honor roll for the remarkable


What a school year it has been here under the Big Top!

Only four more days left in this school year then, oh for goodness sakes, my two youngest children will be a SENIOR and a FIFTH GRADER!!!

I’m so proud of both of these babies of mine. They both have worked hard managing more than their fair share of obstacles to persevere, grow (a lot) and accomplish much. For Daniel it is especially gratifying. Remember the beginning of this school year? How we fought so hard to keep him in the same school and found ourselves defending the special education the school district provides for him because the law demands it? Well, guess who made the honor roll?

Go ahead, guess….

I’ll wait…

Can I hear a loud “OH YEAH BABY!!!“?!

So dear Mr. Dennis Wyatt, to answer your question that you posed seven months ago: “The question that no one is asking given the budget crisis is whether we can continue to afford to support special education in K-12 at the current level. That may sound like borderline blasphemy just to ask the question, but it needs to be asked…” …

Can we afford it?

Is it really worth it?

Is it worth it spending all the money, time and energy on a child with obvious learning challenges and delays along with sensory processing dysfunctions that sometimes make it virtually impossible to focus and learn?

Oh hell yeah!!!

I can assure you that no one amongst his peers worked as hard as he did to EARN that 3.0. Truly remarkable is he, my amazing son. Again I am reminded how lucky my son is, How truly fortunate and amazing and remarkable. But today, this time I am reminded in a way that makes me so proud of him and the people who have come along side of him to support him and encourage him. This beyond the normal that we have learned to celebrate as parents of a child who was first presented little chance for survival or any kind of good quality of life. This is a feat worth celebrating…even for the normal.

OMG, my amazing baby boy made honor roll!!!!

Yeah, okay mom, enough with the pictures!

why dance competitions are so freaking long


Parents, grandparents, aunties, uncles, friends, Romans and countrymen…okay maybe not Romans…but the rest of you, you know how when we are all gathered at pretty much any and every event in the life of our children where they aren’t the only children there like concerts, awards ceremonies, games, graduations, competitions and other stuff where the emcee has to stop every once in a while to remind us all of the rules of the event…the rules that apply to us all at the event. Have you ever thought how much time is wasted when the emcee needs to stop and remind us more than twice, three times, four times..six times…in an hour…of every hour…of every day of the event you are attending?

Have you?

Well I did this weekend, at the event that started Friday afternoon and lasted until Sunday night.

People, THIS is why the emcee at the dance competition we attended Friday afternoon and evening, all day Saturday and all day Sunday had to stop to remind us at the very least four times every hour…in very clear, concise, simple language. At dance competitions like these, public events with our children performing copyrighted choreography on stage it is very clearly prohibited for anyone in the audience to video record a dance…with our children on stage. But that rule must apply to everyone but ME says pretty much every parent, grandparent, auntie, uncle, random stranger who might wander into an open, free, public event.

Ew, to the thought of some random stranger wandering in to a dance competition and taking pictures or recording young dancers on stage!

Ewww!!!

So this is why there is this rule prohibiting photographing or video recording the children on stage and YES it applies to everyone which is why they had to keep stopping…to remind all of us parents, especially the self important ones who were certain that they could not possibly mean THEM, or their iPhone and who were genuinely irritated when kids, my kid actually blocked their view and even more irritated when a staff member of the Rainbow Dance Competition came up to her and told her to stop recording or her kid’s dance would be disqualified.

Yeah, I was clapping. Because self-entitled dance mom you so deserved it.

Seriously, lady, just put down the 12 bucks and buy the damn dvd of your kid’s dance! You want have some person’s shrill voice shouting “You’re actually going to ignore the rules and video record this, aren’t you? Well, aren’t you special!“  and you won’t have people walking into and out of the shot blocking your little darling as she pirouettes across the stage. It is quite good. Note the previous blog post.

patient…fine…balanced…kind


Another weekend, another dance competition.

:::back of hand dramatically to forehead:::

Oh the life of a Dance Mom!

It can be hard sometimes. Like when the competition is being staged this weekend at UC Davis while three of the colleges here are also staging their commencement ceremonies. There is traffic, crowded hotels and at least one hotel manager who seemed to be super annoyed with the arrival of guests who want to check in and prepare for graduation ceremonies and dance competitions.

Putting on stage makeup in the hotel lobby because your room will not be ready for another couple hours, around the time you have to be at the competition ready to take the stage, is just one more thing that will annoy the hotel manager.

Whatever!

You do what you have to do and you don’t let it break your concentration.

Not at all.

And the reward for being patient and fine and balanced and kind is a platinum for your solo and a platinum for your tap duo.

How cool is that?!

Oh and this picture, that smile of my darling dancing daughter’s…I am so glad for all the orthodonture we paid for over the years for her because that smile is perfect.

Congratulations Jodie. Two dances down, four more, plus Hazel’s, to go. You’re off to a great start.

