Week 13 Theme - Big to Small

Their walk through the terminal was put on hold as they stopped to help their daughter. As she was yelling “Hey, Hey, Hey,” they gently put their arms around her to calm her down. Her strong, long legs kicked high in the air as she threw her upper body violently back against the back of the wheelchair. Next, her hand threw off the earphones that had been supplying music to her, which in the past helped to keep her calm. “It’s okay, Jordyn. Where’s Jordyn? Come back Jordyn. Do you want more music? “her mother asks in a soothing voice. Jordyn laughs loudly as she kicks and throws herself into the wheelchair several more times. Other travelers in the terminal slow down and look at Jordyn having this seizure.

In today’s society children like Jordyn are accepted, but the majority of people don’t understand how hard and demanding caring for a child with disabilities can be...unless, of course, they are living it. As a society, when a new child is welcomed into the world we don’t wonder what will be wrong, or go wrong, with the child. Most of the time new parents think of good things for their child, such as first steps, running around the yard, struggles of potty training, saying mommy and daddy, walking hand in hand with their toddler. What parent hasn’t bragged about little Suzy or Johnny saying “I Love You Mommy” for the first time, or hung their child’s artwork from the ‘fridge.

Traditionally, young couples who marry today hope for the “white picket fence, family home, good jobs, dog, and a cute little boy and girl” to make their lives complete. Do they ever stop to think how this American Dream can end up totally shuffled in the blink of an eye? They don’t hold all the cards. They may ask for it all, but in the end you play with what you’re dealt.

The pain of childbirth can be terrible, but it’s a good pain…because of the end results…and because the pain is soon forgotten. (Female perspective.) When that newborn child leaves the warmth of her mother’s womb and breaths that new air for the first time, and cries as she is wrapped up, that child is totally depending on her parents to love, nurture, hug, feed, and clothe her. Not just through the good times, but through the bad times too. That child didn’t ask for “problems”, nor did the parents. Every child deserves the best. Accept them for who they are. I believe parents are given what they can handle, and it takes extra special parents to take care of children with special needs.

Week 12 Theme --- taking risks, humor

The stories of Zak and Zeke

(Names have been changed)

As soon as she went in the door, she could sense that something wasn’t right. None of the personnel would look her in the eyes. She was there to pick up her four year old identical twin boys, Zak and Zeke. She spotted her sons as they were playing trucks and cars with other boys. Finally, one lady, still not looking at her, pointed her finger at a plastic bag that lay beside a desk. She told the mother that the bag was hers. The mother picked it up, and looked inside it. She was shocked to see a pair of her panties in the bag. The lady proceeded to tell her that “the children were on the letter ‘P’ in preschool, and they were to bring in an item beginning with that letter. They said that they had a pair of your panties in the bag. I didn’t let them show them around. You can take them home with you.” The mother quickly gathered her sons, and her panties, and headed out the door.

As Zak and Zeke got ready for school, their mother gathered the freshly laid eggs from the chicken house. As the eggs rested in the egg crate, the boys climbed in the back seat of the car. “Who wants the eggs today,” asked Zak.

“Your teacher,” mom replied.

Upon arrival of school the three of them took the eggs to Ms. Fern, who was alone in the classroom. When she spotted the eggs she asked where the eggs came from.

Zeke replied, with an replied matter-of-factly (with an implied “DUH, like, is she stupid,” ) “The rooster humped the chicken and now we have eggs.”

The mother was floored with the remark, but finally laughed along with the teacher.

There comes a point in the lives of twins when they don’t want to be identical anymore. This happened to Zak and Zeke while in first grade. They didn’t want to be the others’ twin, or dress alike, or be mistaken for each other. The mother said looking alike physically was something that couldn’t be helped. Later that evening the boys had to take showers. They were still at the point of showering together, and the mother overheard their conversation from inside the bathroom.

“We’re not the same down there,” Zeke said as he looked and pointed at his brothers weinie, then at his. “Yours is bigger than mine.”

Zak’s reply was, “I told you what to do. Ping it, and it will get bigger.”

Zak and Zeke were picked up from school by their father who does not live with them and their mother. They spent the evening with their dad, then mom picked them up on her way home from her college class. Bedtime came and they went to sleep. Mom was awakened at five a.m. by Zak tapping on her arm. He was panicking because he had left his school planner at his dad’s the night before. He had actually hid it from his brother at dads, then forgot to “find” it to take home with it. Mom pleaded that he could do without it for today, but Zak insisted that it was needed. So mom, still in her pajamas, put the twins, still in their pj’s, in the car and drove to dad’s house, twenty miles away. When they arrived at dad’s, he had already gone to work. Mom called dad to see if there was a spare key to get in to get the planner, but there wasn’t. “Can I jimmy the lock?” she asked. He gave her permission to do this. Well, as she was jimmying the lock, the neighbor was calling the cops, and a state trooper pulled into the driveway. She was told to stop, and asked what she was doing. She explained the whole situation to the trooper. Can we call the dad, he asked. A check of her watch told her that dad was already on the train (he drives for the local railroad company) and he can’t answer the phone while driving the train. So, she ended up calling his dispatcher and explained the whole situation to him. He agreed to call the boys’ dad. It ended up that the dad had to stop the train, which means a lot of paperwork for the unscheduled stop, and he told the trooper that he knew what was going on at his home with the mother of his twin boys and he was good with it. The mother got the door open, and with an escort from the state trooper, she retrieved Zak’s school planner. She and the boys got back in the car and drove the twenty miles to home, got out of their pajamas, and started their regular daily routine, if things can be routine with identical, twin six year olds.

Week 11 Theme - when words mean something else

I’ve learned to make brown sugar date-filled cookies using the family recipe my mother used, which was the recipe her mother used. I remember making these cookies with my mother as a young girl. The cookies are delicious, but they take a while to make. The date filling has to be cooked and cooled, the cookie dough made, then rolled out…not once, but twice, making sure the top layer is thinner than the bottom layer. I have resolved to making these cookies mostly on holidays, but if they are requested by someone, I will make them. That was the case with my former boss and friend. He was constantly asking for these cookies, so I not only made them for him, I also gave him the recipe so he could make his own, and share them with me.

Imagine my surprise last Christmas when I answered a knock at my door. There he stood, with a decorative Christmas tin in hand, and a smile on his face. His first words were “They’re not as good as yours, but I want you to try them. “

“Oh, I bet they’re good.” I replied, hoping to give him confidence in the nice gesture.

“Well, I couldn’t find your recipe so I used another one.”

Not going to be good, I thought. You need my recipe.

“I can give you my recipe again if you want it.”

“Not yet. Try these and let me know how they are.”

“Sure.”

I thanked him again as he left. I opened the tin to see date-filled cookies that looked like mine. They looked like they would be good, but a taste of one told me that the cookie was molasses flavored, not brown sugar. I slowly finished that cookie, but didn’t eat any more of them.

A few days later I saw my former boss at the store, and he asked me what I thought of his cookies. “They were good,” I said.

“Not as good as yours, though, were they?”

“Well you did a good job. You tried.”

After some idle chit-chat about life in general, we parted ways. Such an awkward conversation.