Look What Ben Can Do! (illustrated by brother John)

      This isn't Ben...this is a picture of John at ehhh... about 4 months or so. I would not call either of my children a diehard fan of tummy time, but John was strong from a very early age. Started rolling over and very adamantly sleeping on his tummy just before he was 3 months old, scaring his What to Expect toting mama to bits. Then when I realized he could do this:

...I felt fine about it. That began the era of the much-loved sleeping with a tushy in the air. If you have ever seen a baby do this, you know what I'm talking about. 

Anyway. I have been waiting for Ben to get up on his little elbows. And waiting...and waiting.......and......... waiting. Waiting and praying. Who would ever think that your wish would be for your nearly 18 month old boy would be to get into tummy time? Let me assure you that he is capable of doing this - I've seen him do it with my own eyes! He just hates it - in the same way that I hate touching feet - not gonna happen. Trying to get him into this position and keep him there long enough to get myself situated so that I can adequately distract him and get him to start playing is like trying to put pajamas on a cat. While I try to quantum leap into a position that might engage Ben, he just rolls his sweet self onto his back and smiles as if to say, "Ahhh, that's more like it. I don't like working, lady, so lay off. Now go make me a sammich." Just kidding - Ben isn't even close to eating sandwiches, and he's way too sweet to ever say such a thing...it's just the look on his face.

Well. TODAY (sound the trumpets), we got Ben onto his hands and knees, and this led to an immediate forehead plant, one of his favorite I'm-gettin'-out-of-this-while-the-gettin's-good maneuvers.  Then something, well, different happened. He picked his head up a little bit. He pushed himself up onto his hands - way up - onto his HANDS! Did you hear that?! HANDS, I say! He smiled his irresistible, squooshy, sweet smile as I stuck one of those Sesame Street you-push-it/drag- it/twist-it/wiggle-it-and-it-pops-up-and-sings-to-you toys right in front of him. I was all prepared to be given the sammich look, but the most amazing thing happened. He settled in on his elbows and played with this toy! I now consider this toy the finest toy ever made by toymakers, so if you happen to know that it was made in China, just don't even tell me. When he grew tired, rather than roll over, he just nestled his little cheek (ok, his big, chubba wubba cheek) on the rug and listened to Laurie (our DT) sing Twinkle Twinkle. And when the song was over, he propped himself back up and played some more - I didn't even have to adjust him! I just watched. Really. Just watched my little boy play. That is a big deal to a mom whose every single tiny decision was mostly inconsequential the first go-round but this time is fraught with implication--- Am I using the right spoon? The one with the ridges on the bottom so it will help combat his oral defensiveness or the one that vibrates so that it will reduce his sensitivity? If I leave his helmet off for his nap, will that flat spot come back? Has he been sitting in that high chair too long? Have I done enough stretching today? Did he stand in his stander enough times this week? Did I slip him enough fish oil/olive oil today? What kind of difference will that make for his brain development? Will it make his brain grow and thereby his itty bitty head? That doesn't even skim the surface, really... This afternoon, for just a little while, I got to be just Ben's mom instead of his mom/full-time therapist.  Oh, it was such a treat. A short treat, a long-time coming treat......the sweetest treat of all. 

Super Sweet Things

John and his friends (this one is Gabe) loooooovvvve to dress up, so I keep all of John's old Halloween costumes (and a few random dress up things like pirate hats and a "knight in shimy armour" - he doesn't say that anymore) in his closet. He and Gabe do well because they can both fit into all of the costumes, although who gets to be Spiderman is a frequent source of temporary contention. On this day, I convinced John that it really is nice to let your friends choose first, thus Gabe became Spider-Gabe. When Gabe wears this costume, he makes his hands into little web-slingers and jumps around yelling, "Web at-cha! Web at-cha!" I love it...  Anyway, I don't know what they were saying to me here...probably telling me I wasn't allowed to use flash photography at the Hall of Justice and had to leave.

