"Thanks" giving: Day 1-Time

There's nothing like the first day of the month to make you realize how quickly the last month just went by. When the month is November, like TODAY, you also realize how quickly the next month, or two, are going to go by.
AND THEN YOU PANIC!
But stop. These are two of the most special, most memorable, most fun months of the year. Think of all the awesome things you get to do in the next 60 days. I am looking forward to:

• cheering for football teams
• seeing family
• seeing friends from college
• baking pies
• having a Thanksgiving feast for 5 year-olds
• eating potatoes any way you can serve them
• waking up REALLY early to shop
• celebrating an upcoming wedding
• cheering for basketball teams
• "sing"ing in a school variety show
• baking Christmas cookies
• taking Meredith to see Santa
• eating latkes and jelly donuts--and anything else fried you can think of!
• making gingerbread cookies
• seeing more family
• skiing
• and much more!

There's no doubt the next two months will be crazy! But, just listing all of the above things made me smile.
When things get busy, and I know they will, I hope I can take a step back and reflect on how special and memorable this season really is. Time may seem short, but it's really just being filled to the brim with fun.
So, tonight, I am thankful for time. I am thankful for the quiet moments, like this, that I get to myself, and I am thankful for the busy moments, bursting with energy, creating memories that I can enjoy now and for years to come.

Being a grown-up STINKS

There are moments when it's hard for me to think of myself as a adult. Even with car payments, doctors' visits, a mortgage, and work, the feeling doesn't always sink in. But, two events within the last 72 hours have smacked my husband and I upside the head...well, nose really...in such a way that we've had no choice but to embrace adulthood. And, I've gotta tell you, this time it stinks.
It all began on Friday evening, at my in-laws' house in Pennsylvania. We had just gotten into town and were settling in for the evening...by about 11:30, Bubby and Zeyda (Meredith's grandparents) had gotten a sufficient number of hugs to allow her to go to bed for the evening, and Greg and I were exhausted. I took Mer upstairs to get jammies on and begin the bedtime routine while Greg let Ruffy out into the backyard one more time before bed. This is crucial. Ruffy, being a townhome dweller, is not used to the freedom that comes with backyards, and my in-laws' backyard offers the additional perk of housing bunnies in the bushes and under the storage sheds. Though Ruffy is a well-trained sleep-through-the-night-and-even-sleep-late-on-weekends dog, if he is not allowed enough "outside time" in Pennsylvania, he will wake us up multiple times during the middle of the night, begging to be let outside to chase the bunnies.
Friday evening, however, Ruffy did not find bunnies in the bushes.
He found a skunk.
And the skunk found him.
This is how, at midnight Friday night, as some people were anticipating the end of the world, Greg and I stood on his parents' porch, scrubbing the skunk smell off our dog.

Skip ahead to this evening...Monday. Exhausted from traveling this weekend. Observation this morning. Faculty meeting this afternoon. Stressing as I duck out early to go to swim lessons with Meredith. I'm walking in the doors of UREC, ready to race into the locker room, change into my suit, and meet Greg and Mer for lessons in the pool when my phone starts ringing.
It's Greg.
"Turn your butt around," he says. "We have had major CDF. No swimming tonight."
As it turns out, swimmy diapers and no poops from Meredith this weekend have combined with a game-changing result...catastrophic diaper failure. As Meredith babbles into the mirror and plays with her toys in her carseat, she is slowly ensuring that poop has touched the surface of everything within her reach.
The process that ensures when we get home is eerily similar to which occured Friday night, except that we allow Meredith the modesty of getting hosed down in the tub instead of on the porch.

The thing, besides the smell, that sticks with me after these events is the calm, matter-of-fact, yet immediate way we deal with these situations. I must say, I believe we deserve a pat on the back. There is no panic, no arguing, not even any attempt to delay the inevitable in the vain hope that some magical little fairies will come take care of the really messy parts for us.
Baths must happen.
Laundry must be done.
Situations must be handled no matter how tired you are. And smiles and a little good-natured teasing help smooth things along.
Sure, there are bigger, more serious, more critical moments in which people come of age. But there are also these moments, littler things that happen in the daily business of life, which reinforce the message.
This is what being a grown-up is...growing stronger and growing together.

Here's to an early spring...

