Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Fog, Leaves, and Spider Webs



So, this morning Megan and I had an extra long wait for her bus to go to Program. We went out at 7, the appointed time, but many times the bus is a minute or two late, no biggie. While waiting, we were commenting on how foggy it was. 

Me: Megan, go stand over there so I can take a picture of the fog and you. 

Megan, with a mock sigh: Oh alwight.

It was so foggy, I’m thinking, And I’m sending my baby out into this abyss???






So Megan stood where I told her to, and looked at me, gritting her teeth together and smiling. Well, it was more like a grimace.







"Dis is not a snile. Ny face froze like dis," she said. 

That’s a line from the movie See Spot Run, when Michael Clarke Duncan was so frozen his face was set in a smile, and he spoke without moving his lips. 

As I sat back down on the porch swing, Megan looked at the lawn and started fussing. “Wook at what he did!” 






I ask what, and she points to a miniscule pile of leaves, slightly separated from the other three trillion leaves all over the lawn.

“Timmy! He messed it up.I wowked hawd on dat.” 





I told her I was sorry, trying not to laugh because the entire lawn is covered with leaves,  and she sat back down on the chair on the porch. Within minutes, her bus comes from the wrong direction and sails past us. We both watched with furrowed brows, wondering what’s going on. 

I said that maybe he was going around the block so he’d be coming from the usual direction, so the door is on our side and Megan wouldn’t have to cross the street to get on. 

Megan agreed and then pointed out a spider web in the corner of the porch. 




Me: Oh, cool, look at that!

Megan: Makes me want to wip it down.

Me: Megan, why? That spider worked hard on that web.

Megan: He did, he kweated it. 






Me: Then why do you want to rip it down?

Megan, with a horrified face: Because it’s kweepin’ me out. 

I gave up on trying not to laugh and just let loose with it. 

Then her bus came up the road from the usual direction and stopped in front of our house. As Megan climbed aboard, I heard a woman say hello to Megan and explain that the man driving was new and learning the route. 

And after buckling herself in, Megan and I did our wave: a hearty wave and then “I Love You” in sign language.








The spider spun a line of web going from the corner of the porch down to the bush. I’m pretty sure they use this as a zipline for fun when they’re bored with making webs. ;) 


Monday, September 14, 2015

A Tale of Burps and Farts



I know I write so much about Megan, but I want to emphasize that it doesn’t mean she’s my favorite or anything. They’re ALL my favorites! ;)

But the thing is, when Ryan and Timmy were younger, we spent a lot more time together because we were home schooling, and by then Megan and Caitlin were done with home schooling. So there was more to write about the boys.

Nowadays, Caitlin is 24, an EMT working twelve hour shifts along with volunteering with a rescue squad, and has a very busy social life. The little time we have together in any given week is usually spent chattering in the kitchen while I’m cooking and cleaning and she’s getting ready for work.

Ryan is fifteen….need I say more? ;) Really, though, Ryan is a much more low key kind of guy, quite the introvert like Caity.

And Timmy has a pretty active social life himself, as well as being in public school now  like Ryan is.

So it falls to Megan, who is home with me and spends the most time with me, to provide me with fodder to share with everyone. And does she ever live up to that awesome responsibility! She’s just so funny and fun, I can’t help but want to let y’all in on it. ;)

Last night, Caitlin stopped at Walmart to pick up a few things for us before she had to go in for her shift, so Megan and I were preparing Caity’s food for work. We were already making Tuna Pasta Salad for supper anyway so Megan got to work on the sandwich for her.

As I sliced some super sharp cheddar cheese for Caity’s snack, Megan wanted some but I said no. Then I spied a paper thin sliver on the knife I had used, so I offered it to Megan before resuming my Tuna Pasta Salad prep work. Megan kept trying to get me to throw it into her mouth but I wouldn’t, and made her take it with her hand.

So we started sticking our tongues out at each other, which morphed into curling our tongues and then trying to make them go sideways. Megan can actually do that, but I always give up and make my *head* go sideways, which in turn “technically” makes my tongue sideways. Go me! ;)

And of course all this had us both busting up laughing together.

Suddenly I burped an unexpected, very forceful burp. Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are that something so crass erupted from delicate, refined, little ol’ me.

“Dalerie Heaver Jeanne!” Megan scolded, mocking shame at my odorous outburst. Jeanne is my middle name, and Heather is hers, and I have no clue why she puts them together, but it’s funny when she does it in that indignant manner of hers.