 

 

a special place in hell for the special people


So I have this friend who has cerebral palsy which affects his brain in such a way he falls down on occasion. He actually used to refer to himself as the FallGuy because he was known to fall down, especially when forced to negotiate stairs. Years ago, he and I both found ourselves working as high school camp counselors at a small Seventh Day Adventist College in the Napa Valley with lots of rolling hills and lots and lots of stairs all over the campus…everywhere. I’m pretty certain that J thought that he was in Hell except we were counselors for a Christian Church high school camp and how could that possibly be Hell except for the fact that we were surrounded by teenagers who couldn’t find their own toothbrush at a college campus that had absolutely no caffeine or meat because it was a Seventh Day Adventist college campus in a Seventh Day Adventist town and there was no caffeine or meat (or alcohol) to be found anywhere, at least on that campus in that town. Oh, and did I neglect to mention that it was summertime and it was over 100 degrees every freaking day. Perhaps it was pre-Hell. It sure as hell felt like it.

Still J managed in spite of the obvious pain it was for him to get around and try to keep up with the kids we were in charge of. But he did. So I kept my whiny, bitchiness to myself and felt deeply ashamed of myself for wanting, more than anything in the world, a coke…a damn coca-cola! J was climbing a mile of stairs everyday in the 100 degree heat in spite of his obvious physical disability and pain. How could I possibly bitch about the fact that I couldn’t find one damn Diet Coke?  Then we were granted a free afternoon and we jumped into J’s car to find a burger and a coke. I’m sure we both would have loved a beer but this was a church camp and J, at the time, was under 21. Still we had free time and we were on a mission…in his beater car with no ac in the 100+ degree afternoon in the Napa Valley. Thankfully the burger and coca-cola gods were smiling down upon us and we found that which we were searching for…

an In-N-Out in nearby St. Helena!

:::cue the heavenly host of angels that truly wanted us to have caffeine and red meat because they did want that for us, they did:::

The parking lot was packed and there was but one parking spot available…a handicapped spot. J reached over into his glove box and pulled out his totally legit handicapped parking placard and placed it on his dash as he whispered to me, “don’t tell my mom I did this.”

Are you kidding me? I’m getting a diet coke and a burger. I’m good. Wait a minute. J has every right to park in a handicapped space because living with cerebral palsy he is indeed handicapped. He is the Fall Guy! But his mom raised him differently. Yes CP mangled his limbs in such a way that walking was painful and sometimes impossible. Yes he did fall down a lot as a child, as a teen, as a young man. Whatever! She raised him to not rely on that which limited him rather to rely on that which freed him…his brilliant mind, his wit, his story-telling, his incredible strength that gave him the ability to try to keep up to those high school aged kids we were in charge of as he tried to navigate all those freaking stairs at that Seventh Day Adventist college in the Napa Valley.

Seriously, my respect and admiration for J and his amazing mom (who is also a friend) doubled, tripled and even quadrupled that day. This was a man of integrity…raised by a women of integrity. They both could very well rest on that which twisted and tortured J’s body into something that was a little to the left of what is “normal”. But they did not. At least J’s mom did not and raised J to not. Yes he did from time to time fall back on the “privilege” oif being physically limited…handicapped. He had the handicap placard which he rarely used then and now. He has “enjoyed” the privilege of navigating Disneyland and Great America and Magic Mountain in a wheelchair and he has been known to include friends and family who have been with him to enjoy the privilege of handicap with him.

J is an amazing young man. J has cerebral palsy which has twisted and distorted his limbs in such a way that walking, much less standing is painful and sometimes nearly impossible. He might not always rely on this privilege that is being handicapped but when he does need it, it is there for him and he will use it.

So thinking about J, thinking about the amazing mom who raised him, thinking of dear friends who are raising children who are living with their own disabilities you wonder what I might think of rich Manhattan moms who hire handicapped tour guided so their kids can cut lines at Disney World or what I might think about airports in the US that are dealing with bogus requests for wheelchair assistance to enjoy the privilege of jumping security lines and early boarding access ahead of everyone else or those who use their sister’s or mother’s or auntie’s disabled parking placards so they can avoid parking fees or access to convenient parking without the disabled person with them.

Well…

all I can say is welcome! Welcome to your very own special place in hell! You so deserve it! You might not be enjoying it at this very moment…then again given recent news reports you are likely in the thick of it. Still you might not be so privileged to be reaping the rewards that you so richly deserve, but trust me, you will. You most definitely will. Lucky, lucky you!

 

my curses are for real


I’m starting to regret cursing my children with children JUST LIKE THEM someday. Hazel is just like her mommy at every age and stage that she has been through so far. Soon to be five year old Hazel is just like almost five year old Hollie was…just in case anyone is ever wondering what Hollie was like when she was a little girl.

Oh wait!

