tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46469198770926269242024-02-02T01:10:21.459-05:00Sunny DayJenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.comBlogger161125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-2078031315143588162011-06-17T09:07:00.000-04:002011-06-17T09:07:35.007-04:00I Want Cookie<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Update on the previous post. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">We're working on him using a sentence to express his needs. "I want...." </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">It's not that he's never put three words together, but other word combinations are him repeating things from stories or repeating phrases the boys use. For example, "We'll be back, right after these messages." Now granted, someone other than a family member might have no idea what he's saying, so I don't know if it counts. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">He's had success a few times in the last couple of days with his "I want..." sentence. The first one he said WITHOUT prompting: He came up to me in the kitchen and said with no hesitation between the want and the object, "I want cookie." And of course, he got a cookie...and lots of hugs and praise for using words! </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Another one he said unprompted two nights ago: "I want pie." And the one last night: "I want cake." Notice a theme? </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">The pie one I was quite impressed with. He had helped me make a strawberry banana cream pie last week (for our anniversary...22 years!), so he did have that for a snack two nights in a row, but when he used that sentence, it was already gone. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">And the cake, John's birthday was recently; it's not like we have pie and cake all the time at our house! ;)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Still working on making it consistent. He gets anxious when he knows he "on the spot." </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Good stuff</span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-16355380596124600042011-06-14T15:58:00.004-04:002011-06-14T16:08:07.861-04:00Communication<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">One of Evan's first form of communicating that he wanted something, such as juice, a snack, to watch a favorite commercial again, etc., was signing "more." It worked for so much. For something on tv, it's still what he'll sometimes do. For juice, he moved on to saying "juice," or sometimes just "please" when it's obvious what he wants, or just handing me the cup! He still tries the "just handing me the cup" trick, but he's not getting away with it so easily.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">We're working on making a sentence. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">I want juice. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"> Yes, having the please on the end would be</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"> great</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">, but we're not there yet. We're still working on the three words. How it's been working is he'll come up to me, hand me the cup, I'll say "what do you want?" or "what would you like", and he gets all nervous with a huge smile while giggling. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Then I say, "Say, 'I want juice.'" More giggling, but eventually, he'll say, "I want." And then I say, "What do you want." And then he'll say, "juice." </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Yesterday, he did come up to me without prompting and said the "I want" part. This morning after being prompted, he said, "I want," and before I could ask the question, he said, "What do you want?" ...understood by a trained ear. :) </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">We'll soon have those three words said together to make a sentence. </span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-24684176824104971272011-06-08T09:24:00.011-04:002011-06-08T14:19:45.230-04:00He's a Reader<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Before Evan was born, I had decided that no matter what that X chromosome looked liked (we didn't know until a year old), this child would be a reader. I wanted him to want to read. </span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Some of the "tools" we've used to help accomplish this:</span></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNf-vl2vYZNuFHTaOtQ323W0f7Mll2zSaoFfRbOascUj5lCKkXj2r3Gl0szHm3oPbO4-GA3IR3c_RVgpFpFpj88cZocM6jgFEWtfdrBDRvaZ_CTHCgwmGCSVpzVzuMIUCcKUaS5vYiM1W/s1600/DSC_0674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNf-vl2vYZNuFHTaOtQ323W0f7Mll2zSaoFfRbOascUj5lCKkXj2r3Gl0szHm3oPbO4-GA3IR3c_RVgpFpFpj88cZocM6jgFEWtfdrBDRvaZ_CTHCgwmGCSVpzVzuMIUCcKUaS5vYiM1W/s400/DSC_0674.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">This has been a favorite toy for a few years. When he went through what seemed like a never ending stage of waking up at night, he had access to this--the letters light up. Sometimes he used it, sometimes he didn't. It's a great one!</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/LeapFrog-19138-AlphaPet-Explorer/dp/B001W2WKRQ/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1307535498&sr=8-4" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0JcfJG7WIwEbAzRvE0140o_EbV54MDNOjA8zbzX2SiFv5E8_Cpa7wwsEnTsAejLt2du5Zb3hdHDyMm2tP8SvSSuHK90CVor7a1UpMURnCjdxz0s7dsEUCB9Nd1oZXCtV9aLjJ7YWAq7O/s400/51gggFdiGiL._AA300_.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">image from amazon.com</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Here's another good one; it's at grandma's house right now. He likes the first one a little better (and so do I), but it's still a good one.</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR0pnvyeHmlrVRrsdT_GaKnMYo8Q6f8nXfbMwEkFP78_SaV3az6TxXoVbjvzu5DkFvL8cuaJvRqBXAfuLBItxXnBLdCx_JUrzMI81KzZNOuUvc8dWZsgOipkKB1FKp4eZsvLafxCuifJK/s1600/DSC_0676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR0pnvyeHmlrVRrsdT_GaKnMYo8Q6f8nXfbMwEkFP78_SaV3az6TxXoVbjvzu5DkFvL8cuaJvRqBXAfuLBItxXnBLdCx_JUrzMI81KzZNOuUvc8dWZsgOipkKB1FKp4eZsvLafxCuifJK/s320/DSC_0676.jpg" width="212" /></span></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">These letters were VERY popular with him for a while. We started with him only having access to a few at a time at first, because if not, it was overwhelming and they would all get thrown on the floor. Now that we have two, he'll put matching letters in at the same time to hear the jingle simultaneously. Or sometimes, he staggers the placement of the same letters...it sounds pretty cool, too.</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">And I can't leave out Starfall.com. </span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"> I think we started using that when he was two? Maybe sooner. He would sit on my lap, and I would click on the letters. He soon started pointing to what he wanted to hear. And then as he was able to start verbalizing letters, he would say the letter. It would be me who would have to say, "All done," because I'm not sure how long we would be on the computer if I had waited for him to say it. </span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">And now there's the iPad. We have several stories on there. With many of them, the words highlight as they're being read. He can also touch the word and have it repeated as many times as he wants, which he loves to do. </span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">BUT,</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">this all started with the best reading program out there:</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">A book.</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_7pxdXE3mpg_P25zgDi5bDyHqRN215ryYFFrfKbGUrC5JK5xhOtAm8ARMlc1Dv-D5rvuAQzW9KvszFAi6b0dHk8OJAYkjFxMdV5-nt-884fFCo4LGjhsLyPBvAj9WecW9P1WNKowP0rRL/s1600/DSC_0682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_7pxdXE3mpg_P25zgDi5bDyHqRN215ryYFFrfKbGUrC5JK5xhOtAm8ARMlc1Dv-D5rvuAQzW9KvszFAi6b0dHk8OJAYkjFxMdV5-nt-884fFCo4LGjhsLyPBvAj9WecW9P1WNKowP0rRL/s320/DSC_0682.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">I started reading to him the day I brought him home from the hospital.</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">I read to him, a lot. Some days, especially on weekends and in the summer, it probably adds up to hours of reading. When my mom watched him, I asked her to read to him. He's always had full access to books. Granted, giving full access to books meant he often had books...all over the floor in his bedroom. And yes, he went through a stage of tearing the pages, sometimes one, sometimes multiple, sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. This behavior most certainly wasn't encouraged; he would get a stern talking to when this would happen. </span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">And then if it was salvageable, I would get out the clear packing tape. This tape was also used for the corners of the pages. He had/has this thing about gently biting his thumb while having a corner of the page in/near his mouth while reading. I found that this tape came in handy for preventative measures, too, for some of his favorites; I just taped the edges of every page! Some of the favorites, like the animal babies series I got for him when he was 6 months old, ended up having to be replaced.</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Animal-Babies-Grasslands-Jennifer-Schofield/dp/075345789X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1307527&sr=8-1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbqoG4NTTVFi_EGX0T52gF7vGvSVxvo_YG0qk8kTD55pLIH0lejQ5P_Q092EadOlnvGDbf8fG3S8SJwqZMNNloZ-_Rtd0glH6DzjV6v9a6hiNr4VbbGR87XiCOu90Ab8EfJGQo4rGHf0Wv/s1600/31mWd9kjOYL._BO2%252C204%252C203%252C200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click%252CTopRight%252C35%252C-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" /></a></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://Amazon.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Amazon.com</span></a></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">We have books...everywhere. He brings books with him when we go places. When we read, I point to the words. We point to the pictures and talk about them. I ask questions about the book. Does he answer? Sometimes, sometimes no. But is he thinking about the questions? Yes. Is he learning to think about what he's reading? Yes. </span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">And now at five years old, I'm starting to see the results. He has many words memorized. Animal ones were the first, but now he's also started to recognize other words, like "but;" he knows the word "but." He knows the word "the." I haven't quizzed him on what words he does and doesn't know; they're are others. Those two just stand out at this moment.</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">He's started to attend to the first letter. I'll sometimes stop and ask him what the word is. He'll sometimes get the first sound or even say (or attempt to say) a word that starts with that sound. Yesterday, we were looking at one of his animal books...encyclopedia type...and there was a picture of some colorful, different kind of vulture. He looked at the paragraph next to it, and he found a word a couple of sentences in, "perfect." He pointed to it and said "parrot." </span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">He points to the words when he "reads." When I read to him, he often asks me to point to the words--if I start reading and I'm not pointing, he'll start running his finger under the words and look at me.