It's Groundhog Day--a major event in my kindergarten world!
In case you missed the news, the snowstorm bearing down on Pennsylvania thoroughly obscured the sun during the ceremony and Paunxataney Phil did not see his shadow. Spring is just around the corner!
And, here at home, as if Mother Nature herself heard the news, the sun started shining this afternoon and it warmed up to a balmy 46 degrees or more this afternoon. This is such a welcome treat at this point in the winter season that, upon arriving home from work, I put on my tennis shoes, bundled up the Mer Bear, grabbed the dog's leash, and went on a walk!
Now, I can readily admit that I am not much of an exercise junkie. I got my fill of cardiovascular training while rowing crew in college and am now fairly content to grumble about my weight while munching on a Hershey kiss. However, in an effort to lose my baby weight last summer, I got hooked on walking.
My routine was simple: load up the van with baby, dog, and stroller in the morning in time to take Greg to work. Then I'd park the van in the bookstore parking lot, unload the crew, pop in my headphones, and hike all over a beautifully deserted college campus.  An hour later, Mer's nap was over but Ruffy and I were both refreshed, relaxed, and feeling good about ourselves.
Sadly, the school year has not allowed for this indulgence...and it shows on me, both physically and emotionally. However, the patch of sunshine I followed around the neighborhood today gave me hope that spring is not far away...and that gives me the optimism to handle so much more!

Oh, she's sticking out her tongue!

One of the comments we get most often about Meredith, other than "Look at all that hair!", is "oh, she's sticking out her tongue!" This is primarily related to her hypotonia, or low-muscle tone, since it takes work to hold your tongue inside your mouth. It is probably one of the characteristics that is most telling of Meredith's Down syndrome, but, if you don't know a lot about Down syndrome, as I didn't until April, you might just think she's hungry or being cute. However, at our tasting at our local wine shop today, it was Mer's tongue sticking out that led to a wonderfully supportive conversation.
When you begin reading stories about people who have children with Down syndrome, you start hearing about little whispered words of support that they get, from time to time, from other people in the community who are close to someone with Down syndrome. Since social coutesy demands that you don't mention a woman's bump until you know for a fact she's expecting, I have long wondered about these conversations, about the even more sensitive subject of a child's disability, start. It turns out, they start simply and sweetly like this...
Meredith was hanging out in her Baby Bjorn, flirting with our wine shop's owner and some of the other customers while Greg and I sipped a sangiovese. The woman next to me started talking to Mer and about the cute little tongue sticking out of her mouth. I had already mentally composed my response when she added, "My niece did that with her tongue for the longest time too. My sister used to always tap her on the tip of her tongue to get it to go back in."
I adjusted my response. Clearly, here was someone who was familiar with speech therapy and such in young children. Maybe I could explain about the hypotonia...maybe I could ask if her niece was still doing the tongue thing...I decided to go out on a limb...
"Meredith has Down syndrome," I started.
I had barely finished my sentence when she started hers..."So does my niece."
She had known. And she had reached out.
Gracefully.
Without offense.
And over a glass of wine!

It Takes A Village...to Raise a Parent

'Tis the season for giving thanks, and, as I watch my friends posting 30 days of thanks on facebook, I reflect on those in my life I am grateful for, especially, this year, my ever-growing support system.
I am grateful for my babysitter, who lovingly cares for Meredith, practices her exercises with her, and offers just a smidge of helpful motherly insight from time to time. (Did you know that diaper rash is more likely to occur when your child is on an antibiotic?)
I am grateful for my boss, and my husband's boss, both of whom have been more than generous and flexible in allowing us, even encouraging us, to manipulate our schedules and take time to attend appointments with Meredith.
I am grateful for the medical practitioners we interact with regularly...doctors and nurses who dote on our daughter and therapists who guide us in supporting and challenging Mer to reach her greatest potential.
I am grateful for my in-laws who have always welcomed me in to their family but whose embrace has been even tighter this year.
I am grateful for my parents who work hard to stay close, despite the miles between us, and who make family get-togethers a blast.
I am grateful for my brother, who has always been fun to be around, but even more so as he gets older and more, dare I say it, mature. Mer is lucky to have him as one of her uncles!
I am grateful for my sister, who is one of my best friends, and who, along with her girlfriend, overwhelm me with their unconditional love of Meredith.
I am grateful for my daughter who teaches me to slow down, relax, and enjoy the little things.
And, I am grateful for my husband, whose patience calms me down and helps me focus on what's important. He supports me in projects I undertake, understands when I need a break, and laughs at me when 2 years later it's still only half finished. :-) I am more and more lucky to have him every day.

