's an ARMY!"

After a month with Lucy at her school, Harry was a little unhappy about having to go back to his other school (where he continues to get the speech therapy that he's happily growing out of the need for but I'm not arguing with free preschool!). His disappointment passed quickly--he now seems to really enjoy where he is--all last year he would ask in the morning, "Is it a school day?" And when he found out it was, his face would fall a little. But now, he has a little spring in his step in the morning and bounds off the bus in the late morning, talking about a handful of little boys he played Transformers with or a book they got to read in library.

And then there's me. Four years in and I'm STILL not accustomed to the chaos of having twins. One four year old is one thing. Two? Right now what I'm struggling most with is listening. As in, they don't listen to me. Or at least, not as much as I need them to.

I am a person who likes order. Routine. And did I mention quiet? OK, I have mostly accepted the fact that our house is the opposite of quiet, but that doesn't mean I don't find it all too much to take sometimes. It seems like for the most part, ever since we converted the cribs to toddler beds, bedtime, or more like, around 4pm every day, evolves into something out of an episode of "Super Nanny, "but BEFORE Super Nanny swoops in and makes everything OK. It just feels completely out of control. Jumping off beds. Ignoring simple, completely reasonable requests like, "Can you please go to the bathroom and put your pajamas on?"

We're trying a few things that are hopefully helping (awarding "coins" for good behavior that they collect to earn a small prize at the end of the week). I HATE material bribes but you do what you gotta do right? I'm also hoping that maybe the novelty of being "free reign" at bedtime will wear off soon.

And you know, there's the flipside of course. These two incredibly frustrating, challenging, adorable, interesting, smart hilarious people. Just as I did the day they were born, I still marvel at them. TWO of them.


To quote Harry, who said, right as I was taking this picture: "There are too many people in this pool!"





Well, four of them.

This too shall pass, and all that jazz.

Summer 2015: What a Difference a Year Makes

Summer is winding down.

The dog days (hello stretches of 90+ days and insufferable humidity, would you please just bring us a nice, cleaning, good old fashioned east coast summer thunderstorm please?) are upon us.

If I had to sum up the summer in one sentence it would be this:

What a difference a year makes.

There were loads of milestones. I frequently took the twins (and a big kid or two) to the town pool on my own this summer (see above). That felt like a major accomplishment.



I'm not potty training twins.

No one naps.

Everyone is (for the most part) calmer.

I touched on this a bit at the end of last summer, this feeling that I am a fifth wheel and they just don't need me the way they used to (by the way I am not broken up about this and say it without a single tinge of melancholy). I mean, of course they need me. But so much of the time I find that I am mostly doing maintenance and upkeep around here (filling the dishwasher, granting snacks, anticipating the next activity--What in the HELL am I going to make for dinner--and do these people REALLY need to eat AGAIN?).

This is partly my own doing (when they are all home or even when it's just the three of them--usually Ellie, Harry and Lucy in the afternoons, since Leo has been at an all day camp for the last month) they tend to get involved in elaborate activities (vet hospital, mountain lions, Play-Doh, to name a few). For the most part, it's very easy for me step aside and just let them do their own thing (listening with a half an ear of course).

By the way, Ellie? World's best au pair/mother's helper. I seriously could not ask for more. She has saved me more than a few times this summer when I've had to meet a work deadline and the twins are clamoring.

Ellie made us crepes for dinner from her new cookbook (with fresh strawberry topping). Eight thumbs up!

This summer, Leo turned eleven.



Ellie turned eight. She attended gymnastics, art and invention camps.


At the pool on her birthday she had a hot dog AND ice cream. I mean, you only turn eight once, right?


Ellie also learned how to ride a bike.

Leo went on his first overnight at camp (on his birthday, no less!).


Every year on Leo's birthday I have the same thought: that I couldn't be more proud of my boy, and that I wish I could go back in time to that terrifying day he was born and say, 'Self? Leo is going to be JUST FINE. In fact, the day before he turns eleven, he'll ride a jet ski for the first time, and on his actual birthday? He'll go on his first camp overnight.


