May 29, 2012

"What can you do for me?"

At some point in the past, I read in one of the magazines that arrive at my house (Reader's Digest? Better Homes and Gardens? American Rifleman?) this bit of sage advice: To get a better deal on something, ask the salesperson, "What can you do for me?"

I'm not really a negotiator or the type that goes looking for the best possible deal on every single thing, but I've kept that bit of wisdom tucked in the corner of my mind, waiting for an opportune moment, should it ever arrive.

Today, that moment arrived.

In the interest of saving money, I've been tossing around the idea of canceling our DIRECTV service and just watching the few programs we do watch on the Internet. But what has stopped me from doing so is this: The NFL Sunday Ticket that is only available from DIRECTV. (Priorties, people.)

I'm not sure how Seth would handle autumnal Sunday afternoons without being able to watch a Steelers game. Or a Lions game. Or a Bengals game. (Oh wait, no one watches Bengals games -- do they?)

So I haven't yet pulled the plug on our service.


We've been getting fliers in the mail regaling us with deals for new DIRECTV customers. They've made me a bit jealous because we've been customers since 2005, and therefore don't have access to those deals. So, today, I pulled out that bit of sagacity mentioned above and gave the folks at DIRECTV a call.

I explained who I was, mentioned that we'd been loyal customers for quite some time and that I had been receiving fliers advertising better deals than what we currently had, and asked, "So, what can you do for me?"

And the guy I spoke with was more than happy to help. He asked me what my budgeting goal was and then proceeded to take $20 off our monthly bill so that I could meet that goal (maybe I should have gone even lower . . .). And then, he gave me the NFL Sunday Ticket for FREE if we agreed to a 12-month service contract, which of course I was happy to do. Free football in the fall--what more could a gal ask for?

Wow. Now I'm asking myself which other services I can call -- the mortgage company (HA!)? the electric company? the trash company? Maybe I'll give them all a call!

(Note: This post has not in any way been paid for or sponsored by DIRECTV, unless you count the $20 monthly discount they gave me.)

And, for those who only read this blog so they can see cute pictures of the kids, here's a picture from snacktime tonight.

May 25, 2012

Making progress

Remember the playset that we bought and Seth started putting together way back in November? And that he continued working on in March? And that he made more progess on earlier this month? Well, I'm happy to announce that he finally has  it all put together.


Mostly. There's still an "adventure tunnel" and climbing wall that need to be built and attached, but at least it's now functional for the boys to play on.


Kieran is working hard at learning to climb up the ladder and slide down the slide by himself.


 And he loves the tent part of it. "This is my tent. Do you see my tent? I'm in my tent."


And Cael is also enjoying the time he spends playing on it.


But mostly he enjoys playing in -- and eating -- the dirt around it.

Furthering the obsession

The other day, we were playing with Lego-style building blocks, and I decided to further Kieran's interest in weedwackers (which he had talked about all day) by making something akin to a weedwacker for him to play with (until it fell apart, repeatedly).



He enjoyed it. A lot. (Note that I've never claimed to be artistic. I was actually quite proud of myself that it turned out looking like something in the neighborhood of a weedwacker. (And yes, Cael is playing with an empty box. Digging items out of the recycling bag is his idea of a good time.))

But then, my paltry attempt at a weed-wacking device was surpassed by something far, far better(there's probably a spiritual analogy in there somewhere, but I'm not going for it at the moment).

Kieran's Aunt Katy and Uncle Dan had ordered a play John Deere weedwacker for him (after reading the previous post on weedwackers) and it arrived later that afternoon.

He was beyond thrilled. And he couldn't wait to show his daddy when he got home from work.



He's been weedwacking my plants ever since.

(The play weedwacker actually makes a noise if you pull the string and push the button, but he doesn't like the noise it makes, so he continues to make his own weedwacker sounds as he mows down the houseplants.)


Kieran sends his most profuse thanks to Aunt Katy and Uncle Dan!

May 23, 2012

That child

So, you know how at any event showcasing young children, there's always that one child who can't be corralled, who isn't paying attention, who isn't participating nicely like the rest of the children?

Yes, well, that one is my child.

The other night, we went to a "graduation" party for Kieran's preschool class. It was mainly just the kids singing a few songs, saying the months and seasons of the year, going through the alphabet--you know, pre-K stuff. Most of which Kieran knows.