Soon to be five year old Hazel does not pray daily, out loud for a baby sister. I am pretty sure her mommy has pointed to my children to show her what happens when you do something like that. But everything else about Hazel is so much like her mommy at that age it is a little bit scary…and pretty cool because Hollie was a pretty awesome little girl. Then she grew into preteens and teens…oh dear…sorry Hollie.

Fallon, on the other hand, is nothing like her mommy at age 18 months. No. Fallon is actually her mommy when she was around age 14…except for the fact that Fallon isn’t potty trained.

I’m thinking since she has spent the last eighteen months raging against the world she has maybe three, maybe four more years of rage left in her…wishing…hoping…praying. I’m sorry Hollie. I am so sorry that I ever cursed you. Then again, your rages often drove me to curse you.

Hang in there baby! If I survived, you can too.

You too, Fallon! I mean your mommy survived. Hurray for being so gosh darn cute!

if it’s love


Ear worm in my head right now…

While everybody else is getting out of bed
I’m usually getting in it
I’m not in it to win it
And there’s a thousand ways you can skin it…

I confess you are the best thing in my life…

If it’s love
And we decide that it’s forever
No one else could do it better…

Then suddenly I hear something else…

Chirp…chirp…chirp…

I walk through the Big Top listening carefully…

Chirp…chirp…chirp…

Damn these smoke detectors!

Chirp…chirp…chirp…

Found it!

It’s in one of the kids’ bedrooms. No problem. I grab the step ladder and a 9 volt battery and (BOOM!) I replace it.

Chirp…chirp…chirp…

Seriously?!

Honey, can you please check the smoke detector in Daniel’s room. It’s chirping.

Now?! (it’s 9:45 at night, bedtime for someone who has to get up at 4AM)

Yes, now.

I replaced that battery two weeks ago.

Well I just now replaced the battery and it is still chirping. Maybe I put it in wrong or something else. Can you please check it?

:::grumble:::

Seriously, honey. I know you’ll have no problem sleeping through that chirping all night but I know that I won’t and neither will Daniel. Can you please just check?

So he checks…with a little bit more grumbling…but he does check and it chirps no more.

Thank you.

Yeah…

Where was I? Oh yeah…

If it’s love
And we’re two birds of a feather
Then the rest is just whatever
And if I’m addicted to loving you…

Getting ready for bed, my little ear worm is interrupted yet again. There’s a damp bath mat on the floor in front of the shower.

UGH!

Really, how hard can it be to pick it up and hang it over the shower door, I grumble to myself as I pick it up. I want to shout it and wake up my darling husband but…

And you’re addicted to my love too
We can be them two birds of a feather
That flock together
Love, love
Got to have something to keep us together
Love, Love
That’s enough for me…

For thirty years now we have been loving and annoying the hell out of each other. That’s a very long time…a lifetime…our lifetime.

If it’s love
And we’re two birds of a feather
Then the rest is just whatever

If it’s love
And we decide that it’s forever
No one else could do it better
And if I’m addicted to loving you
And you’re addicted to my love too
We can be them two birds of a feather
That flock together
Love, love
Got to have something to keep us together
Love, love
Got to have something to keep us together
Love, love
That’s enough for me

Happy anniversary my darling husband. It’s been quite the adventure the last thirty years what with raising five clowns, including the one who decided to be born on our anniversary 17 years ago…Happy birthday Jodie!...and driving each other crazy with honey-do lists and leaving wet towels on the floor. But we are definitely in it to win it together.

Now if only we had the money to celebrate it properly.

Oh well.

Happy anniversary my love!

those hormones I warned y’all about


Oh dear glob they are bubbling up…and they ain’t no female, pms-y kind of hormones either!

My sweet boy, my beautiful son is 11 years old and the hormones are starting to bubble up. No, they aren’t a raging, rolling boil…yet. But they are just at the boiling point and…

I’m not liking it.

Not.

One.

Bit.

I have survived four girls through the transition of child to stinky pre-teen to raging adolescence. This can not possibly be hard for me anymore.

No way!

I’ve got this.

Totally.

I believed that.

I truly did.

I thought wrong.

Oh my goodness! My sweet little boy suddenly is one big gloomy, grumpy, irritated, annoyed person and he is directing that flood of emotions at me…complete with heavy sighs and eye rolls.

WHAT?!?

What indeed, son. We both are wondering what right now. Although I have to confess that my “what” is actually a three word “what“.

Then this comes on.

Oh my darling boy! Not a day goes by where I am not reminded just how fortunate, how so damn lucky we are…

you are.

Yesterday was one of those days. My heart breaks for another family, another amazing, brave and strong one like you. So I close my eyes and cry hot tears while I offer up a quick thanks for you…and say a prayer for the other. Then I say thank you for these hormones that are just beginning to bubble up to a boil because I get to experience them…again…with you.