</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">And I'm loving this!</span></span></span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">So I'm off to read some books, because the answer to the question, "Do you want Mommy to read to you?" is almost never "no."</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU3tUVst3hyXG63V4KNUHEGlm5AGZ8qs8vf_RI7c08QuPpv61ocq3fbU1tHV-Jd7vf43jNDGQSrZsmX4XuaIszTyVjRp0Sf35J0sMxkIH07satoofGqAUAMvTICwFz0nZhA958kNqyB7vz/s1600/11037_1212008154834_1667681489_515611_251617_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU3tUVst3hyXG63V4KNUHEGlm5AGZ8qs8vf_RI7c08QuPpv61ocq3fbU1tHV-Jd7vf43jNDGQSrZsmX4XuaIszTyVjRp0Sf35J0sMxkIH07satoofGqAUAMvTICwFz0nZhA958kNqyB7vz/s320/11037_1212008154834_1667681489_515611_251617_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">His grandpa would be proud!</span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-31313544133375749582011-05-28T08:31:00.004-04:002011-05-28T08:45:51.121-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwq4X8fZTwYBmmzgkfDZvX-S0O7YAEQgwEPHKy_TrCQsRAbfUK4uOf0eQW3JBGiOfgroIBIimmXPznbhxvmnS-KIGUC27P6fvqMlqSI2rnfu_2OuuxV0AEy_j11RZ-a0aQoBTtC3JuYV4f/s1600/DSC_0489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwq4X8fZTwYBmmzgkfDZvX-S0O7YAEQgwEPHKy_TrCQsRAbfUK4uOf0eQW3JBGiOfgroIBIimmXPznbhxvmnS-KIGUC27P6fvqMlqSI2rnfu_2OuuxV0AEy_j11RZ-a0aQoBTtC3JuYV4f/s320/DSC_0489.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Evan on his 5th birthday. He's recently got to the point of being able to swing without me standing right there in preparation of him letting go. Yeah, he did fall a couple of times in the process. Now we're working on kicking those feet.</span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-59844120181721697132011-05-27T20:14:00.003-04:002011-05-28T12:46:52.718-04:00A Thomas Fan<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Kyle has always been a Thomas train fan. Evan has too, but at first, he couldn't play with them because he couldn't handle the excitement. Kyle would have trains going in his room, and Evan would purposely go to his room to see them, only to stand there and cry. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Gradually, he got to a point where he could play with them for a while before getting upset. Then, he went to not wanting anything to do with them again. Well, he's back to being a fan, and this time I don't think there's any going back. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">But that's not really what this post is about.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Evan ASKED for something!!!! For a while now, he's been asking for things like juice, milk, cookies, blankies, etc. by saying "Juice?, Milk?" etc. But this was the first time he's asked for a toy he wants from the store! </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">He recently got a new train for his birthday, and whenever you buy a train, you get one of those inserts showing other trains. Kyle used to carry them around all the time so he could constantly let us know who he needed next. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">Tonight, Evan came up to me with the insert, pointed to one of the trains, and said, "Want Percy?...Cow?" (it's Percy pulling a cow in an open car--two of his favorites together, a train and an animal)</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">YAY!!!!</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><br />
</span></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZcF9IsQtihnOkEtuWhHcloFsYIX2qLggV2BDL9pEk6g9JiSbJz844K0eOuoQ4YXgmBA-XHv5-477DwzcxNmVkgExm0gTS_sLeW0rgCWk9jQIrEDcG9do0aj3qQ4sYCwQzTqWXC8r1Yo3H/s1600/51nomE-OaRL._SL500_AA300_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZcF9IsQtihnOkEtuWhHcloFsYIX2qLggV2BDL9pEk6g9JiSbJz844K0eOuoQ4YXgmBA-XHv5-477DwzcxNmVkgExm0gTS_sLeW0rgCWk9jQIrEDcG9do0aj3qQ4sYCwQzTqWXC8r1Yo3H/s1600/51nomE-OaRL._SL500_AA300_.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;">So obviously, guess what he's getting as soon as I find it??? </span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-90213874725356915462011-05-14T15:10:00.001-04:002011-05-14T15:10:30.124-04:00Spots<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8hfVaTnhqHJnNCYnGDOs_XgIITOD0GY2TA1G8fKaOlha0nd87qEmT0DuoFu7SlUuSGW5ZV5Q25mYolynJs5NV-goDNhmBUAfJHNcbZchdPxvCzUPXOMtWfuFNzo-THtMUnAtm1IzJclv/s1600/DSC_0137_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim8hfVaTnhqHJnNCYnGDOs_XgIITOD0GY2TA1G8fKaOlha0nd87qEmT0DuoFu7SlUuSGW5ZV5Q25mYolynJs5NV-goDNhmBUAfJHNcbZchdPxvCzUPXOMtWfuFNzo-THtMUnAtm1IzJclv/s320/DSC_0137_2.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;">A little over a week after our trip, by airplane, this is how Evan woke up one morning. Face, back, stomach--covered-- and a few on the arms and legs. I brought him to the doctor, and because of his other symptoms, he thought possibly measles. So we went for blood work, and a couple of days later, we find out (after a couple of phone calls)...that it's inconclusive based on that test. This is because he's had his first round of mmr, so he would have certain levels of what they're looking at. I think, from the last I heard from the doctor, he'll be having another test on Monday. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;">At this point, although I'm curious as to what caused these spots, I'm just thankful that he's feeling much, much better now.</span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-83277014850644188882011-05-02T10:06:00.007-04:002011-05-14T15:13:02.985-04:00Airplane/I'm Kind of Tired<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We got back yesterday from my Mother-in-laws memorial service; she passed away from cancer in January. Sometimes it's still hard to believe all the losses we've suffered in the last year and a half. We miss her...</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Because it was going to be a quick out of state trip, we decided to fly by plane. John, Chelsey, and I do our share of traveling by plane, but when it's with the boys, we pack up the mini-van. This was the first flight for Evan, and the first time for the older two since they were around 3 and 1 (AWFUL experience). </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So naturally, I spent several days preparing and worrying (just a bit) about how this was all going to go down. This is what I had planned for: Matt was going to have an terrible time going through security, Matt probably wasn't going to be too happy about the plane, Kyle would go along with everything fairly easily, and Evan, oh Evan, was going to be a handful. So I spent time with Matt the day before talking about what was going to happen at the security check. I spent time telling Evan all about getting on a plane and going up in the air. And Kyle, well, he knew the general plan.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And this is what happened: Oops, forgot to tell Evan about the shuttle ride from parking lot to airport, although, really, I don't think it would have made a difference. He wasn't happy. And I thought, 'Here we go.' But once we got in the airport, he stopped screaming. And then, he discovered moving walkways, and I think that set the tone for the rest of his trip. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Security: We gave them a heads up, and the first guy, a 74 year old man (he told us), the one we gave our ID's to, was the kindest, gentlest, sweetest man. He told us how proud we should be proud of our family. Sometimes people don't realize how much of an impact their words can have--the positive kind of impact. Then it was time to take off our shoes and go through the detector. And as predicted, Matt's anxiety started up as soon as the shoes started coming off. And on his way through the detector, he slammed both sides of it with his fists. The high point, kudos to the security people; they were VERY understanding. Even though our kids can be so good at blending in at times, this was one time when it was so important to make sure all were aware of the situation, just in case. To sum up Matt's story, he was great the rest of the trip. He LOVES flying. He especially liked that they came around with snacks and beverages. He did much better going through security on the way home--no incident.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Kyle: He was good, he was cooperative, but.....</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Okay, so I thought he would be fine on the plane. And for the most part, although he didn't like it, he was "fine." Except the</span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> moment </span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">the wheels left the runway on that very first flight. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">He let out a scream unlike no other. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> And you know, although I couldn't see too many of the other passengers reactions, I didn't feel like people reacted. I'm guessing they did, I mean, everyone heard it, but I didn't even notice the ones near us turn around. My reaction? I laughed. He was sitting behind me, so he didn't see me laughing, but really, what he did is what I have felt like doing on some flights. And then there's the landing. "We're all going to die!!" Once again, maybe not all, but many people probably heard this. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So for the next flight of that day, we rapid-fire quizzed him heavily on NASCAR drivers, their car numbers, crew chief, and sponsors as plane was going down runway. It helped greatly to keep his mind occupied on something else. The flights home went smoothly, although he clearly wanted to go home, and his topic of conversation all through those flights was finding my caravan (parked at the airport). </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Then there's Evan. He surprised me in the best way. He likes flying. He did so well, of course, that's being said in a relative manner. For our first flight, we had to sit on our plane for almost an hour while they waited for an available gate. Thank you iPad and books. By the time we got on our second flight, which was delayed, he was tired. After we got up in the air, he kept himself entertained by buckling and unbuckling his seat belt. He's always had a thing for buckles and latches. Yeah, things were going good until...</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">the flight attendant who wasn't on duty, she was sitting behind us, apparently got annoyed with the "clicking" noise of the seat belt. (Oh yeah, when we were doing rapid fire questioning with Kyle, I could see her shaking her head). SO, she gets out of her seat and says to me, "You realize that's not a toy, right? You're going to need to make him stop playing with it." I think what bothers me most is the way it was said. I mean really, I know it's not a toy. I just gave an awkward smile; she caught me off guard. So, I made him stop playing with it. And although I felt badly about how upset he was for at least the next half hour, and I felt badly for the rest of the passengers, I just couldn't help thinking, "There, you like this better?" He ended up falling asleep near the end of the flight. His return trip went well, loved the Detroit airport and all its moving walkways, escalators, fountain, and elevated tram. Oh, yeah, and he had a fever that morning...Friday, too. Thankful for tylenol and motrin, and he's off to the doctor in about an hour. