I am always amazed how 2 children who grow up in the same house can be so different. Here are just a few examples:
Monkey bear can talk nonstop, yet she won't even say "Hi" to her friends. My buddy has few words, yet he's the first to greet a stranger with an "Aaahhh" and a pat on the knee.
My buddy loves all things salty and monkey bear is a sweet loving girl. She favors fruit and he loves his veggies.
Monkey bear slept through the night at 12 weeks and hasn't stopped since. My buddy still wakes up more nights than he sleeps through.
My buddy can be covered head to toe in all sorts of dirt, grime, and food without noticing anything. If monkey bear gets so much as a drip of ice cream in her dress, she must change instantly.
When we are out and about, Monkey bear sticks to my buddy for the emotional safety while he is busy running off on his own not caring if anyone is close by.
Monkey bear will push a baby in a swing for 15 minutes and love every minute. My buddy loves a baby for about 27 seconds then hits him on the head.
My buddy wakes up with a smile and is off and running instantly. Monkey bear wakes up grumpy and is "too tired to walk down the stairs."
The list goes on and on. I wonder if there was another sibling if they would fall somewhere in the middle or if they'd find their own different. I love watching their personalities emerge and trying to guess what they will be like as teenagers and adults.
June 13, 2011
May 27, 2011
monkey toes
My buddy has this huge space between his big toe and all the rest. It's one of those random physical traits of Down syndrome. My buddy knows how to use his toes. He uses that space as leverage and turns the big toe into an opposable thumb. One of his favorite thing to do is to grab your fingers as you read him a book with that big toe.
My buddy uses his toes for stirring up a little extra trouble. He can cling onto drawer pulls - climbing up dressers in a flash. He can get a grip on the baby gate - luckily not climbing over quite yet. You should see the toys he can manipulate with those toes.
I guess that's why my buddy hates shoes and socks so much. It's hard to use primitive tools and swing from the vines when your monkey toes are covered up.
I've been thinking lately about what joy my buddy brings to me and how much he has changed me. I know I tend to complain a lot about the trouble he gets into and he does exhaust me on a daily basis, but he is so much more than that. Monkey bear made me a Mommy and I will be eternally grateful for that. My buddy made me a better person.
I have only stuck my (non-opposable) big toe into the lake of Down syndrome but already it has enriched me. If I can reach one soon-to-be Mommy who gets the prenatal diagnosis and doesn't want anything to do with that kind of a baby... I would tell her that it is more good than bad. By a long shot. When my buddy was born, a woman with a daughter with Ds told me that she celebrates and gets so excited when she hears that someone just had a child with Ds. I, of course, thought she was a little wacko. But now I see what she means.
My buddy has brightened my world. I can't wait to see all that he has to give me.
My buddy uses his toes for stirring up a little extra trouble. He can cling onto drawer pulls - climbing up dressers in a flash. He can get a grip on the baby gate - luckily not climbing over quite yet. You should see the toys he can manipulate with those toes.
I guess that's why my buddy hates shoes and socks so much. It's hard to use primitive tools and swing from the vines when your monkey toes are covered up.
I've been thinking lately about what joy my buddy brings to me and how much he has changed me. I know I tend to complain a lot about the trouble he gets into and he does exhaust me on a daily basis, but he is so much more than that. Monkey bear made me a Mommy and I will be eternally grateful for that. My buddy made me a better person.
I have only stuck my (non-opposable) big toe into the lake of Down syndrome but already it has enriched me. If I can reach one soon-to-be Mommy who gets the prenatal diagnosis and doesn't want anything to do with that kind of a baby... I would tell her that it is more good than bad. By a long shot. When my buddy was born, a woman with a daughter with Ds told me that she celebrates and gets so excited when she hears that someone just had a child with Ds. I, of course, thought she was a little wacko. But now I see what she means.
My buddy has brightened my world. I can't wait to see all that he has to give me.
May 16, 2011
delays
I've been thinking lately about my buddy being delayed. Most of the time I think about all he's accomplished and don't stress too much... except for when he flings his food in my face or hits a baby. I know that he's not typical and worry about his lack of words but I try and take it in stride not focusing on the hard parts.
Something got me thinking about being delayed and what that really means. My buddy's physical ability is so close to being on target, he understands so much and even though he can't talk he is amazing with sign language, and he has come so far. I think where the delays are really becoming obvious is in his behavior and level of maturity.
I can't stop myself from seeing how most 2 1/2 year olds act and doing that comparison dance. My buddy can't stop himself from dumping... well... everything. Plates of food, bins of toys, containers of blocks, a carefully built building. He will pull the pacifier out of the mouth of every baby we encounter. He climbs, wedges himself into small spots, and generally endangers his well being on a daily basis. My buddy refuses to walk next to me and hold my hand. I find myself carrying him or strapping him into a stroller all the time. When my buddy decides to run off he will not stop unless you physically stop him.
