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Give Thanks For Your Child With Special Needs
CLICK HERE to participate in a touching tribute to special needs children as Thanksgiving approaches. Even if you don’t have a special needs child, the site is worth visiting for a good read and a little perspective to kick off the holiday season!
Monday Minute: Veteran’s Day
On the way home from the park today…
Me (to Margaret): James is home from school to celebrate a holiday. What holiday is it, James?
J: Thanksgiving.
Me: What?
J: Um……. I mean, Veteran’s Day.
Me: Right, and what do we celebrate on Veteran’s Day?
J: Our veterans.
Me: Can you tell your brother and sister what a veteran is?
J: Someone who fought in a war for our country.
Me: Very good!
J: They are very brave. Like guys that did battle in the American Revolution. They battled for America against the bad guys.
Margaret: With a light saber?
James: No. With a rifle. And a sword.
Adam: Pew pew!
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5 minutes later
J: So………. what holiday is it?
Adam: Thanksgiving. Pew pew pew!
J: No, Veteran’s day. Veterans don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.
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We’re getting there…
Monday Minute: All Systems Go
James is in italics, I’m in bold.
(Coming up to help James in the shower)
Hey skinny, grab a washcloth and soap.
I’m chubby.
No way, you’re skinny.
Yeah because I eat a healthy, balanced diet.
Oh yeah? Whats in a balanced diet?
Carrots…. broccoli…apples…
Yep.
lasagna…
Hmmm…
ramen….
Nope.
Ramen’s junk!
Yeah, it’s not great.
Junk!
But its okay to eat a little junk every once in a while, like a special treat.
But too much junk will ruin your system.
What system?
You know, systems… like your system of being healthy, or your system of being clean. Or my stereo system in my room. So mom…
Yes?
Do we have any ramen? For a little junky treat?
I don’t think so. Come out when your soap is gone and get your pajamas on.
(Calling out after me from the shower) or a weather system!
Monday Minute: For Someone With ADD He Sure Can’t Be Distracted Sometimes…
Today James landed himself in some “hot water,” so to speak, after throwing a massive tantrum about showering. Again. When I say tantrum think just like a toddler. Except with a toddler I can pick them up and dump them into the bathtub (and do), whereas with James I just have to pray that tugging on his arm while threatening with strikes and losing privileges will still do the trick.
In general it was a bit of an off day for him – the bus came earlier this morning and then took a lot longer than usual on the way home, the homework was a little more challenging that it had been so far this year, and there may have also been some extra after-school hunger involved. So by the time I uttered the word “shower” I already knew where all of the muttering, groaning and talking back would climax.
Long story short, by the end of a very challenging afternoon James had lost his beloved ipod time, which is basically all he works for from the moment he walks in the door. I hated to take it away but hate dragging a 100 lb. preteen into the shower even more. Of course, once James is clean and refreshed he emerges from the shower in a beautiful mood, expecting that all is forgotten and that the last couple of hours can be erased with enough polite comments and smiles. I assured him equally politely that the ipod was definitely gone, but apparently that only convinced him he had to try another tactic:
James is in italics, I’m in bold.
(In the shower)
Wow, this is a big washcloth.
Yep.
Is it a special heavy duty kind?
Nope, just a regular one.
(Getting out of the shower)
Brrrr, it’s pretty cold.
Go put some PJs on.
Like a t-shirt and underwear?
And pants.
So if I put on sweatpants with my t-shirt I’ll be good?
You need pants on with your shirt.
And that’ll be good?
Yes.
(Calling downstairs, already in PJs)
So I’m good now?
Yes, thanks for getting dressed so quickly.
So, I can do whatever I want?
Like?
(softly) Ipod or Wii?
No.
Can I come down and just say sorry?
Sure.
I’m really sorry for my behavior.
Thanks – but you’re not getting your ipod back.
I’m really just really sorry….
Mom, I’m sorry….
May I have my ipod please?
No, James. Stop asking.
(smack self on forehead)
Stop being dramatic, please.
(smacks self on leg)
(starts to cry)
(10 minutes later, playing with A’s Magna Doodle)
So I’m really sorry.
That’s nice.
(30 minutes later)
Hey I’m going to bathe the babies, please answer the doorbell if it rings this time, okay?
(doesn’t look up from reading a costume magazine) Oh, will I earn something if I answer the door?