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">(Hmm, should probably read things a little closer before hitting "publish post." I don't know how what I know I typed disappeared.) At the first airport of yesterday's trip, we sat besides a woman who was looking at Evan and me while I read to him. One might say she was "staring," but I didn't think it was in a negative way. She asked how old he was. I think that's a common way for someone to say, "Hey, I noticed something is perhaps a bit different about your child, but I'm not sure what, and I'm not going to ask, so I'll ask how old he is, hoping you'll tell me more." Because really, is there a way to ask about the behaviors of someone's child? </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> Before I even said the words Fragile X...I had only got to the part about him having delays... she said she was a teacher and was wondering if he was on the spectrum. And you could tell she kind of was hesitant about what she had just said. I told her the very, very basics of Fragile X and gave her the web address for the foundation, because like so many, she had never heard of it. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So yeah, overall, good trip, but I must add that I was in bed by 8 last night. I never go to bed that early.</span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-58997965832796423842011-04-17T17:38:00.003-04:002011-04-17T21:42:19.662-04:00Maybe I'm Over-Thinking It<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I tend to like to think things through, probably to an extreme extent in some cases. But some things do deserve that thought time, such as Evan's transition to kindergarten next year.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Yes, my little boy is going to </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">kindergarten</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">. I know, it's the cry of most parents, but I still have to say it, How did he get so old so fast!?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We had the conference last week, and I thought I knew what I wanted heading in. We have two elementary schools in town; I work at one of them, and he goes to preschool at the other. The one I work at is the one that he should attend for kindergarten based on where we live. But, the other school has more special ed. options. So, a couple of weeks ago, I visited the classroom at the other school that I was fairly certain was </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">the one </span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">for Evan. I observed for about an hour, and my eyes watered up as I sat there thinking, yep, this is the right place for my son. Low number of students, mainstreaming, swing in classroom, sweet sweet teacher, etc. Yep, the right place.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Day of conference, I'm sitting around a table with the people I work with now and people I've worked with in the past. I'm really not sure if that is better or worse; I'm thinking it's just different.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Lots of positive things said about Evan's recent progress which we're seeing at home as well...good stuff. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> So in a nutshell, there were 3 choices presented. The most restricted class was eliminated from the get-go; we all agreed that wouldn't be the appropriate place (although I LOVE that teacher!!!). So it was a choice of the classroom I visited at the other school and the developmental kindergarten class at our school. And there seemed to be some leaning towards the latter.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Whoa. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> I hadn't given that second option much consideration before the conference. Hmm. Maybe not such a bad idea. When it was talked about, I started to believe that maybe it could work...an aide, small group, a great male teacher. Then the mother in me started thinking about, well, maybe it will work this year, but what about next? And maybe there won't be enough support. And maybe it's not such a good idea for him to be in the same building as me. And and and.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So, as of today, I haven't signed yet, but I'm 99% sure that's the direction we're heading. Yeah, 99.1% sure.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What's holding me back? Among other things, I think the biggy is my desire to protect him...have him in an environment where he is a little more sheltered. Have him somewhere where I don't see everything. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Ugh ugh ugh. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Yes, 99.2% sure.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #783f04; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-70930019143898958232011-04-01T20:07:00.017-04:002011-04-02T15:44:33.478-04:00I Hope You Get This<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">Dear Costumer at Local Restaurant,</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">Where do I begin? How about a little background. My 3 boys, 19, 17, and 4 have </span></span></span><a href="http://www.fragilex.org/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#996633;">Fragile X Syndrome</span></span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">. Never heard of it, huh? Well, I understand; we hadn't heard of it either until our oldest son got his diagnosis 16 years ago. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">Yes, raising </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">ANY</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"> child is challenging. I totally agree! Like you said, we all have our problems. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">You see, I think the reason I so quickly got within inches of your face to explain our situation after you offered your "advice" is because it's been building up inside me for 16 years! Crazy, right? I also had to get kind of close because it was loud in there. How ironic that I say that, isn't it, because yeah, my son was </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">greatly</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"> contributing to the volume in the there. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">Let me try to explain. Our 4 year old son sometimes has trouble diverting from the routines he is used to. We had to wait for our table, and he was a bit confused by that. Just going into a restaurant is very difficult for him right now (the noise, the odors, the people, etc); having to wait for our table was more than he could handle tonight. Like I told you, he was adjusting. You probably noticed he was doing </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">much</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"> better after we got a table. (I'm sure you noticed; we had such a great view of each other.) </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">Back to the "building up inside me for 16 years." You see, you're not the first person to offer "advice" that's been clear enough for me to hear.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"> You are the second. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">Yep, 16 years, and you're only the second person that has given "advice" to our family. Have others said things over the years? I'm going to guess, yes, but they made the decision to give their "advice" under their breathe, or maybe they just kept it in their head, so that I couldn't hear it. I respect that, but would appreciate it even more if people could find more constructive things to do with their time than to judge the situations of others. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"> And, believe it or not, we've had people give us compliments about our kids.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"> I know, you're in awe.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">That first piece of "advice" I overheard? I was in line at large store, the kids were approximately 5, 3, and 1 (we also have a daughter, she was the 5 year old). As we were going through the check-out, both of the boys were in the throws of a complete meltdown. How I even heard the "advice" the woman behind me in the check-out said to the other woman, I'll never know; my kids were so loud! I'm guessing she wanted me to hear it, so she said it in a manner that would put her voice over that of my boys. Her words have stuck with me all these years: </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"> "I hope she doesn't have any more kids; she can't handle the ones she has!" </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"> Yes, I remember it verbatim. And I think the reason for that is that back then, I was </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">weak</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">And I agreed with her. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"> Well, not really...at least not always, but in that moment I did. So instead of saying anything to her, I brought my screaming kids to the van and cried along with them. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">And to this day, I wish I could chat with that woman, face to face...</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">Ok, so tonight. Yes, he was loud. I agree. Yes, I needed to bring him "out those doors." I was planning on heading that way. Having to chat with you ending up delaying that happening.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">Oh hey, guess what, Ms. Customer!</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">? </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"> It's Autism Awareness Month. Many children with Fragile X have autistic characteristics. Some have autism. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">Consider yourself a little more aware about hidden disabilities now than you were before you walked into that restaurant. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;">You're Welcome!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-78434706054183530572011-02-25T13:00:00.020-05:002011-02-28T17:47:02.512-05:00The Snowy Day<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:medium;">Another snow day we'll have to make up, but I'm okay with that. Today has been a GREAT day so far! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This winter, we've had a fair amount of snow, but Evan hasn't wanted to participate in any snowy outdoor activities. We had attempted outdoor adventures a couple of times, but he only lasted a few minutes each time, before he would let me know that he was done.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ironically, his </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">favorite </span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">book right now is </span></span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The Snowy Day</span></span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">, by Ezra Jack Keats. He, my daughter, and I all have it memorized. It made me kind of sad that he loved the book so much, but how could he fully connect to it, when he hadn't experienced those basic winter activities?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So today, when we were fortunate to have this snow day from school, I decided early on that we were going to live that book today.