It becomes this crazy mix of abilities. My buddy can move like a 2 year old but with the impulse control of a 15 month old. He has this wicked sense of humor yet he still bites. He can put several signs together to have his needs met and at the same time has no clue that punching someone in the face hurts them.
Sometimes I worry that I am super overprotective and that I hover over him too much. I don't want my buddy to hurt others or himself and I know that he will if left to his own devices. I hate that I have to follow him all around and can't just let him play on his own. I dream about being one of those mom's at the playgroup or park that gets to sit and watch the kids play while chatting with the adults.
One good thing about delays is he still has a sweet baby way about him. My buddy loves snuggling in the rocking chair with me. Nothing can calm him down better than Mommy's arms. I plan on holding him in that rocking chair for as long as I can.
Something got me thinking about being delayed and what that really means. My buddy's physical ability is so close to being on target, he understands so much and even though he can't talk he is amazing with sign language, and he has come so far. I think where the delays are really becoming obvious is in his behavior and level of maturity.
I can't stop myself from seeing how most 2 1/2 year olds act and doing that comparison dance. My buddy can't stop himself from dumping... well... everything. Plates of food, bins of toys, containers of blocks, a carefully built building. He will pull the pacifier out of the mouth of every baby we encounter. He climbs, wedges himself into small spots, and generally endangers his well being on a daily basis. My buddy refuses to walk next to me and hold my hand. I find myself carrying him or strapping him into a stroller all the time. When my buddy decides to run off he will not stop unless you physically stop him.
It becomes this crazy mix of abilities. My buddy can move like a 2 year old but with the impulse control of a 15 month old. He has this wicked sense of humor yet he still bites. He can put several signs together to have his needs met and at the same time has no clue that punching someone in the face hurts them.
Sometimes I worry that I am super overprotective and that I hover over him too much. I don't want my buddy to hurt others or himself and I know that he will if left to his own devices. I hate that I have to follow him all around and can't just let him play on his own. I dream about being one of those mom's at the playgroup or park that gets to sit and watch the kids play while chatting with the adults.
One good thing about delays is he still has a sweet baby way about him. My buddy loves snuggling in the rocking chair with me. Nothing can calm him down better than Mommy's arms. I plan on holding him in that rocking chair for as long as I can.
May 2, 2011
cave man
My buddy has many qualities that closely mirror our relatives of the stone age. There is a lot of grunting and chest beating. His diapers have been known to smell like a woolly mammoth. Of course, he refuses to wear shoes. Although, perhaps if I strapped animal pelts to his feet he might keep them on.
My buddy can take down prey - the ever illusive sistersaurus - with a mighty hair pull followed by clubbing with a blunt object. Yes, he is a troglodyte in many ways.
His largest neanderthal similarity is in his table manners. I have begun to lose count as to the number of plates of food I have cleaned off the floor. I've tried every gizmo out there and none of them work for my buddy. When he decides he is done or perhaps he just wants the milk he flung to the floor earlier, there is no winning. I figure I have a few options.
I could go on like I am now but so far that's not working all that great for me. I can eat my dinner cold after he eats and totally focus my energy on him making it a learning process and testing my patience at the same time. I can just throw a few pieces on his tray and say to-the-heck with plates and forks and spoons... eat with your hands and be merry. I could convince my mom to move in next door and come over for every meal and she can do the hard work while I eat in peace and quiet. Oooooh... that one sounds good.
I suppose I can just accept that I am raising a cave man and the future Queen and start naming the ants.
My buddy can take down prey - the ever illusive sistersaurus - with a mighty hair pull followed by clubbing with a blunt object. Yes, he is a troglodyte in many ways.
His largest neanderthal similarity is in his table manners. I have begun to lose count as to the number of plates of food I have cleaned off the floor. I've tried every gizmo out there and none of them work for my buddy. When he decides he is done or perhaps he just wants the milk he flung to the floor earlier, there is no winning. I figure I have a few options.
I could go on like I am now but so far that's not working all that great for me. I can eat my dinner cold after he eats and totally focus my energy on him making it a learning process and testing my patience at the same time. I can just throw a few pieces on his tray and say to-the-heck with plates and forks and spoons... eat with your hands and be merry. I could convince my mom to move in next door and come over for every meal and she can do the hard work while I eat in peace and quiet. Oooooh... that one sounds good.
I suppose I can just accept that I am raising a cave man and the future Queen and start naming the ants.