No, you’ll just be doing me a favor.
(Before dinner)
James, Adam threw his new car over the fence, I need you to go next door and meet me by the bushes so we can find it.
(James retrieves car)
Great job, James – thanks!
I wasn’t even scared – so did I earn –
No.
(during a fabulous meal of chicken noodle soup and grilled cheese, talking quietly to self)
Blaster tanks.
What?
That’s a fun game, right?
(being tucked into bed)
Hey James, if you’re a really good sleeper tonight…
I’ll earn something?
Yep.
(pumps fist in air) Yesssssss!
(calls from room) Moooommmmm?
(peek head in) What is it?
Will I earn a thing like ipod?
Yes. Now good night. Please.
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James was asleep in record time this evening.
Top Ten: Ways My Kids Are More Special Than Yours (the easiest list yet)
Even though only one of my kids has a true disability, in the most technical sense all of my children have “special needs.” And I don’t mean special in the “my-kids-are-so-much-more-special-than-yours” sense (despite the title). In fact, I’m counting on the fact that your kids are more special than mine in some ways, and that even you yourself have a special need or two.
Sometimes it’s just too darn easy to judge or lose patience with James for being weirrrr… I mean, particular about so many things (so, so many). But last night as I was talking to my mom about struggling with the particularities of another child of mine, it became startlingly clear that all of my kids were weirdos. Yep, big ol’ weirdos. And I have no idea where they get it from, because their father and I are just as normal and boring as two people could be.
So for a little fun, tonight’s Top Ten is another mystery edition. Below is a list of items that make my children special – can you figure out which preference belongs to who? Remember, James is 12, M is 3 and A will be 2 next week. You might be surprised when the answers are revealed.
And yes, I know it’s more than ten – this was seriously a little too easy in my opinion. Should I be worried?
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Top Ten: Ways My Kids Are More Special Than Yours
1. Can’t stand having sticky hands, the term “sticky” including hands having glitter, paint, or any kind of food on them, or my personal favorite, hands that are not quite dry after washing them.
2. Will not tolerate food touching or even being on the same plate, even if all of the food is well-liked.
3. Don’t stir the fruit into the yogurt unless you want to witness this child have a meltdown.
4. Needs a hug, kiss and high five before someone leaves, 2 out of the 3 won’t do.
5. Tags need to be cut off, especially visible ones. Not just on their clothing but on stuffed animals and other people’s clothing as well.
6. The light has to be on, but the right amount of dim in order to go to bed without a fuss.
7. Ramen noodles must be eaten with a fork.
7a. Ramen noodles must be eaten with a spoon. Come on, tell me you don’t have a preference. If you say you’ve never eaten Ramen I don’t believe you.
8. Fruit will only be eaten when cut up, but then will be eaten in vast quantities.
9. Willing puts face under the water of a freezing pool, but if water gets on face while having hair washed goes ballistic.
10. Screams frantically and runs from the noise of hand mixer or blender, unless able to press buttons themselves.
11. Cries over a cockroach but willing catches cicadas, grasshoppers and frogs barehanded.
11a. Delights in finding a cockroach but cries if a housefly is too close for comfort.
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Come on, fess up – what makes your kid so special?
Monday Minute: Waffles and Ketchup and Mustard, Oh My!
So last week I jumped around for a minute of related material spread over the course of the day. This week is the exact opposite – the entire conversation happened during a matter of minutes and was bizarrely and loosely connected at best.
Setting: Dinnertime. Children eating broccoli quiche, belgian waffles and hot dogs (we were out of sausage so I improvised). The unusual array of condiments at the table was probably partially to blame for what follows – syrup, chocolate sauce, ketchup, and mustard were all needed because of the presence of both waffles and hot dogs. So it should come as no surprise that James had his waffles lathered in mustard, M dipped hers in ketchup and A was using the chocolate sauce (for his waffles and hot dogs).
Key (there are too many people in this house): J = James, M= Margaret, A= Adam and I am in bold.
J: Can I have some more waffles?
You just had 4 pieces.
J: But I want one with ketchup.
James, that’s so gross.
M: No, it’s good, see? (holds up waffle dripping with ketchup)
J: And chocolate syrup.
No, you need to pick one dip at a time.