Last week, Ben's super-encouraging, awesome developmental therapist, Miss Laurie, thought he might like to try painting, but since he was already holding John's new markers when she arrived, we tried that first. He is "standing" in his stander, a hulking but somehow cute piece of equipment we just received a couple of weeks ago. It forces him to stand and bear weight all the way down into his feet and ankles, and it is already making a difference in how much weight he can bear on his legs without its assistance. My point here is supposed to be... Look how much fun he had with those markers! He was pretty fascinated with his artistic abilities! We decided to sign and date it for him, proclaiming it his first work of art!

Last night, I was just getting ready to read John one more book when Landy brought Ben in to say goodnight. It just seemed like one of those nights when Ben might like to cuddle in his big brother's bed, so we made a little room and they had some brother time. Soon it became clear that nobody wanted to hear Over in the Meadow, as John must have been telling Ben a bedtime story about Spiderman and the Transformers. I wonder if John will start telling Ben stories about Lightning Bolt, the dinosaur who would come to our house and play soccer and spend the night and always have a snack of safe rice krispie treats and soy milk (sad, I know). I had to make up more stories about that dinosaur! Well, I'll gladly step aside for either of them if they want to hang out together, because this....

...this is what I've always dreamed about John and Ben being for each other.

And have you ever seen a child so happy about getting his nails clipped 30 minutes past his bedtime???

oh, and here's that picture...

...of Ben with a dollop of strawberries and bananas on his noggin. When something goes wrong, I say grab your camera!

And the crowd gathers to witness the spectacle...

Later, Ben and John at home, with the food plastering down the hair on Ben's left side. His hair is so weightless that I couldn't just lift out the food, instead I had to use it as a leave-in conditioner. John looks like a junior vampire since he had just finished his shot-enduring cherry sorbet reward. If ever they both smiled in the general direction of my camera at the exact same time, I'm sure it would explode. So, here you go...

We Have a LOT of Good Days! Here's One Now...

The Townsends' Day at Hillridge Farm

You may not realize that we live in Wake Forest. NO, this is not where Wake Forest University is located - that's Winston-Salem. While Wake Forest is part of Wake County, just as Raleigh is, it isn't actually part of Raleigh. The town of WF might be called "quaint" by those living in Raleigh, or it might be called something else (not so nice?) by someone who hasn't been here in a while, particularly someone ITB (that's Inside the Beltline for you non-Raleigh folks). We who live in WF would consider the town of Youngsville, which lies just north of us, to be quaint as compared to our booming metropolis. And in Youngsville, the crown jewel is a place called Hillridge Farms. For those of you in Louisville, it's like Huber's on a small scale and without the restaurant. We took our 2nd annual family trip to Hillridge last weekend and fun was had by all!

Our friend Mark was there with his family and took this photo for us just as the boys were heading up the hill to ride the giant slide. Landy made me stay with the stroller and my bag. Actually, I remembered from last year the sore tailbone I had from the slide so I decided to take one for the team and sit this one out.

Joy!!!

John has his own train there! We're kind of a big deal here in NC.

Just watching my brother in the maze!

My pumpkins picked their pumpkins...

No, I'm sorry... We can't stay all day long!

We saw the giant catfish in the lake, rode the train, went on a hayride, picked pumpkins, navigated a maze, checked out a fort, and dried some tears when it was time to go! What a wonderful fall day with all of my boys... I'm so grateful!

Oh, and Hillridge Farms... get ready. We're bringing our kids and our nephews back with us in a couple of weeks!!!

Circling Holland

My super-sweet friend Leah shared this really beautiful anecdote on her blog, and I can't stop thinking about it. I know she has other people in her life to whom this can apply, but I couldn't help feeling as if she was sending me a little cyber-hug.  I wanted to share it with  you all...

Welcome to Holland

"I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have  a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!? What do you mean, Holland?" you say. "I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy.  All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. You've landed in Holland, and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine, and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you  must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around...and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills...and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy...and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away...because the loss of that dream is a very, very significant loss.