Her next move was to try to fart a retort, which was unsuccessful. Thankfully, for my sake. ;)

So instead she made a huge loud “fart” on her bare arm, which she is *very* proficient at. Many a time she has regaled us with her arm farts and grown in this valuable skill.

Which of course sent me and Megan into a fit of giggles.

And of course I had to write about it, which you know I’ve done several times already, similar pieces.

But lest you think our home is always filled with childish humor such as burps and farts, believe me when I tell you that that specific type of jocularity comprises a mere 10% of our entire panoply of banter and joking.

I mean, seriously, could someone who practices too much infantine whimsy come up with such a capable, sophisticated sentence as the above?

I think not. ;)

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

He Wiww Come Home!



So, Phil has been in the hospital for a few days. He had a small stroke, but he’s doing very well right now. Various tests have been done to discover what caused the stroke; a CT scan, an MRI, an ultrasound of the carotid arteries. One of his carotid arteries has a blockage of plaque. 

A dye test was done yesterday to determine the extent of the blockage. If it was over 50%, the doctor would perform surgery, but if it were under fifty percent he’d treat it with medication. 

Megan and I have gone and visited with Phil each day. It’s so hard with him being gone, and especially hard to know this is a serious medical issue; a stroke is nothing to take lightly. We’re so very glad he is doing so well and that it wasn’t a major stroke. He’s still dealing with a little difficulty speaking, and his fine motor control in his right hand is not very good right now, but he’s alive and with us, thank the Lord.

Megan, of course has been impacted by this. She’s had too many losses the past few years…the death of her favorite uncle, my brother Steven, and her paternal grandmother. A few years before it was her Great Grammie, her Uncle David, and her cousin David. 

For someone like Megan, who has Down syndrome and developmentally and emotionally  is a much younger age than her twenty-seven years, losses like this affect her greatly. Meaning she eats, sleeps, and breathes them each day until long after the initial event is over. 

So today as she was eating her oatmeal before going to Program and I was washing dishes, she started talking about Phil again.

Megan: Is Phiw coming home today?

Me: I don’t know.

Megan: If he stands up is he coming home today?

Me: I still don’t know. <chuckling>

Megan, decisively: If he have da suwgery, and he be good, he can come home today.

Me: Maybe, if he needs the surgery. But if he has surgery, he won’t come home today, I don’t think.

Megan, with conviction: He wiww (will), He’ww be good and stand up. He desewves it. 

Me: Oh….<trying not to laugh>

Megan: Yep. Day have nuwses and food dare. 

And finally, with much determination: He wiww. He’ww come home today! 

I hope you're right, my dear Megan. 


Tuesday, September 1, 2015

An Alarming Text



Dear Straight Talk,

Was it truly necessary to text me at 3:16 in the morning, aka the middle of the night, to alert me that you've updated your phone unlocking policy?

Did you somehow have an irrational fear that I might be trying to unlock my phone in my sleep and had an insatiable need to know the new policy regarding said phone?

Because if you did, let me assure you that at 3:16 a.m. I was, for once, actually deeply immersed in the slumber that so eludes me most nights, and had been for a mere hour and a half.

Thanks to you, I laid awake after being startlingly jarred awake and finally gave up at 4, knowing that by the time I could manage to get back to sleep, it’d be time to get my sons up for school.

It does indeed take me at least 2 hours to get to sleep, and that’s even with the help of  the lovely and beneficial Benedryl. Some people can fall asleep within mere minutes, but alas, that is not me and never has been me.

I need Mr. Sandman to sprinkle his special Sleepytime Fairy Dust on me extra early, extra hard, and extra long.

Then comes the hurdle of staying asleep. And this happens night after night, year after year, forever and ever amen so help me God.

Had I known you’d be struck with the inspiration to send out your electronic missive that was of such a paramount topic, I’d have turned the volume down on my phone.

But that would have chanced me not hearing the alarm on it that had been set for almost three hours later, to get my children up and at ‘em. And my children are just “slightly” ahead of you in order of importance in my life.

So, in closing, dear Straight Talk, I’d like to make a few suggestions to the task force who developed the new phone unlocking policy.

If you would just provide me with the name, phone number, and time zone of the supervisor in charge of said task force, I’m sure you’ll greatly appreciate my input. ;)

Love,
Me