(Sighing, I get up and proceed to the kitchen to take another waffle off of the iron)
J: Margaret, stop it! Stoooooppppppp!
(calling from kitchen) Margaret, stop. James, stop yelling at your sister!
(walking back into the dining room I find M 2 inches from James with her lips pursed)
Margaret, leave James alone!
M: I’m just teaching James manners – look, look at his mouth!
It is also rude to point in someone’s face.
M: But his mouth is wide open.
(I feel bad about my table manners obsession momentarily, until James puts 6 inches of quiche crust into his mouth at once)
J (mumbling through the crumbs): No it’s not.
James, that was 5 or 6 bites, not 1.
M: Yeah, James.
J: Stop it!
Okay everyone stop talking to each other unless it’s pleasant. James, did you have a fun day with Scott and Kristin?
J: Yeah. So, I really love Kristin (his stepmother).
That’s great – did you have a fun day at the zoo with them today?
J: Yeah. Did you know Scott is married to her?
Yep.
J: Whoa. So how did he get married to her?
The same way I married Dad. Remember?
J: Oh – yeah.
M: Scott is a prince.
What?
M: And Kristin is a princess so they got married.
Okay.
M (to me): You can still be a ghost, if you want.
A: And I’m a witch!
M: And I’ll be Dorothy.
Finish dinner or we’ll run out of time for a movie night. Please.
M: You’re not a witch, you’re 1. And I’m 3.
A: No I’m 3 and you’re 1.
J: And I’m 12. Can I have some more waffles?
No, you can finish your other food but no more waffles.
M: May I be excused?
Yes, go ahead.
M: I’m going to the bathroom before our movie time. Don’t start it until I get back!
J: Can I have one more –
Not. Another. Waffle. Not one more bite.
(A immediately shoves his entire remaining waffle into his mouth at once)
J: Mom, look, Adam is not using good manners!
(Adam starts to gag)
Adam, you spit that out right now!
(Adam promptly throws up on the dining room floor)
M (from upstairs): Mommmmmm, I pooped!
J: Am I being good now, Mom? Am I using my good manners?
Happy Birthday James! A Photo and Video Celebration
James turned 12 today. Whoa.
He did a little baking.
But not too brave.
Sushi heals all things.
Presents don’t hurt either.
But he deserves it all.
Happy Birthday James!
Monday Minute: James and The Short Bus
For the first time in his entire life James took the bus to school by himself today – “by himself” meaning with a bus matron and driver instead of a mom or dad. In the past I’ve expressed some concern about James taking the bus and even last month was still having doubts. But after hauling 3 kids, a stroller and my giant, pregnant body up and down multiple flights of subway stairs or dragging said children and equipment onto standing-room-only buses for the mind-blowing 3-hour round trip (apparently hopstop didn’t account for school traffic) several times last week, I lost most of my previous nervousness and just felt a sense of (freakishly giddy) relief that the bus was coming, right to the front of our house this morning.
After school I couldn’t get James to answer anything without first being asked a dozen times – this new schedule is taking an enormous amount of focus on his part and by the time he gets home he’s a zombie. But over the course of the afternoon/evening, here’s what I was told about “the short bus.” It probably adds up to a minute if you string it all together.
James’s comments are in italics, my responses are in bold.
1) How was the ride home?
Good. The bus driver knew my road so he knew where I lived.
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2) The lady on the bus was speaking a foreign language.
A foreign language?
Yeah, I think it was Spanish.
To you?
To the bus driver.
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(While cooking dinner)
3) So mom, you should check and make sure the bus is coming again tomorrow.
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(During dinner)
4) So how are your new teachers?
Good. Before we get on the bus Mrs. O has to lead the entire class through the whole school. Then she lined us up and we had to wait for our name to be called to get on the bus.
That’s probably a good idea.
Yeah, to make sure we get the right seat on the bus.
Is anyone from your class on your bus?
Yeah, the whole class is on my bus.
The whole class? Do you sit with someone you know?
We all sit with someone because it’s a short bus and everyone has to fit.
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(clearing the table)
5) So after dinner you should probably go check what time my bus will be here tomorrow.
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(being tucked in)
6) Good night.
After you put us all to bed you should go on the computer and look up the schedule to see what time the bus is coming tomorrow.
Did you really like the bus today?
It was fine. So am I taking the subway or the bus to school tomorrow?
The Foorce 
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