But he wasn't interested in participating. At all. You'll notice he's the only one not wearing a hat and not standing in line with the other kids.


He did, however, receive the "Best Hugger" award, which he then proceeded to demonstrate by giving out some more of his hugs. Can you count how many time he hugs someone in this two-minute clip (two of the people he didn't even know)? And can you see how uninterested he is in the whole thing?

 

(Have I mentioned that over-friendliness is byproduct of Williams syndrome? I'm really looking forward to the session on "Distinguishing Between Friends and Strangers" at the WS national conference we're attending in July . . . .)

At any rate, I really appreciate the patience and the genuine interest and caring his teachers have shown toward him this year. Mrs. Karla's twenty years of experience in working with kids and those with special needs have been invaluable in helping him--he definitely wouldn't be as far along as he is without the help and support he received through her. I'm so thankful the Lord let us to her little preschool, and I'm looking forward to having her continue to teach Kieran over the next few years.

May 21, 2012

Twist Ties -- A Confessional

I have a confession to make.

I don't like twist ties.

You know -- the kind that hold bags of bread closed. I find myself annoyed by those small pieces of metal. What does that say about me? (It's a rhetorical question--don't answer it.)

The first thing I do when opening a new bread bag, after spending five minutes trying to get the tie undone only to realize I've been turning it the wrong way the entire time, is throw it away.  I don't have time to spend messing with those things. It's so much easier to just twist the bag itself closed (slighly smashing the end pieces of the bread loaf, but never mind that part) and wrap the end under the bread, thus sealing it even better than the twist tie would have anyway.

I suppose if I were the crafty sort (and if I had a lot of extraneous time on my hands and if I were into gaming), I could make things like this out of the discarded ties. Or, if I were the OT sort, I could find ways to use them with Kieran to help with his fine motor development. But I'm neither of those things. And so into the garbage can go the thin wires, off to spend their remaining days languishing among the rotting banana peels and stinky tuna cans.

Oh wait. I recycle, so there aren't any tuna cans in my garbage. And I sometimes compost, so there are no banana peels in the trash to keep a twist tie company. Just those empty bread bags around which it once found its purpose and meaning in life. Ironic, isn't it?

And while we're on the subject of twist ties, I'm prompted to ratiocinate on how those ties get on the bread bags in the first place. What lucky person gets the job of twisting strings of metal around plastic bags? And how do they keep from getting carpal tunnel syndrome?

And finally, by the way of another confessional, if we've ever visited you and you've wondered, "Where have all the twist ties on my bread loaves gone?" Well, now you know . . . .

So tell me, how do you feel about twist ties?

May 16, 2012

Weedwackers


One of the characteristics of those with Williams syndrome is a tendency to perseverate on a topic. So I'm not sure if Kieran's current obsession with weedwackers is a byproduct of WS or if it's just him being a little boy with an avid interest in a certain item.

Whichever it is, weedwackers have become the thing he thinks about morning, noon, and night. For example, can you spot the weedwacker in the picture below?


He did. Immediately. As we were reading A is for Adam the other day, we came to this picture, and he said, "Look, a weedwacker." And we couldn't read any further because he needed to analyze the "weedwacker" Adam was holding. I didn't really have the heart to explain to him that what Adam used was not really the equivalent of the Husqvarna his daddy uses.

And, can you see the "weedwacker" in this picture?


He did. Actually, he vacillates between calling it a weedwacker and a vacuum. But weedwacker usually wins.

Weedwackers have also started showing up in the songs we sing. The other day, as Cael and I were singing Old Macdonald had a ___, Kieran chimed in with weedwacker . . . with a zzzzzz here [he does a pretty good imitation of a weedwacker sound] and a zzzzzzz there. 

And weedwackers are also on the bus -- The weedwackers on the bus go zzzz, zzz, zzz.

I believe they were also in the Mother's Day song Seth tried to get him to sing on Sunday, Happy weedwacker to you, happy weedwacker to you, happy weedwacker, dear weedwacker, happy weedwacker to you.

As we were playing with Mat Man from Handwriting Without Tears, instead of making Mat Man, he wanted to make a weedwacker with the pieces.

And today, when I was listing the things I needed to get from the store, "Milk . . . bread . . .", he added, "Weedwacker."


The irony in all of this is that when he sees an actual weedwacker being used, he covers his ears and freaks out a bit. I guess it's more of a love-hate relationship.