But...if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things...about Holland."

There. That's it. I don't know who said these words, but I'd like to thank that person. Truly, it describes so well the ebb and flow of happiness that you find in your days. I feel as if my plane has been circling Holland for the last year and a half, as I suppose it might continue to do for quite a while. All this time, I now realize, I have been mourning - because when you are given this journey, you do have to mourn a loss...the loss of a "perfect" child and the dreams you imagined in the way that you imagined them. You must begin all over again, trying to navigate a path you don't want to follow and can't understand. Oh goodness, there are certainly those who have been in Holland for a much longer time and with a far more dangerous and frightening and heartwrenching road to travel. They are far stronger than I am! I am thankful for the years I spent in Italy, and I am here and now choosing to find the good, the positive, the wonderful about Holland. 

I'm not saying that I'll never feel cheated or ridiculously sad or inexplicably snippy to my husband, particularly if our plane has to land before changing course. I know I will. Just yesterday I cried in aisle 6 at the grocery when some impossibly adorable little girl who must have been 18 months old kept looking back at me to smile, to get a reaction from me. I'm sure it's not what she was seeking...I hope she wasn't confused. You see, she was also walking, reaching for things, running, almost skipping, and breaking my heart. I kept trying to change course, to find a place she wasn't, but it was no use. I ran  into her everywhere from the salad dressing to the frozen waffles. When I returned home, Ben was playing and laughing and doing things in his own "Ben time" and the anxiety I felt earlier melted away. Now I think maybe it was God's way of showing me that there are always going to be "little trips to Italy" that belong to other people. I can't avoid them. I shouldn't avoid them. And perhaps I should also explain to them how wonderful Holland can be, all the while showing myself the same.  

Anyway, thank you for sharing that really lovely story with me, Leah. I consider you one of those friends God put in my life to be just like a little treasure I discovered!

OH! I've Been Tagged!

How fun to be tagged by Ellen! Here are some odd things about me....

1. I have to sleep on the side of the bed that is closest to the door. I suppose I should say it's because I'll be able to get to my kids more quickly if they cry out in the night, or that I'll be closest to them if they wander in during the night, but it's really because if there's a fire, I'm going to get up and run out of the house, and I want to be first. I've always, always, always done this. If - sorry, when we move, if our bed is on another wall, I don't pay a bit of attention to "my side" of the bed, I just take the one nearest the door. Lately, Landy has claimed *my* side because he thinks it's better for his back. I really, really do want to be a good wife and act as if this doesn't bother me...but...I just ain't right.

2. I am an only child, and while there are certain very nice things about that status, they never stopped me from wishing for a brother or sister. And I don't just mean the one I imagined living in my closet who would tell me if my outfit looked alright. When I married Landy, I finally got that sister. Love you, Laurie...

3. I don't like feet. Except my own feet, or my kids' feet...they're fine.

4. I used to love Duran Duran so much that I made my mom go to their concert at Roberts Stadium in 1984 just to get a long sleeve t-shirt for me. Mind you, I don't think she actually attended the concert (unless she was a closet fan), she just went for the t-shirt. I secretly wore it to school under my dress code approved frilly shirt with my little skirt and tights, then once at school left my frilly shirt in my locker. That lasted approximately 30 minutes, when I changed back into the frilly shirt under threat of having my mother called, when she would no doubt have had to explain that she drove across the river just to get me that shirt. Oh........... Yeah, I still love me some DD!

5. I like to wrap my Christmas gifts in solid red paper with black and white gingham ribbon. For different packages, the ribbon can be different widths or check sizes, but the paper must be the same. Every year. I don't know - it's just my thing.