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Because he slept in this morning, when he woke up, it was already light out. I went into his room to greet him, and after our "Good Morning!" I carried him to the window and started reciting the first page of the story when the little boy is waking up and looking out his window and seeing the snow, only I inserted Evan's name. Big smile on his face. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Midway through the morning, I excitedly explained to him how we were going to go outside, including the different events from the story. He respectfully disagreed, well, okay, he whined a bit, but I kept the enthusiasm up. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And here's the rest of our story...</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#330000;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#330000;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9MEiTw-j5HGy1N1nnbcq9VpY3LUSavyJpfxsKqiViJkuz7hJuNwe9r5bgud5jeFwWZCEPq5MVHxUtCvmcF6z1bjV26kSPwuQLPNsYes7Mw7weH1nDLucVmlQ5bQGTN-E3z_ZeLkIZRDCS/s400/DSC_0454.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577693350731200082" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Evan and his mom headed out the door into freshly fallen snow in the backyard. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Crunch, crunch, crunch!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">His boots sank into the snow.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qroL0NklsVEXnvcWaGe9Ua5hBEuhhZAk6cwfgGsmwLQblqm8hc7xCHxe2vakToOxfAlaCCjsOFYf0jnSn6oNpl4QSAVjh_UMQ0Cy9YkW-3uaXzEhop06JmMXxn5zUD1Ol6zHSsedcbeX/s1600/DSC_0451.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5qroL0NklsVEXnvcWaGe9Ua5hBEuhhZAk6cwfgGsmwLQblqm8hc7xCHxe2vakToOxfAlaCCjsOFYf0jnSn6oNpl4QSAVjh_UMQ0Cy9YkW-3uaXzEhop06JmMXxn5zUD1Ol6zHSsedcbeX/s400/DSC_0451.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577693341246609522" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">In the distance, Evan spotted something...</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMIc4v_KJRWXnni9jqMDsFozPPMOG0fiKX21kyzp7Pi6SW8JhOxMJYSq2d9QojJAdFc9apHQ3If0MVg1-d5PdU-WycKtNHF6tksTECovjraxVBgS4_TwbXvmWhJ71nJE4FChzGQiBIYOts/s400/DSC_0491.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577694392655751826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was a stick, poking out through the snow. He understood the endless possibilities of what he could do with this stick.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyTZSgEYkXk9i41eFIVKjP-4-Epjpl9zay-kxKHBds2SYOB1OITq81olLQnbqIg6qM5nFJTF7-20C2LVbQ1IxpBY8zYXWEVG9V5hDFRDd-PVZNOKbVQ-mpbIp4a5In-wAJ7o25wT75Fu4O/s400/DSC_0452.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577693343775176914" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiUWylNyOiRwlK4778vZOzHYbQoakt-lbf4iTz-Dw_Uk2tgyEeYElVBh_3jdj0_o7atO0npGawPvYgKUe4dhBqo3KcfFgk2_BNzgEC4vrrMUCsB71MKEIJD2yyplwv2o9UHrki8iUHASRF/s400/DSC_0486.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577694388771922226" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He first decided to drag the stick in the snow to make a track.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0KSAjyHIM1QPXmOCHqbc1sLwDPZ7hRqQQ_pOhFabtqqMB9XRUa64mtNAVE1PfyWY9AlKN56N-j635MRmVW0nvL9F_akBj1UXk6CsbyS1hRds9O3JmI66n_DhTeuAMBta0cEJBgQD6Fj1I/s400/DSC_0483.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577694382697160850" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He then ran to the tree with the stick raised high in the air. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Smack, smack, smack!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> To his delight, the bright, white snow fell softly onto his coat.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVOylYcUQ9vknjb7GSI1VeibemrnPV_sWuyF3GMWG03e0o_DfhCT3vEA1vJ2rA_hj2QVzK_gqC5Fam2_w9UmfHF696zGogA8nC6yrImGz-9hZqRiznEsBv5yzO1w4aFDte7ueBPdF4_XQd/s400/DSC_0469.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577693354598016242" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">With his mother's help, Evan made the best snowman he had ever seen! He helped scoop up the snow and pack it on to the small ball of snow to make it bigger and bigger and bigger.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Scoop, scoop, scoop!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Pack, pack, pack!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> After pushing the arms into place, they stood back and looked with amazement at their new friend, Mr. Snowman.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWFAQ4vYhYDegYO6UbhgGaGAmtOdKjov54garSpSJDjrxaV-ll7j2JoU-kbyZVg5MsRRvxxaOtd2GZEL04s-qnDQLSvzeq2QKneaKPtPfxHF4RI5O03sb1fL5ZgWgAK4VzjgAZJXNO0NPw/s400/DSC_0474.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577693356765682642" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Evan thought about going inside, but soon discovered that there was more fun to be had.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzfnk7tclgHJLuVGO_i8qpPhySxsQR3maEgMNyvfK_8vgsI6m32xQfmGx9gYJUPN4gu6eVJHVeZLv6zUiZo_PSNtD7go7GmnXcopi2BrMxV74DjYQ61emJycCMnm1Ji8B0CA_SUfA_vjo1/s400/DSC_0477.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577694381489678258" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">He turned around to see the silliness of his mother while she lay in the snow waving her arms and legs. To his delighted surprise, when she stood up, there was a snow angel on the ground!</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP987k6WnOplehbc44zumAYKwg7dG1lW4ca0C4tyWNRZ7e0XQhxu_6AdNxUDELn2OkphaPTfAaTFiAVonFFjqTMbd90kYPQUlJoIsmgARHjec8zxdoOEOTli3bGzMEbLQFFg4SyePzhEhk/s400/DSC_0476.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577694374782974162" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Before heading inside to the warmth of the house, Evan looked all around the yard at the beauty of the snow.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:Georgia, serif;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk4X6zH-oFd708kgfQY4j6o-CtxcKKwMQ0zWrqZeKzilIJFQEfHyvBXJjrxqRQ7NnuFcYUfbAGPIUQK3mHG3x4mC8EyByEhnjpZZazkcOZUPAJTV2buIt7IEUQe6AWxuTFeH916DJIAtgh/s1600/DSC_0495.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk4X6zH-oFd708kgfQY4j6o-CtxcKKwMQ0zWrqZeKzilIJFQEfHyvBXJjrxqRQ7NnuFcYUfbAGPIUQK3mHG3x4mC8EyByEhnjpZZazkcOZUPAJTV2buIt7IEUQe6AWxuTFeH916DJIAtgh/s400/DSC_0495.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577694962803858642" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">He knew that one day, he would happily venture out into the snow again.</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Crunch, crunch, crunch</span><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-779023913001158692011-01-03T19:06:00.004-05:002011-01-03T19:20:24.873-05:00A New Skill<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; color: rgb(51, 0, 0); ">Today, Evan demonstrated that he understands an important childhood skill: he went in the computer room and closed the door so that I couldn't see what he was doing. Yay!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We got the kids a portable dvd player for Christmas; it's been several years since they've had a portable. The main user of it, so far, has been our movie man, Kyle. Evan loves observing his brothers, and apparently, he's been observing what this new, blue, plastic thing is, although I never noticed him doing this. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But today, he showed us that he knew how to use it. He put in one of his new dvd's, Animal Planet. He can't get enough of watching or "reading" about animals. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So I was proud of him for figuring this out, but cautioned him about the need to find somewhere to sit while viewing the movie. He wasn't too fond of staying in one place with it, after all, it's portable! He also figured out how to see his favorite part--the first 5 minutes--over and over. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Basically, he had enough of my suggestions, so he went in the computer room and shut the door. The only other time he's ever shut this door is when I'm vacuuming in the other rooms. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">After having a good laugh with Chelsey about how cute this was, I went in to check on him. And after I left the room, the door shut again. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I'm so proud of this new understanding...at least for today. </span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-64540688232058536042010-12-22T23:25:00.005-05:002010-12-23T00:02:50.909-05:00Home Movies<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:medium;">A couple of weeks ago, John came back from his parents' house in Florida with their car and a few boxes. His mom, battling cancer, is now living with his sister in CT. One of the things he brought back was a VHS that I had sent to them...around 20 years ago! So of course, I had to pop it in the vcr; the only one we have is on the little tv in Chelsey's room.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Over the years, I've taken a lot of video, but besides maybe looking at it right then, I don't go back to look at them. So, this was quite a treat. It was Chelsey, back in the day when the world revolved around her. Wow, watching her talk and interact, at what seemed like such a young age...it was like we were watching a genius! :) We kind of forget what other kids can do. Right now, I'm so impressed with Evan's progress. It's not that "I forget" that he's not where a 4 year old should be; I guess I just don't think about it too much. Hey, that's a good thing! :)</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Yesterday, day 2 of a nasty stomach bug, and I'm still taking it easy, I started watching videos on our 8 mm that I haven't used in a couple of years. This time, it was mainly Kyle and Matt, 10 and 8. Another, wow. First, hearing their voices at first was so strange; it was like I didn't remember them ever sounding like that. And then, of course, I noticed just how cute they were. :)</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The really funny thing was, was that I heard them each say a phrase they both sometimes still say. They were playing with a castle, and Matt said, "You're under arrest!" He still says that at times, although it's progressed to "Get on the ground!" (he likes to use these phrases on our animals...in a good way.) Yeah, he likes the show COPS. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Kyle phrase was "I sure wish the gang could see this." The gang, of course, is the Scooby Doo Detective Agency. Yeah, that gang, for years he's been wanting to head out to Coolsville to see them. :) </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I only watched about 20 minutes yesterday, and then a little more today. Evan watched it with me today...on the small screen of the video camera. He liked the part where Kyle was playing with trains, but then when it went to another part, he started tapping the screen and sliding his finger on the screen. The modern child. He's so used to watching videos on our phones and being able to stop, start, and go back to videos. He was getting a little frustrated that he wasn't getting the same results with this. </span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-49207007567560035422010-12-17T17:51:00.003-05:002010-12-17T18:35:08.138-05:00Best Buds and Evy J<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The boys are out for their Christmas get together with their Best Buddies. And I'll say it again, I LOVE THAT PROGRAM! They are partnered up with amazing high school girls. For Kyle, this is his 4<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> Best Buddy, and she's definitely a keeper! For Matt, this is his third year with the same girl...a completely awesome person who plans on getting a degree in special ed. For these girls, it's not like they signed up so it looks good on their transcripts; they're genuinely wonderful young women. So thankful!