School, together. Day 1.

Lucy and Harry had milestones too. During the month of August, since Harry's school was closed, he got to attend camp (cough, cough glorified preschool) with Lucy. I was surprised by how much they enjoyed being together (I always assumed they liked the break from each other that separate schools afforded since they are togetherallthetime). But no. Every morning this August, the first words out of Harry's mouth are: "Do I get to go to Lucy's school today?" I actually think he might just be in it for the LEGO bricks in Ms. Jamie's room but I could be wrong.



The thing that is so crazy to me is that the twins are now, the same age as Ellie was when they were born. Maybe it's because there are two of them and they rile each other up so much of the time but they just still seem so--Little. Young. Yes, babyish.


Summer, 2011. Sunrise, Sunset.












We still have a little over a week until school starts. It's hard to believe this is the twins' last year before "real" school (kindergarten). It's hard to believe Leo is heading off to middle school. We received Leo's bust "ticket" for the year and he'll be picked up at 7:30am (YIKES). That's going to be interesting.

Summer Update: On Endings and Beginnings and Tissues

Our first big "official" summer outing was trip to the strawberry patch. Yes it was raining, and yes it was about 55 degrees (no joke) but I'm proud to report it was the first activity like this that didn't feel like a complete disaster, with toddlers running in one direction and big kids frustrated because we couldn't do "everything." It just felt like, KIDS. Four of them. And it was fun! Imagine that. 

We are over halfway through summer (I think?). 

July 4 has always felt like the halfway mark to me.

Anyway.

I'm behind. As per usual.

Leo graduated. From fifth grade. Just like that, elementary school, DONE.

This was his reaction:


And this was mine.


It didn't hurt of course, that they concluded the "ceremony" with the entire graduating class singing "We Are the World." My baby! Off to big, bad (I hope not!) middle school. Endings are hard. Goodbyes are harder. Leo's elementary school has always felt safe and nurturing and well, familiar (it hasn't always felt familiar of course, but the beginning, when it was scary and new feels like a billion years ago). Now we know almost everyone and even though it bugs me a little, Leo is known as the "unofficial mayor" (Hello, cliche!) of the school (you know what? Cliche and all, it comes from a good place and you can't really argue with that). 

On the last day of school, a much beloved teacher Leo had from kindergarten through second grade sent home a small photo album with a collection of pictures of his years with her, along with a heartfelt card. There was five year old Leo at the pumpkin patch (sob!), there was seven year old Leo making (pudding?) and wearing a Halloween costume (Aww). Not only was it sweet to see pictures of him I'd never seen, it was such a gift to see him "in action" at school, which is this somewhat mysterious other life our children have, largely without us.




Yup, I cried.

I remember when Leo was born (and I ordered basically every book related to Down syndrome from Amazon) reading something about how when you have a child with special needs, you will have an even larger "village" than you would have with a typical child, and you will often connect to these people more deeply. The reasons are many: There are extra challenges and extra struggles of course. There's much more information that needs to be disseminated. Your child's frustrations are theirs, but so are their victories. Also, there is usually much more communication between teacher and parent (in Leo's first year of elementary school there was a daily journal home and many, many emails). You can't help but grow close to these educators that are in the trenches along with you. And so some of them, the really good ones, find a small corner of your heart, where I think Mrs. L. and Mrs. F. (the third grade teacher who told me that I was a "forever friend") will always remain.


Back in May I met with Leo's future teachers at the middle school. We had an informal meeting (not an IEP).  Can I pause to say that just once, I'd like to get through a meeting with Leo's school "team" without being a sloppy, teary mess? Bad news, good news--doesn't matter. When it comes to talking about my boy? Tears. This particular meeting was emotional for a variety of reasons. I'm still not completely sold on his placement, but I don't know that many people who have middle-school-aged children with Down syndrome who are. I'm trying to be positive and open minded. I really am. 

Thankfully, Leo couldn't disagree more.