April 27, 2011
the other milestones
There are many milestones that parents look forward to and anticipate. Then there are those other milestones. Monkey bear has reached the talking back, name calling, sassy phase.
I am very careful with the words I use around my kids. I don't have a potty mouth in general and after being a nanny for 9 years, I learned how to avoid "bad" words. Unfortunately, monkey bear has influences in her life other than me. (imagine that!) I have very high expectations of her and her behavior but I'm beginning to wonder how long I can keep her from calling people names.
I'm also wondering how long I can keep my sanity with the negative behavior. I don't want to punish her all day long, but I will not accept being spoken to that way or having her hurt my buddy. Oh, the teenage years are going to be rough!
I am very careful with the words I use around my kids. I don't have a potty mouth in general and after being a nanny for 9 years, I learned how to avoid "bad" words. Unfortunately, monkey bear has influences in her life other than me. (imagine that!) I have very high expectations of her and her behavior but I'm beginning to wonder how long I can keep her from calling people names.
I'm also wondering how long I can keep my sanity with the negative behavior. I don't want to punish her all day long, but I will not accept being spoken to that way or having her hurt my buddy. Oh, the teenage years are going to be rough!
April 21, 2011
preschool
So I've been concerned about my buddy going to preschool for a while. OK... more like obsessed. I think I started about 6 months ago. He still has 6 months to go before he starts school. I wasn't sure if I really wanted him to go at all. I know he is growing and maturing, but to me, he's still a baby. I feel like I have no choice for his preschool. For monkey bear we visited lots of schools, chose the one we liked and decided what time of day she would go and how many days a week.
Last week we went to an open house at my buddy's preschool. It is housed in an elementary school that was beautiful and clean. The woman who runs the program already had my buddy's paperwork and knew about him. The classes are small with lots of typical peers and the teachers know sign language. I felt relieved and for the first time, actually excited about this next step.
I think the hardest part will be sending him 5 days a week. Monkey bear will only be going 3 days a week and she's a year older. At the same time, it will be so nice not to be his therapist anymore. The pressure of Birth to 3 with four therapists all expecting me to work with him on a daily basis is a lot.
Next year will bring a lot of changes. There will be the hustle of getting two kids to two different schools and somehow getting everyone lunch and naps. And there will be me... letting go... just a little.
Last week we went to an open house at my buddy's preschool. It is housed in an elementary school that was beautiful and clean. The woman who runs the program already had my buddy's paperwork and knew about him. The classes are small with lots of typical peers and the teachers know sign language. I felt relieved and for the first time, actually excited about this next step.
I think the hardest part will be sending him 5 days a week. Monkey bear will only be going 3 days a week and she's a year older. At the same time, it will be so nice not to be his therapist anymore. The pressure of Birth to 3 with four therapists all expecting me to work with him on a daily basis is a lot.
Next year will bring a lot of changes. There will be the hustle of getting two kids to two different schools and somehow getting everyone lunch and naps. And there will be me... letting go... just a little.
April 5, 2011
sorry
Dear Little Boy at the Library:
I am so sorry you were there when my buddy and I came to the library today. You were so kind, coming right up to my buddy saying, "Hi" and introducing yourself. You even invited my buddy to play at the train table with you. My buddy, of course, ignored you and headed to the horses. When you tried to play with him, he pushed the barn away from you.
After a short while, you did get a nice greeting from my buddy - the face push and growl. It was done with a smile, so you took it in stride. You were so excited when my buddy came over to the train table to join you. Unfortunately, that excitement didn't last long as my buddy tried to swipe the one train you were playing with. Oh, and the look on your face when he threw that train... let's just be glad he didn't hit you with it.
I'm sure you were relieved when we left after a short while. I truly am sorry that my buddy got one last push in as I was trying to collect our things. I hope you can forgive us and we can meet again under better circumstances.
With Deepest Regret,
That Mom
I am so sorry you were there when my buddy and I came to the library today. You were so kind, coming right up to my buddy saying, "Hi" and introducing yourself. You even invited my buddy to play at the train table with you. My buddy, of course, ignored you and headed to the horses. When you tried to play with him, he pushed the barn away from you.
After a short while, you did get a nice greeting from my buddy - the face push and growl. It was done with a smile, so you took it in stride. You were so excited when my buddy came over to the train table to join you. Unfortunately, that excitement didn't last long as my buddy tried to swipe the one train you were playing with. Oh, and the look on your face when he threw that train... let's just be glad he didn't hit you with it.
I'm sure you were relieved when we left after a short while. I truly am sorry that my buddy got one last push in as I was trying to collect our things. I hope you can forgive us and we can meet again under better circumstances.
With Deepest Regret,
That Mom
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