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Evan...what to say about Evan!? Well, our nights are better!!! Finally! It only took four years, but I can say with confidence that he is now a good sleeper. He still may not sleep as many hours as many his age, but when he falls asleep, HE STAYS ASLEEP! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Yay</span>! Sleep makes such a difference in my life; it feels so good. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Words, we're hearing new words all the time, and it's music to my ears. His latest--new this week--is "yeah." Before when we would ask him if he wanted something, he would respond with "peas," so polite of him. But his "yeah" is so darn cute. He says it almost as a question; it makes me laugh every time! Another recent, and quite appropriate this time of year, "Ho ho ho, Merry <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Kismas</span>," and the word that every mother waits to hear started this past summer, "Mommy!" He says that...a lot now! He's getting really good at being able to repeat words when we ask him to. It's beautiful, simply beautiful.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Potty trained, completely during the day. We somewhat had it summer of 2009 when he was 3, but then the school year happened, and it slid down on the list of priorities. As soon as summer break of 2010 started, we went straight to underwear. And within a week or two, he joined the ranks of the potty trained. I was concerned about what would happen once school started, but it's been fine. Only one accident, and it was when they had a fire drill. Night time hasn't happened yet, but right now, it's not even a concern. I'm just so excited about how well he does during the day!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And you know what? I'm thoroughly enjoying life with Evan now. Hopefully, that doesn't sound "awful," because of course, I've always loved him more than life, loved being with him, had many wonderful mommy moment with him. It's just, I guess, taking care of him isn't as emotionally exhausting anymore. Having number 4 after the other 3 were considerably older was a bit of a shock to the system. He entered our family when our family dynamics were different. The biggest change, I was no longer a stay a home mom. That definitely contributed to me feeling drained for so long. He doesn't have playmates around the house. Before, not only did I have our 3, but I also took care of a couple of others. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And yeah, getting the positive diagnosis for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">fx</span> took it's toll on me, even if I was "prepared." Maybe more than any of the other reasons I listed.</span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-73758684887388463062010-12-10T06:56:00.007-05:002010-12-10T10:27:31.381-05:00Hello, Blog<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's been a few months, and what am I blogging about? Illness, well, kind of. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Evan is staying home with me today because he's throwing up...again. He had a stomach bug a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, and then on Monday and Tuesday of this week, he had a mild stomach bug. But this isn't about how many times he's been sick, because actually, I think he's quite the healthy little boy! </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">This is just some frustration being let out that he can't tell people that he's not feeling well. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">His note from school yesterday said he had a "rough day." He missed playtime because he wasn't cooperating for activities. It just makes me kind of sad to think about the frustration he must feel, not only in that situation, but for so many times in life when he's frustrated, can't control the situation, and can't verbalize his feelings about it. He's had other "rough days" at school, and </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">most</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> of them have preceded being sick (I think it's almost safe to say </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">all of them</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">), whether it's his stomach or the start of a new cold. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So that's it. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> I'm staying home today. MAYBE, I'll get back on here so I can update all the progress he's made! This really is the only place where I keep track of milestones, besides the occasional facebook status. ;)</span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-6870266852595143212010-08-09T20:28:00.013-04:002010-08-09T23:23:23.239-04:00It's Just Different<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I'm taking care of an almost 5 year old and a 7 year old this evening for a few hours. Even though I'm with kids all day during the school year, it's different having them in my house. I mean, different in the fact that I'm not used to hearing conversation in my house from young children. Different because the one who is almost five (9 months older than Evan) has asked me over 2000 questions in a 2 hour period (at least it feels like that many). Different because they are running around the house playing good guy/ bad guy. Different because they use the phrase, "I'm bored." Different because they aren't content to sit and look at a book for long periods of time...or at all (at least not while they're at our house where everything is "new" to them). Different because the WANT me to play games with them (we just finished BINGO). </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Just kind of funny. Evan can be such a handful, but I'm reminded tonight that "other" kids....they're kind of tiring, lol. I mean, I knew that already. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It's just different. </span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-69259846578158491192010-08-03T13:16:00.008-04:002010-08-04T16:19:41.699-04:00A Fish Tale<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He's the smallest fish in the fish tank. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Like the rest of the fish, I don't have a name for "him," in fact, until recently, I never really took note of him.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">A couple of days ago, though, he got my attention...he was in the bubble tube. I got really nervous, because he looked like he was distressed...fighting his way down through the bubbles, panicking because because he didn't know how to get out. I called John in from outside because he's the fish tank supervisor; I had no idea had to get the fish out. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe01v832dSNRNdKmLs-8QLJPqv3gJJwnoTzJJwALgmJ64t_E4qqIfxrxfmvvyXnpwSU5EvKkojQCyImkW4nkNkk1Rmz6GL20yiVzxU0c2fwJYTSGaZ6M2SmXsSHkKOO30TkScL72L2xBYx/s1600/CIMG0700.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe01v832dSNRNdKmLs-8QLJPqv3gJJwnoTzJJwALgmJ64t_E4qqIfxrxfmvvyXnpwSU5EvKkojQCyImkW4nkNkk1Rmz6GL20yiVzxU0c2fwJYTSGaZ6M2SmXsSHkKOO30TkScL72L2xBYx/s400/CIMG0700.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501241376388041570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">John opened a few things, pulled out the air bubbler thingy, and then fish gradually swam to the top of the tube and with only about a 1/4 in of water clearance, made his way out. Phew. Crisis averted. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">...until about an hour later. The little fish did it again. Apparently, there's a little plastic piece that broke off of the top of the tube thingy, and he's so little, that he's the only fish we have that could fit through this new opening. Once again, I felt a little panicked, but not as much as before. Once again, John got him out. And once again, okay, several more times over a two day period, this fish ended up in the tube. Each time, I felt I had to rescue him (I paid attention to the rescue operation John had performed so that I now could perform it.)</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So I wasn't at all surprised today to see the fish in the tube, only as I started to take things apart, he showed me that maybe I was rescuing someone that didn't want or need to be rescued. He quickly swam to the top of the tube and made his way out the tiny space that he had entered through before I had a chance to take things apart. Hmmm....maybe he's not so helpless after all....</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But now there's a new dilemma, or at least I perceive it as being one. As the kids and I stood there watching him (it is entertaining), he kept struggling more and more going against the bubbles, trying to reach the bottom, which in hindsight, is what I think he's been working towards the whole time. And reach the bottom he did...and more. He "disappeared." He went "under" the tank. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Once again, panic set in. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Chelsey got her phone (also known as an emergency flashlight) and opened the doors to the cabinet. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And there he was.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJftOELVJVQrE0yB42xZjp3I_yZi9DTFG4Bff-wfbS4VwANJ8bayeMFbzWx-LcYpJ33psVgWzsrmCyxl5xxhxokfc_xv0ZuyZLyzc2ImVw8zp2KJPFO16pMpm8iRHpMLfzu7y9W3-ItGj3/s1600/CIMG0695.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJftOELVJVQrE0yB42xZjp3I_yZi9DTFG4Bff-wfbS4VwANJ8bayeMFbzWx-LcYpJ33psVgWzsrmCyxl5xxhxokfc_xv0ZuyZLyzc2ImVw8zp2KJPFO16pMpm8iRHpMLfzu7y9W3-ItGj3/s400/CIMG0695.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501241371193658338" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He was below the plastic bottom that is below the gravel.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Now, in this underneath world, there's very little room for movement. There's pockets of water among "ick" and rocks that have slid under there . He can't freely swim or turn around. I thought I was going to have to somehow disassemble the flooring to free him.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He proved me wrong again.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He wiggled, scooted backwards, and made his way back into the tube. I thought for sure, he was now as panicked as I had been and wanted out. So I again removed the air tube to assist him in getting out, which he did slowly, and I wasn't sure if this was a sign of how tired he was or if it was a sign of his reluctance to come out. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Phew, he won't do that again! Wrong again. After a 10 minute break, he went right back in, and forced his way to the underneath world. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Now, here's the thing. The piece where he's entering should be replaced. But, yet, I'm so "proud" of his perseverance...I've never seen such a purposeful action from a fish. He's having an adventure, although this adventure could end his life. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Fix it, and he goes back to his hum-drum life of swimming in the water. Leave it be, and he continues his dangerous, thrill-seeking ways.....