A few weeks later Leo and I toured his middle school together. Leo arm wrestled the principal twice and succeeded in not hugging anyone (though you could tell he REALLY wanted to--there had been a stern conversation about hugging prior to the tour). He was disappointed when the visit came to a close and kept trying to extend it (yes, he met the cafeteria ladies, several guidance counselors and found the comic book section of the library where he would have happily remained for the rest of the morning). 

Pass the tissues, middle school here we come.

And, We're BACK! With Four Year Olds and Some Thoughts on Summer

I suppose the great thing about not blogging forever is that when you DO finally blog, you have a lot to say, right?

Let's just jump right in, shall we?

Last week the twins turned four. FOUR.

Celebrating, a day early. This is the first year I made two cakes.

Ask me how on earth this happened and where the last four years of my life went and I will say I HAVE NO IDEA.


At four, Harry is a highly observant little conversationalist. He is thoughtful, loves to asks questions about how things work and it's safe to say his language has EXPLODED. He is still highly emotional (I've lost track of how many times we've had to threaten to take his Lego blocks away after he crumbles when something doesn't "fit" quite right or a Lego vehicle falls apart). We are working on ways for him to manage his many, MANY feelings (the majority of them involving his beloved Lego blocks). He is still a bit of a stunt man, falling off chairs and practically diving head first into rooms. He can be a real snuggler when he wants to be. He eats apples almost as if they are an obsession and can play quietly and independently for very long stretch (one word: Lego).


At four, Lucy continues to be one of the happiest, smiliest people I've ever known. Ebullient is really the word I would use to describe her. She is strong-willed (highly unusual amongst four year olds, I know-HA HA HA) and independent, which is fabulous when she is doing what she's asked to do (put her pajamas on by herself) but not so terrific when she's decided that she DOESN'T want to do what you've asked her to do (put her pajamas on). Have I mentioned that both she and her twin brother are teaching me a thing or two about tantrums? Ahem. Lucy loves to color, draw and play with anything related to horses. She is definitely able to entertain herself more, lining up La La Loopsy girls and creating complicated scenarios and conversations with them. But her favorite playmate of all these days is her big sister Ellie. When Ellie gets home from school it's as though Lucy's day really starts. Last night I overheard her out in the backyard calling, "Eleanor! ELEANOR! You come here! Because I love you and I want to be with you all the time!"

It's hard to believe a little over a year from now these two will be heading off to kindergarten. They still seem SO LITTLE to me and it seems like they have so much maturing to do. I know that a lot happens between turning four and almost turning five. It really is a sweet age (when it's not maddening), and I'm trying hard to enjoy things when I can and not be driven completely insane when things get, shall we say, frustrating.

The school year ends in a little less than two weeks. Like most parents, I'm looking forward to a slower change of pace and perhaps am a little nervous about making everything work. Trust me when I sway I needed a bottle of wine, a spreadsheet and a bank robbery to figure out camps and schedules for all these small people.

Leo and Harry have summer school in July, then Leo goes to camp for all of August, Ellie is attending a variety of camps (art, science, gymnastics) for one week stints but is definitely going to home more this summer than she's ever been before (we shall see about that--she's promised me that she wants this, that she's ready for "down" time--but the jury is out on how this will play). Lucy's schedule is the only one that won't change, she's still doing preschool five mornings a week (though her school becomes a bit more "layed-back" and "camp-like" during the summer months, with water play and theme weeks (camping week, space week, fairy tale week).

Hopefully it will all be JUST FINE and everyone will be reasonably happy, but if not, I am trying to keep this in mind.

It's my mantra for the summer and really should be, even beyond. Erin and I have a running joke that someone is always not quite happy. Eating lunch outside? Three of them cheer and one pipes up, But it's cold! I need a sweater! I want to eat inside! Watching a movie? Three of them agree but one complains, I don't wanna watch that one! We watched it last week! And ask me how hard it is to make dinner (heck, ANY MEAL) for four children and have them all content. It's just not possible. And for a people pleaser like me, it can be exhausting--that endless, constant feeling that something is always not quite right. So, Summer of 2015. Wish us luck!