TGIF!

This little video says it all....

Tablecloth Manners

I've spent many years teaching my children table manners, and for the most part, they get it. We've had to make some adjustments for specific disabilities, but I can say that most of the time they chew with their mouths closed, they know the difference between a fork and a knife, and they've learned what a napkin is for.

I know that for some table manners may not seem like a big thing when you've got a child with significant disbilities. But it is something that is important to me, and I believe will be important to my children in the future.

This weekend, it was time to start stepping things up. I decided that since they had done a good job with the basics, we would start working on "tablecloth manners." So I bought a washable tablecloth and off we went.

In my mind, we would start to concentrate on how to get into one's chair without pulling the tablecloth off the table, how to use real glass glasses, how to pass food from left to right, how to tell the difference between a salad fork and a dinner fork, and what to do with one's napkin at the end of the meal. From there, we would work on more formal table settings and more polished manners.

Sounds good, right?

Well hopefully we will get there one day, but for starters, I washed my new tablecloth three times in two days! It's a good thing I don't make them dress up for dinner :)

Special Exposure Wednesday

PUPPY PLAYTIME!!

The Call - Continued

All the tests which have been done on Corey's birthmother indicate that all brain activity has stopped. There is no hope left. It is just a matter of timing at this point - when to remove life support.

Corey is not doing well. I'm hoping he can go to Baltimore tomorrow. He needs to say goodbye and to tell her he loves her one last time.

Their life together was tumultuous at best, but very horrible at its worst. Still she is the woman who gave birth to him, the woman that, despite the demons that plagued her, loved him. She couldn't parent him, but she couldn't ever forget him either.

They will be forever bound, and I want him to know that. He is the fine person he is today due in part to the life they shared. Please include Corey in your prayers tonight.

The Call

My son, Corey, got the call that probably wasn't a surprise, but it was still painful.

His birthmother, a woman that for most of her adult years has been a drug addict and an alcoholic, overdosed on Sunday. She is unresponsive and the doctors say there is significant brain damage. That's all we know right now.

Corey's Aunt headed to Baltimore, and depending on what his Aunt and the doctors suggest, Corey may also be headed there soon.

Although I know in my heart that Corey feels a stong bond with us, his adoptive family, the pain of possibly losing a birth parent is devastating. I want to make it better for him, want to take away the hurt, but I can't.

But Corey is strong and has grown into a fine man. He will make it through whatever happens. I have no doubts about that. But that small child that lives inside us all will always have a tough time when it comes to something this serious.

Please keep Corey and his birthmother in your prayers...

Friday Surfing and Tubing

During my weekly web surfing and YouTubing, I found the following three things of interest...

Ashley would LOVE one of these rooms!



This next video bills itself as the most inspirational video you will ever see. And that is so true!



And finally check out this link to a new reality show featuring women in wheelchairs...Cool!

TGIF, everyone!

Wanting a Bigger World

Life can be pretty isolating when one has a disability. And by extension, mine has become that way because I have children with disabilities. While many disabling conditions have their own 'groups', the Autism Society for example, I have yet to find a group made up of children with Spina Bifida who are also profoundly Deaf, or children who are deafblind, have seizure disorder, ADHD, and feeding problems. And if one doesn't fit in a "group", other than the group called disability, options for socialization are even further reduced.

In some ways it's not bad to be isolated. My children and I don't have to endure the stares, the looks of disgust, the stepping aside as if what my children have is catching, the 'awwws' of pity, or the ignorant comments and questions (I don't mind non-ignorant comments or questions). There's a warm comfort to be found within the walls of our home where we are all just people, family members, valuable human beings. But every so often, the isolation is stifling and I long for a bigger world than that to be found in our personal 2400 square feet.

Last night was one of those times. I wouldn't say I was depressed, but I was a little bit sad. I miss the impulsive moments of jumping in the car to head to the beach boardwalk or the night out to try out a unique new restaurant. Nothing can be impulsive and spur of the moment anymore. We have to know if a place is wheelchair accessible, if there is kid friendly food available, or if there are medical facilities close by. We even have to decide if we think the other patrons at our outing will be accepting of our differences.

Please don't infer that anything I have said means I regret my decisions to build my family with children who have significant disabilities. Because there is absolutely no regret, and in fact, I want more children with disabilities. I just wish the world was more accommodating, and that we could all be a part of the whole and not just savor our slice of the pie.

To quell my sadness last night, and to feel once again the magnitude of the world, I stepped out onto our deck. It was dark and the stars were out. The only sounds were the sounds of neighbors going about their evening routines, the birds settling in for the night, and the barks of family pets wanting their dinner. I closed my eyes and imagined I was standing on the shore, hearing the waves crash and feeling the salty wind touch my cheek. I took a little 'trip' to the beach and it was wonderful. My sadness lifted for the moment...