6. When I was in the 4th grade, 4 people in my whole school (K-12) won the Presidential Physical Fitness Award - 3 boys and 1 girl. That girl was yours truly. I had to get up at an assembly in front of the whole school to get my pin and certificate. My feelings alternated between mortification at being recognized in front of everyone and wonderment, because I recall that I actually thought that Ronald Reagan himself was going to walk through the gym doors and present the award to me. Anyway, that proves that at one time I could do at least 10 chin-ups and run forever and ever. What the heck happened to me?

7. Once Gran and Pop (Landy's grandparents) thoughtfully gifted us with tickets to a play at Actors' Theatre. We were excited to go and decided to dine at Club Grotto before heading downtown. Naturally, we each ordered the super-awesome filet, which at that time was served with asparagus, whipped potatoes, corn pudding, AND a mushroom strudel. Of course we also ordered a molten chocolate lava cake (which was not nearly so easy to come by as it is these days). Its preparation was so precise and delicate that it had to be ordered at the same time as the entree. When our cake arrived, we were waaaay too full to eat it, but could not bear to pass on the chocolaty goodness, either. What a dilemma!!! We ate the cake, then I found I needed to unbutton my pants. We decided that we were too uncomfortably full to go anywhere but home, and we did not attend the play. Didn't even try to head in that direction. We told Gran and Pop that the show was wonderful.

I am tagging: Jennifer, Rhonda, Leah, Caroline, Susan, and Julie.

What I Loved About Today....

This picture was not taken today, but John was this tired after all we did.....

Well, I loved a lot of things, but I didn't expect today to be easy.  Landy has been in Orlando since Saturday and I've been on caffeinated-auto-pilot ever since, especially since he has been gone every week for the last month. Shoooo...we're glad that's almost over! Anyway...today was John's 5 year old check up.  Aside from the heart palpitations I get from realizing that he has turned fiiiivvvvve, I knew this would be a doozy, because that kid hates shots. I once tried to encourage him to try writing his friend's name on a card by telling him to "give it a shot" which exploded into a 10 minute crying meltdown because "I don't want to get a shot!" Oh, and did I mention that we had to go at 2:00. No nap for you today, B. 

Leaving home, one of those things happened that makes you think, "Oh, I hope I always remember this moment!" As we were nearing the stop sign to turn off of our street (next to the corner on which stands a model home all decked out with flagpoles bearing the U.S. flag and the NC flag), John yelled, "Stop the car!!!" Startled, I stopped short and turned around to him, ready to convince him that the shots wouldn't be that bad, when he said, "I have to say the Pledge of Leadance!" So we sat there, and he said it, every word, even "leadance". I had to put my hand over my heart for so many reasons!

His check up was just fine. There was the eye test, the measuring (still haven't broken 40 lbs., but almost!), the answering of questions, the finger-stick followed by what seemed to be the draining of all his blood. He was so, so brave...so into being 5 and not crying! Of course, we have no concerns about John and I proceeded to make the entire appointment about Ben. That's what you get for being so healthy, John. Just lie low...maybe you won't get the shots after all..... No such luck! 4 shots to the legs, for which there was a bit of crying, but no limb-pinning necessary. Afterward we stopped for cherry sorbet (as not a milk protein shall pass those lips)! 

And then it was off to baseball, which only would have been better if Landy had been there, or oh, I don't know, maybe their coach?! Seriously, that dude hasn't been to 5 out of 6 practices. I am hereby re-naming Mr. Kurt as Mr. Coach. Ben and I watched and talked with Ivy and Gabe (and Gabe's girlfriends) and had a fun time, especially when Ben decided to knock the contents of his spoon out onto his sweet little head! And what did I do - clean it off? No! I took a picture (to be posted later...) because that's the kind of mom I am! But John did so great - Daddy would have been proud! There was no wrestling in the outfield while waiting his turn, he choked up on the bat just like Landy taught him, he even hit a line drive down the third base line and made it a double! Of course, he must have been a bit preoccupied as he waited at second, because he tried to catch the next hit rather than run to third...but we'll get this figured out! He's only five, right?