</span></span></span></div><div><br /></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-1272058208129045302010-07-27T13:53:00.010-04:002010-08-03T13:53:35.833-04:00Qualifying for the Brickyard<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivrodVNwf1d3HKwrVxquhmZttCeIwNvaDhnEW6ScbYmbaGkOpusUyzW4l9AzPWRm9bMj3OXBOediBQcwhN4WmwEm5WYc0Lnzo75etlen7SWwd7SUDxj54Zgh3aTIQlPE4hP0qWlTOJHlxu/s1600/DSC_0857.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivrodVNwf1d3HKwrVxquhmZttCeIwNvaDhnEW6ScbYmbaGkOpusUyzW4l9AzPWRm9bMj3OXBOediBQcwhN4WmwEm5WYc0Lnzo75etlen7SWwd7SUDxj54Zgh3aTIQlPE4hP0qWlTOJHlxu/s400/DSC_0857.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498657329360011650" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">First of all, I just put all the pictures from my phone onto the computer, and my brain was flooded with the images of the past year as they quickly downloaded. "Only" a year, but already, they're memories. At least one of those memories will make it to my blog...</span></span></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The Brickyard!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We went to this race 2 days ago. It was the first race for the boys and for us. Yeah, John and I aren't what you would call </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">NASCAR</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> fans, but because of the boys' extreme interest in this sport, I guess we kind of are. I mean, I do have two favorite drivers...Jimmie Johnson and Juan Pablo Montoya. How did I pick them? Not sure about Jimmie (maybe just because he's good), but with Montoya, I just like the way his name sounded, </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">lol</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. Really, though, that's why I picked him. So imagine my excitement and the bragging rights I had the day before the race when we found out that they were starting in the first and second position...one of them was going to win, right? </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Hmmm</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">....</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Let's back up, way back, like 9, 10 years ago. I'm not sure exactly when, but sometime around this time, Kyle, master of the remote control even at a young age, was flipping through channels. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And he made one of his greatest discoveries, </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">NASCAR</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. Immediately, both of the boys were fascinated by these cars that were whizzing around the track. Really, before this time, I'm not sure if John or I could have named more than 2 drivers. Kyle quickly changed all that for us. So what would be the logical thing to do? Bring them to a race, of course...not. There is no way that they would have been able to handle the crowds, noise, duration, etc. So we started out slow and brought them to a practice.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitIVZ2HQrxZOxxrbP5OzOu251Ef1jMBDmSuHgBcT9Hv5QwaqAa0vaKMcIChwUx6-Za55NjW8wiY0Ovyk2oo9uSCbIbvOi4gZhCL2rZe5Ww1VdjhhVn-Q2YaSAf2__TISC-dQIlFZNwuDi-/s400/DSC_0907.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498651087175387810" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I think the year was 2001, Kyle would have been almost 10, Matt, almost 8...I think. Oh how I wished I </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">journaled</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> back then, because I don't remember a lot of details. My biggest memory is that Chelsey was in a non-talkative mood and sat away from us, </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">lol</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">...yeah, she would have been almost 12. I also remember that it was a fairly quick visit. </span></span></div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I don't think that we brought them the following year, and maybe not even the year after that. But the past few years, they have gone. After last year, I was kind of regretting that we didn't go to the actual race...they were ready!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So this year, it was a "must." We were all going to go (minus Evan), but I waited till the week before to ask my mom to watch Evan; she couldn't. We don't have babysitters for Evan. We thought of a few that could possibly watch him, but Chelsey, who isn't all that into racing, graciously offered to watch him. I felt really badly about this, but she insisted it was </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">ok</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. sigh</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We asked a boy in Kyle and Matt's class if he wanted to go with us. He's someone who Matt likes to joke around with, and I was fairly certain he was into </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">NASCAR</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. It was also his first trip to a race.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Summed up, it was GREAT! They had a really good time. Our seats were in the shade (YES!), we had backs to our seats (YES! although my back still screamed), and we had a good view...across from the pits but with a good view of one of the turns. This isn't to say that there weren't times when I wanted to take I nap, or that I wasn't very annoyed by the 3 smokers in front of us, but THEY loved it!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Oh, my drivers? For whatever reason, when they introduced Juan Pablo Montoya, we were surrounded by BOOS! What!? Did they not appreciate how cool his name sounds? Jimmie had a mixed review from the crowd. Matt was loving this part, because he's all about razzing.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And then when Montoya crashed, pretty much all by himself with only 14 or so laps to go, after having the lead for a huge portion of the race, they cheered. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> The nerve. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF3p8xLw6QCQzUzK50X94llaYkvCvx45bId4pw3ELDzH_MjSCrUf5du9dHb3bIqNnBvbW_KWpk8oXtDwPGKW9WJxfZlgbH841TKTxVo-Aotz7eMoPcR2lPjCCZvl-q4ljdKzjkkwbS5zHs/s1600/DSC_0820.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF3p8xLw6QCQzUzK50X94llaYkvCvx45bId4pw3ELDzH_MjSCrUf5du9dHb3bIqNnBvbW_KWpk8oXtDwPGKW9WJxfZlgbH841TKTxVo-Aotz7eMoPcR2lPjCCZvl-q4ljdKzjkkwbS5zHs/s400/DSC_0820.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498657326474853778" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNc5vVdLpwKwyJLYCE0JXezRMRMeL5rCpp1Td-Jnsk22mSdRbjXmt92YlWCZ5AED-_SNMc-vJJRzdsmKI5zBTbfOWSA6hyjXtc38yOBWoV39WeTySD0sYxQ0Jbt4cg9ytOkYT-HEKI359o/s1600/CIMG0666.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNc5vVdLpwKwyJLYCE0JXezRMRMeL5rCpp1Td-Jnsk22mSdRbjXmt92YlWCZ5AED-_SNMc-vJJRzdsmKI5zBTbfOWSA6hyjXtc38yOBWoV39WeTySD0sYxQ0Jbt4cg9ytOkYT-HEKI359o/s400/CIMG0666.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498657318224706882" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:Georgia, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1NnoNYYSUnOHOphWtdIdbLytmIAq1O9-ynVgmYTz6susnl0Iz__iTcKzqGamRLVuxSfZVZ1Hn1FcrkQKnh9fUGsdxZtb3weniw4t9C5PfkhD6pekdvPUscZZZ-nQHlZJglxyIdaY4rx8/s1600/DSC_0868.JPG"></a><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6icU-WYoAyFhvG8ZssOjjv_h7aUzZPyDz5CRA2w-54Yox9NAK1uKlPGbo8aAcQem9pSHvm_YiG3zSWhhdlSBrqUF2Ejf7FXaKuH-I2RkYh2jseU6qemWU2_t_YtD6RPcn8iNzgRMevRNQ/s1600/DSC_0890.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6icU-WYoAyFhvG8ZssOjjv_h7aUzZPyDz5CRA2w-54Yox9NAK1uKlPGbo8aAcQem9pSHvm_YiG3zSWhhdlSBrqUF2Ejf7FXaKuH-I2RkYh2jseU6qemWU2_t_YtD6RPcn8iNzgRMevRNQ/s400/DSC_0890.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498658625051453458" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxFCGY-ZaTIxHtrBCamScNt2EbIQK_bvxh1ub_udWxJKIB49Q5770O35_kEshE6mGbEg1I5QCcjYnar9WgWHldvn3YuCGdONYTsAOuitbfcsamMlO6PPuNdkOXBVCWxmWoAFow3ppQQUJJ/s400/DSC_0765.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498658615829150034" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:Georgia, serif;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1NnoNYYSUnOHOphWtdIdbLytmIAq1O9-ynVgmYTz6susnl0Iz__iTcKzqGamRLVuxSfZVZ1Hn1FcrkQKnh9fUGsdxZtb3weniw4t9C5PfkhD6pekdvPUscZZZ-nQHlZJglxyIdaY4rx8/s400/DSC_0868.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498658633395370258" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Now that it's over, Kyle's choice of conversation...The Poconos this weekend. We won't be making that day-long drive.</span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-4321397215863144812010-07-24T16:47:00.006-04:002010-08-09T22:04:49.359-04:00Flavors<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Today, we went with the all the kids to Flavors Coffee place. John and I often go there on Saturday, but without all the kids. We tried once this past winter bringing them...didn't go so well for Evan. The noise of the blender had set him off, and he wanted very little to do with the place. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But, time has passed, and he's improving with dealing with noises. For example, we don't have to take him outside when we vacuum anymore! I just tell him that I'm going to vacuum the floor, his eyes get really big, and then he heads to the computer room and shuts the door until I'm done. Much improvement. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So, we head into Flavors, not too many people in there, and we order our food. Chelsey and I got a blender drink even though I knew it could mean trouble. To play it safe, Evan and I went into the bathroom where it could barely be heard while the drinks were made. He didn't exactly like hanging out in the bathroom, but he was ok.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We went back to the table, and we were able to stay there enjoying our breakfast for quite a while, actually, longer than the amount of time John and I spend when it's just the two of us.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">AND, someone ordered a blender drink halfway through our visit. He got a little upset, but quickly composed himself when they finished making the drink. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Yay!</span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-14061990348789155822010-07-20T16:09:00.005-04:002010-08-09T22:05:15.003-04:00I'm Going to Try, Again<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I don't know why I let so much time go these days between getting on here...</span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Evan's potty training is going GREAT! Last summer, we were doing well, but I knew that sending him to school and to my mom's was going to be tricky...and it was. So potty training throughout the year was hit and miss; BIG miss at school.</span></span></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But this summer, it's been wonderful, and he will be going back to school without a diaper! </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">His vocab is still very limited, but luckily, it's not to difficult for him to say, "pee," which he says for both, very convenient. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Other vocab? "No Deal!" Yes, he's been watching game shows with his brother this summer, plus Matt has that game on his </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">DSi</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. Other than that, he still really isn't putting words together. His biggest vocabulary comes when we're identifying animals....still. Yep, loves his animals. I know more about wildlife from watching Animal Planet than I ever have in my life! </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The older boys are doing well. Tonight, they are going to an Indianapolis Indians baseball game with Matt's Best Buddies. I adore Matt's BB, she goes above and beyond...a true friend with a huge heart. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">That's it...I just really want to get back into this...I know I've said that before! </span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">lol</span></span> </span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-18223048113604637462010-04-25T10:34:00.011-04:002010-08-09T22:04:14.785-04:00Trip To California<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Q2KH6MNryjKQYfiQuDz792hLKmF_OkEvSNMfv_S9E0LH8bYXgxhcEBk7ymOuwgSfWRczcaKRn8ZLeocf1k__FR8WI0LGhpzxg9k7TKDWY2M4lfLIKU0qnYY9PKLmHF1EJIKCYLG572Dz/s1600/DSC_0459.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Q2KH6MNryjKQYfiQuDz792hLKmF_OkEvSNMfv_S9E0LH8bYXgxhcEBk7ymOuwgSfWRczcaKRn8ZLeocf1k__FR8WI0LGhpzxg9k7TKDWY2M4lfLIKU0qnYY9PKLmHF1EJIKCYLG572Dz/s400/DSC_0459.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464108628943116034" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Recently, my Mom, Chelsey, and I spent a long weekend in California for my niece's wedding. The wedding was in Berkeley, we stayed in Oakland, and we visited San Francisco. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The last time I was in CA (Monterey for 6 months), was a little over 20 years ago! I don't think I appreciated the beauty of it then. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We arrived in SF late Friday afternoon. The first adventure was finding the car rental place at the airport...I wasn't expecting it to be so far away! </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Next came the driving. The van was in my name, so I was the only driver. And what was one of the first things I had to do?? Cross a very long bridge! I've never been a fan of going over bridges, but I do much better when I'm the driver. And after going over a few very long bridges several times, I kind of like them now! I was actually sort of fascinated by them. Yeah, sounds kind of corny, but let's remember, I've lived in the middle of the corn fields for 18 years now!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">After a quick stop at the hotel, Chelsey and I went to </span></span></span><a href="http://loveandsurvivalwithfragilex.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Sarah, Zachary, and Quinn's </span></span></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> house...which was only minutes from our hotel! And to top that off, we were met there by </span></span></span><a href="http://hollyzzdavis.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Vicki, Joel, and Holly!</span></span></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Unfortunately, due to how long it took to make our way out of the airport, the visit was kind of late, so the kids were a bit tired...one more than the other. ;-) </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But wow, how awesome it was to meet them! I started this blog because my daughter had one...that was it. I had never thought I would get the opportunity to meet some incredible people who happen to have a flaw in a gene in common with our family.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Anyway, the visit was great, yummy pizza and wonderful people to visit with! It was a long day, with the Dramamine making it a little longer for me (even the less drowsy version knocks me out a bit). </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">On Saturday, we hung out with my brother (father of the bride), saw some sites, and just enjoyed being there. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">That evening was the wedding....so beautiful. The reception was unlike no other I've seen; I loved the change. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Sunday was more sight seeing, SF and Berkeley. The weather was a bit uncooperative (rainy and chilly), but it was still a good time.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Of course, how could we go to SF without seeing the Golden Gate Bridge!? </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIWdTekBy5seEVSAK6SNfSnn2LeoyqZi3QwcB16lEy5QL1Zs8zQCJGm5fEU2FV7KaggTwHPbXyKxVIF6dY5HKRFB-eqtM-e-99mObekX3-uGlOInNF0_gBipnW1KgyhcDtioBpNv1d8az/s1600/DSC_0096.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIWdTekBy5seEVSAK6SNfSnn2LeoyqZi3QwcB16lEy5QL1Zs8zQCJGm5fEU2FV7KaggTwHPbXyKxVIF6dY5HKRFB-eqtM-e-99mObekX3-uGlOInNF0_gBipnW1KgyhcDtioBpNv1d8az/s400/DSC_0096.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464085083218073474" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIjF0Jy1z9RNOJDa_mRjSSP5YCbpuLNsmvuQJmGZdyTWwWE_BE3Xip4isT3wuz0hZVE2bZXDjJLGLkdyqDfFIUZQhHFWfA7WoTD6UFHEWAho19wfdtIAsXtIcCVfyf3lyMiy1obkq2PRJz/s1600/DSC_0088.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIjF0Jy1z9RNOJDa_mRjSSP5YCbpuLNsmvuQJmGZdyTWwWE_BE3Xip4isT3wuz0hZVE2bZXDjJLGLkdyqDfFIUZQhHFWfA7WoTD6UFHEWAho19wfdtIAsXtIcCVfyf3lyMiy1obkq2PRJz/s400/DSC_0088.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464085065706208978" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6SHKCIHzCPI4QpSMVUPluOHY6UxsNvPOiHAvP0m2w2stUxgfguLOtaTtNabjlvZCKAVl-XYbywMW1ABuEauwrJi6arR0g2iMZPkNB6kVK3y28Q0O2oi1a4NCKx60uFDyYUDrGs4-A5Q6Z/s1600/DSC_0235.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6SHKCIHzCPI4QpSMVUPluOHY6UxsNvPOiHAvP0m2w2stUxgfguLOtaTtNabjlvZCKAVl-XYbywMW1ABuEauwrJi6arR0g2iMZPkNB6kVK3y28Q0O2oi1a4NCKx60uFDyYUDrGs4-A5Q6Z/s400/DSC_0235.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464106066209909682" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This bridge is so long! And there were cars above us; that's a bit freaky for one who has a little fear of bridges....</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HpeYe48cQKLt6xXPDfrOG7-Ge9_GA8mJhDwA1ZcMadcmsgX4RfiRWxjtzJpGQ1AdtX2um_7lrGV8BvJ7HvCl0L7y8ypyNRN6W2mqx80Fp4BOQaioBaCqo7wyb6UHmTBIyqEb2DrbQVhk/s1600/DSC_0624.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HpeYe48cQKLt6xXPDfrOG7-Ge9_GA8mJhDwA1ZcMadcmsgX4RfiRWxjtzJpGQ1AdtX2um_7lrGV8BvJ7HvCl0L7y8ypyNRN6W2mqx80Fp4BOQaioBaCqo7wyb6UHmTBIyqEb2DrbQVhk/s400/DSC_0624.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464085072458293938" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhibG-kj1NGTrsmsZbGs58DX1p_kFZwqVX3CQAxf0OUfivjaaEhXnXSf9cl_mPq4xkTsnePcrGWAAkOkvWn0lhpLdCvl7PrnJVk6TjoBH40QLN8ByDglqCnTwBCIpa9PHJzQmS2RiXIyREu/s400/DSC_0556.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464085088327696114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Yeah, we don't have hills like that in Indiana...didn't take much to entertain me.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family:Georgia, serif;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBL0WHpD50i_H4O7SPQNF6efRSvc-HXjETJSA4_KQMElnTH0lSwgRYtF-_kR9J9ff-P_-IRYBNEMkXY9eTWGxhYUopdnAEkLkAZE7LHVhKmIlB18Bv4zKNU3_ob2yPLuEN2sboP2MsPWiS/s1600/DSC_0508.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBL0WHpD50i_H4O7SPQNF6efRSvc-HXjETJSA4_KQMElnTH0lSwgRYtF-_kR9J9ff-P_-IRYBNEMkXY9eTWGxhYUopdnAEkLkAZE7LHVhKmIlB18Bv4zKNU3_ob2yPLuEN2sboP2MsPWiS/s400/DSC_0508.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464108010158779490" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My brother and Chelsey</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Great time, would love to go back!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><br /></span></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGPKx7-Ws62EdaciHIquQYgQkprHxGztkauzboJ0JT2gtMurzAbIcK8tOHctCx9k3x3jb6UUvrrsk3ZiOIThP_4OeEZbiJOVHjnqOgtmRm309LCeqPJ9KAHTenRW2BLj8dGmE71eXkPBLy/s1600/DSC_0459.JPG"></a></div></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-12861396901147581522010-04-17T18:09:00.009-04:002011-04-01T21:40:02.879-04:00Recent Stuff<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I really want to get my blog going again because I want to print this stuff out for a "journal"...here's another attempt at it!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> So I guess I'll start with Evan updates. Last weekend, I went to California with Chelsey and my Mom for a four day weekend (for a wedding--that can be another post!). Before I left, his version of his name was "E--en" or "E--e" (short "e" sound). </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">John and the boys picked us up from the airport, and on the ride home, I asked him what his name was--just because he loves to say it and he's so cute when he does. To my surprise, when he answered, he said "Evan".......VERY CLEARLY! Yay! </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Sleep: he's been doing much better with sleep the past couple of months. He's usually sleeping through, isn't taking as long to fall asleep...an hour maybe, sometimes less...and he's getting better at keeping the jammies and diaper on! He is also becoming more aware when his brothers go to bed (9), and will ask (in his way) to go too....much better than 10 or so.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> Interests: Still loving his alphabet toys and animal books. He can't get enough of his animal pictures! They have to be real pictures of animals, with a preference for safari type animals, whales, sharks, and dolphins. Some of them he can say fairly clearly: cheetah, whale, shark, "jraff" (giraffe), eagle, wolf, seal, deer, zebra, roar (lion ;-), and even elephant is sounding pretty good, while others are getting there. :-) </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms', serif;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And just as he's getting to the age where I really shouldn't be carrying him anymore, he can say "Care-cue" (carry you), melts my heart and often gets him in my arms.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> A couple of days before I left for California, Evan had a fall at school. Yeah, fell off a platform on the playground and ended up with a good old bump on his head with a bit of a cut. I brought him home and he immediately fell asleep on my lap. Didn't like that. So, I brought him to the hospital to have him checked out. I'm usually not one to rush to the doctor's office with my kids, but this one made me nervous. SO, after 3 HOURS in the ER (probably worse than the fall for him), I got the reassurance from the CT scan that everything was alright. The black and blue is starting to fade, and he has a small scab. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> On the topic of playgrounds, he's been loving the playground recently! He no longer sits on a platform to watch the kids run around him; he's all over the place! It's hard keeping up with him, ya know, to make sure he doesn't fall off the platform (he kind of loses awareness of where he is in space when he gets all excited), but it's worth it! I get a good workout, and he has a great time. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> As I type, John is outside putting up a swing set we just bought today. I was out there helping, drill and all, until Evan woke up from his nap. Evan and I are on our way out to check the progress. :-)</span></span></span></div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-46415737483766277972010-01-22T20:05:00.004-05:002010-08-09T22:06:19.763-04:00Trains<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Kyle has always been a fan of trains...especially Thomas the Tank Engine. He started off with the die-cast ones, then the wooden ones, and finally, the battery operated plastic ones. Over the past 18 YEARS, we've gained many trains (and tracks) and have gotten rid of, basically, none. That's a lot of trains! </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So when Evan came along, I thought for sure his love of trains would start from the very beginning. For his first birthday, I got him the Thomas Train and he could sit on and "drive" or push. It has the buttons that play the little jingles....how great. Well, he's played with it a little, but it was never a huge hit. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">At our old house, Kyle's room was upstairs, and Evan's was down. This prevented Evan from having very much exposure to the trains set up in Kyle's room. At our current house (a year and a half), both of their rooms are upstairs, and Evan also has mastered the stairs enough where he has freedom to go up and down as he pleases. This summer when Kyle was home, he had a constant track with the battery operated plastic trains set up in his room. Evan did NOT like them! He would scream, cry, etc. It was awful. This stage lasted for a month or so. THEN, he went through a stage of still crying, screaming, etc., but yet, he insisted on standing in Kyle's room to watch them! Of course, Kyle didn't care to have his little brother in there screaming while he was conducting the Island of </span></span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Sodor</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">. But, Kyle, having the big heart that he does, put up with it quite well. Gradually, he was able to spend time watching the trains for several minutes before the overload and the screaming/crying would start. This often happened before bedtime...not a good way to ease into a good sleep.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Now, after several months, I can proudly say, Evan is a true Thomas the Tank Engine fan. For Christmas, we got a track set for him (to Kyle's relief), and he is becoming quite the little conductor of trains. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I can hear the trains going now. :-) </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Peep peep!</span></span></span></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-53944528671471243772010-01-03T09:33:00.011-05:002010-08-09T22:07:14.721-04:00Losing Our Dads<div align="center"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Wow, Oct. 3rd...it's been a while. Before I can start writing about the everyday stuff that happens around here, I need to write this post.<br />John's Dad passed away on Nov. 11th, and my Dad passed away on Nov. 19. Sometimes it still doesn't seem real.<br />John's mom and dad were just here in July, and he seemed like a healthy, energetic 74 year old. Then, in September, he started a "cough." At first, they were treating him for bronchitis...that wasn't going away. It got progressively worse. A couple of weeks before he died, they said it was possibly pulmonary fibrosis. He started on a oxygen tank at home on Nov. 6th. On Sunday, Nov. 8th, he went to the hospital because he was having such a difficult time breathing. I think it was Tues. that he was told he had full-blown lung cancer. John had a flight scheduled to go to Florida on Thursday morning; unfortunately, his dad passed away Wed. afternoon.</span></span></span></div><div align="center"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> Cigarettes suck.<br />He was such a larger than life person. He's greatly missed by out family!</span></span></span></div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422536265512048450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHRDKHK7VECu5CmdIy6azVwtw3M6gPCFtNcHq6Op6AAjJ9BSkVL5WuzZ3PH37v5Otm4Q0_Xgk5SewATLpawFElvBSa57uh2pf_dGsOZgTM7_ZIFbYVilAgqz6eOS4cCEMxceMydygYsGlQ/s400/DSC_1057.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422536257472073698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh6ObTK6WaGmOe7yxxRZ5tMCa7LKU_QxIkY4DNsMXuLLOjxN0QYaWrG0xMmpcebg5OhoOZTbCOzq08YXHtDobgvD-2MuSIuk86DwC27yUyqzbIg2uznPxxlvlktkHCLXQBTYVE7rJZfIoT/s400/DSC_0949.JPG" border="0" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">My dad went to the hospital on Monday, Nov. 9th...the day after John's dad had entered the hospital. He was having great difficulty breathing...fluid in his lungs. He was 87, had bladder cancer, and had suffered a stroke two and a half years ago. At this point, he was very weak. He had the health conditions, and he hadn't been eating much. At the hospital, they gave him something to help relieve the fluid on his lungs, an antibiotic, and blood (his blood count was low...he was losing blood through his bladder). He came home on Friday with the hospital bed was set up in my parents living room; Hospice was helping out. He went downhill rapidly. I'm thankful that I was able to be with him during this time--I took off work---but it was also so difficult seeing the process of death. Tuesday morning till around noon was the last time his eyes were open, and he could attempt to say something. Wednesday morning, his eyebrows moved slightly when I tried talking to him. Thursday morning, his breathing was slowing down, and he passed away around 9:30.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422532686714508050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0oRPF8-v9FgET7TAziCxY30UT7DF9GPXjBF7MqyT91adNuJSIHJKwiPqE3UHoX-ebr3u5cKCbP7OfuIbyUskins3qRR7nwNUeunk6hxzG2UA2PQkX4jhny36-xZgUGwc9SUf5z2DZEGgo/s400/Dad+1.bmp" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422539897867976946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAUqf_R7xOG1fkqF5iKl3WzvezIvcm3OA1Y_GhQ0EKCjZbq5r740VM4d_yBSzgjBxaDP_cBIUXZ0vW1XFOKZUgHy9G4RLS7J53gjjQIC3SF6gHficrYrbZMH6NEvEDNpfihJ6-uhWqSo9/s400/Dad+2.bmp" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422539890403818786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwBgWe3VQrS-tpJcg3JrgzCrjmEOG2P_I9xlqc09_-7k83jrvCFM5W7P4K-Sn02wPkNbGdzfEy9N_UOMJCYoul6gqFhl7YmcxXHUlzqoBclAwd77wEv4nquEBJp53T_-NoCNnVOHZJOC0D/s400/dad+3.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="right"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I know he was 87--that's considered a long life--but it just didn't seem long enough for me.</span></span></span></p><p align="center"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I </span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">feel like there aren't many people who know our boys...really know them. It's not only hard losing as our Dads, but these men were also Grandpas who loved and accepted our boys for who they were.</span></span></span></p><p align="right"><br /></p>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-71824332382047436062009-10-03T21:18:00.006-04:002010-08-09T22:08:38.591-04:00Meet "Mo"<div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Look who joined our family today!</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388552985993431922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZYIlgo7eJkpFJiEXXgcw3ZAFPb9UiGPDbo6EANi2lF_zKomOAwa6aDgyukWOpBfQ01FqLpIcME75Y8SIcol6nEzXPMyxmFd-phqSVS4ZhvO0aqGbM2IQtc7yxSeAiknNWm8AA3ZqZkdy/s400/Mo+2.jpg" border="0" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We went to the Humane Society today...it really wasn't in our plans of the day, although we have talked about getting another dog. A picture of a Pomeranian that was in the paper a couple of days ago inspired us to go. That dog was no longer there, but there was another Pomeranian...along with this Terrier mix who came in together three days ago. The Pom. was pretty, but this other dog was, well, cute!</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">He's 2 years old, and his name was Buddy. After much discussion in the family, his name is now "Mo" or "Maurice." John wanted Gordon, Matt wanted Elvis, and Kyle suggested Henry. We were calling him Gordon for a couple of hours (although I didn't think it fit him). Mo was my choice, and John liked it...he just liked Gordon even more. But, after talking to Chelsey (who liked the name Mo much better), John agreed to it.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388553004735878066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTC0wFSunQLRQLfzUAs0UwrMNIghFdx8BXJfbTtKeQKyeHPyzsJ_oB_79_mOeqbIseU28NQxetoQyiO_nM8JmW2gwonYZeHArW0xrQL47UMDU4w4qAT70wTIa0PbaLpp0NPa9zLG56ZL8/s400/Mo.jpg" border="0" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">He's adjusted quite well so far. He's very fond of Evan, and I think Evan likes him, too! Tonight when I brought Evan to bed, he followed us up to his room; Evan was laughing. But then, the dog didn't want to go back down with me. When I made him come out of the room with me, Evan expressed his disapproval. </span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Side Note----Evan and bedtime: He's had great nights the past couple of weeks!</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Evan also was riding (with help) his tricycle this evening that he got for his birthday---5 months ago. All summer he wanted nothing to do with it; tonight, he couldn't get enough of it. As I pushed Evan around the house (while my back was screaming), Mo followed us the entire time!</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388554310959791474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwEFiLhoD11zsy2cxAvdWyxLlmVf1z_Ok67LTBpEhwCMlbkcTV9ZG6KUs81hQtS1J_nP7BEl5zJRs_IF4zQsUCEmThAjjOtQTChp3V-7tcQCNqqIT0BNKlEpQd0HoVXrQSND9DYZxxPCS/s400/Mo+%26+Gigi.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Gigi and Mo in the "getting to know you" stage.</span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">AND, the BEST part (so far), he seems completely house trained (although he will be in a cage at night and while we're gone), AND, he doesn't chew on things---two big pluses!</span></span><br /></p>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4646919877092626924.post-30303231607707236552009-09-28T19:06:00.006-04:002009-09-28T21:58:28.772-04:00iHeartFaces: "Blue"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchWJj70FootaFLmGvq-dXFmmFff82ZPtANdu4hTjDVwOlNSwrWMa2M3gDIO9NGqz4y-AOSGwYJB7R9NoPrRAQm0FB_nnQiM_guwqCzrDuydJ9dAt-l7cwn4TecuC3ne6M5L-km-fgz2VB/s1600-h/Evan+Dunes+Blue.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386702783970004930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 286px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchWJj70FootaFLmGvq-dXFmmFff82ZPtANdu4hTjDVwOlNSwrWMa2M3gDIO9NGqz4y-AOSGwYJB7R9NoPrRAQm0FB_nnQiM_guwqCzrDuydJ9dAt-l7cwn4TecuC3ne6M5L-km-fgz2VB/s400/Evan+Dunes+Blue.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;">I haven't put in a picture for <a href="http://iheartfaces.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#663333;">iHeartFaces</span></a> in quite a while! This week, the theme is "Blue." This is a picture from when we went to the Dunes. John was throwing sand Evan's way--they both thought it was rather humorous! </span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;">~~~Check out the other photos at <a href="http://iheartfaces.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#663333;">iHeartFaces</span></a><span style="color:#663333;">~~~</span></span><br /><br /></div><br /><center><a href="http://www.iheartfaces.com/"><img src="http://www.livinglocurto.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/125x125.jpg" /></a></center></div>Jenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05535881273481381348noreply@blogger.com3