Trick-or-Treat

Amoxicillin is a trick. Blue eyes and beautiful fall days are such a treat!
So, last Friday (a week ago) we took Mer for her 6-month well-baby check at our wonderful doctor's office. She weighed in, in the fly-weight division, at 11 lbs 14 oz, which puts her in about the 35th percentile for weight on the Down syndrome growth chart for girls. This is a little bit lower than her last visit, but our doctor is FABULOUS about reminding us that the curves on growth charts are made of averages of LOTS of babies and that each individual's chart usually looks more like a series of stairsteps, with sudden spikes and then more flat lines. This is, he says, probably a flatline time for her with a growth spurt right around the corner. What he was more concerned about, however, was the yellow gunk that has been coming out of her nose for the past two weeks. He quickly put her on a prescription for amoxicillin.
Now, those of you who have children know that giving a baby medicine is not necessarily the easiest thing in the world. (Those of you who have pets can imagine...it's really very similar!) We were just figuring out a system, on Friday, when Greg discovered a slight rash on Mer's torso. By Saturday, we were on the phone with the doctor as the rash had spread to her face and legs. Turns out, it took a week to show up, but Meredith has her first medical allergy, and we will be reminded of it for the next 3-6 days until it fades away.
The treat for the weekend, however, is that the allergy did not really explode until yesterday evening, so we were able to enjoy 2 beautiful days this weekend out "trick-or-treating" with Meredith. Friday evening we met up with some of Greg's colleagues to explore the Halloween festivities that JMU's Greek population has to offer...mostly bucketfuls of candy for every child in site! But there was warm apple cider for the grown-ups...and lots of 20-somethings ooh-ing and ahh-ing over all the kids in costumes while silently either wishing for cuties of their own or getting a real-life reminder to pick up some birth-control before going out to party that evening. Saturday morning we met up with a friend and her six-month old son to take in the sights in downtown Harrisonburg. Koala Meredith and her bumble-bee friend had a great time hugging each other in their soft and furry costumes and playing with the crunchy leaves around Court Square.

Bonus treat: we also visited the pediatric opthamologist about a week ago. Mer's eyes are in pretty good shape. She has a slight misalignment, but nothing that is likely to affect her vision at this time. Regarding the color, however, he said that a higher than average number of children with Down syndrome have blue eyes. Basing our previous predictions on her eye-color off of the Punnett squares you may have practiced in high-school biology, which said, in short, that brown eyes are dominant, we figured her eyes would be changing over soon. However, it turns out that that extra chromosome does some funny things, including things that affect eye color. Our opthamologist seems to think it quite likely that her baby blues are here to stay! :-)

Pockets and Pocketbooks

It's amazing how much your pockets, and your purse, can reveal about your life. For example, at 4:30 today, at the height of their usefulness, my jean pockets contained: my cell phone and jump drive, a jumbo paperclip, a confiscated paperclip, doctor's orders to get Mer's blood drawn, a post-it with directions and phone number for the hospital where we had to get the blood work done, a baby size hair elastic and hair bow, and a confiscated silly band from school. Not bad, huh?
I've been using my pockets for storage more lately as I'm finding myself torn between bags. Pre-baby I carried a purse and over-the-shoulder work bag every day and that worked well. Work and my personal life were separate, yet I didn't have to sacrifice any of the essentials. Now, with a diaper bag in the picture, the purse has been relegated to a back shelf for special occasions. Even so, it seems like carrying a diaper bag, work bag, and pump into school every day would be overkill, so I'm trying to just switch the essentials (phone and wallet) from diaper bag to work bag as necessary...and often they just wind up in my pockets instead.
I feel like the bag I carry says a lot about the role I'm playing in my life. For example, this weekend, I had the opportunity to be footloose and fancy free with a small black and white clutch a girl-friend gave me as a bridesmaid gift. I felt sophisticated, trendy, and feminine carrying it...a nice break!
With conferences and assessments demanding a lot of time from work over the past two weeks, my work bag has been a constant commuting companion...and my mind has been as weighed down with it as my shoulder has been.
My new favorite bag to carry, however, is my diaper bag. It is one thing, that in preparing for my baby, I picked out and bought with very little input from others. It is my first Vera Bradley and it is organized with lots of baby paraphernalia that leaves me feeling in control and actively involved in being a mother. I loved carrying it everywhere I went this summer...around campus on my morning walk, to the grocery store on the weekend, and to Target every chance I got. I got a feeling of super-mom power when I was able to get the bag, Mer's car-seat, and our dog Ruffy into the car in a single trip when it was time to go pick Greg up in the evenings.
Since I went back to work, there are many changes in our life, and many times when I feel like I'm not as much of a mother as I'd like. Now that most of our weekday trips are limited to to and from work, my diaper bag doesn't always even make it into the car...and, silly as it seems, sometimes I get a little sad thinking about all that simple decision seems to say.