So, what say you -- perseveration or just a boy being a boy?

May 15, 2012

I don't understand

A few weeks ago, Seth and I watched this video by a man whose son was born with multiple disabilities, including blindness. One of the points he made has really stuck with me. The Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Christians living in Corinth, writes about the unity we have in the body of Christ. While discussing how we all play different roles in the church, Paul says, "those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable" (1 Corinthians 12:22).


Think about that in relation to those with disabilities: those we consider "weak" are indispensable in the body of Christ. Paul, an amazingly intelligent and gifted man, considered those who are "weak" to be indispensable. Not just "a good part of the body that we're happy to have along," but indispensable. Meaning the Body of Christ can't function without them.

That's certainly a different mindset than what we hear from our culture today--a culture that teaches the disabled are burdens to be borne and frequently disposes of them while still in utero.

One of the ways those who are disabled contribute to the body of Christ is through what we can learn from them--compassion, kindness, patience. I've already seen this with Kieran. My friend Georgia tells me that she's talked to her daughter about Kieran and encouraged her to be compassionate toward him. This has carried over into the way her daughter treats other children in her life--she's reached out to a girl in her class with mental disabilities who needs a friend. Would we know what compassion was if we didn't have anyone on whom to show it?

I recently watched this video of Larissa and Ian. If you haven't already, take a few minutes and check it out.



Amazing video, isn't it? I appreciate their message of God's sovereignty and goodness in the face of such suffering and the way God has been glorified through their lives, but the video left me wondering why. Why would this girl give up so much to marry someone who could give, in return, so little humanly speaking? They weren't married -- or even engaged -- when Ian was in the car accident that caused his TBI, so why would she willingly choose to stay with him -- to marry him -- to pledge to be his wife for the rest of her life -- knowing what that would entail--when she didn't have to? He can't offer her what most men bring to the table -- the ability to provide for her, to be a strong protector . . . . And yet, she married him. . . . Why, indeed . . . .

And, I'm coming to realize, that this is where those with disabilities may offer us, as Christians, an even greater indispensable service. Those who are unable to do for themselves, who need help with the very basics of life, who can't contribute much if anything to a two-way conversation, offer us a glimpse of what we are like in the eyes of the God of the universe.

As I've been meditating on Ian and Larissa's story, feeling unsettled and wondering why, trying to make sense of their lives together, I've also been continually brought back to the realization this is the way Jesus has loved us. Me. I bring nothing to the salvation table -- the marriage beween Jesus and His church. Nothing. I am helpless, unable to produce any type of work in the sight of the Holy Creator that would make me acceptable to Him or worthy of His love. I can't provide anything that helps me along the narrow way to salvation. I have absolutely nothing to contribute to my salvation from sin.

 And yet . . .
When the kindness and the love of God our Savior toward man appeared,  not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us, through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit, whom He poured out on us abundantly through Jesus Christ our Savior, that having been justified by His grace we should become heirs according to the hope of eternal life. (Titus 3:4-7)
Larissa remembers the way Ian used to be -- before his accident -- and she longs to see him return to his former self and wants to be there along the way to help him. Because she loves him.

I suppose, in a way, this is a reflection of the way God is toward us. He remembers the way He originally created mankind -- innocent image-bearers full of His glory, full of life, full of love and peace. And He longs to see us return to that original state of perfect harmony with Him. And He has provided the way for us to do that through His Son. What love. What amazing, incomprehensible love. I don't understand it.

Thank God for His goodness in giving the indispensable weaker members to teach us of His great love toward us.

May 13, 2012

One year

Is it just me or has the last year just flown by? I can't believe our little Caely (Seth hates it when I call him that) is a year old already.

He's a funny little guy who finally started sleeping through the night at 10 months and who enjoys launching himself into my lap and who likes to wrestle with his brother and who loves to eat marshmallows (and, actually, food in general) and who has an overwhelming desire to put anything into his mouth and who has a penchant for pulling items out of drawers--all while smiling.

He has a little toy truck that he likes to carry around, so I thought I might make a cake in its likeness. Only it didn't really turn out the way I'd hoped. It's a bit more on the feminine side.


But he seemed to enjoy the taste of it, without minding the colors.


 One day old
 One week old
 One month
 Two months
 Three months
 Four months
 Five months

 Six months
 Seven months
 Eight months
 Nine months
 Ten months
Eleven months
One year!

Happy birthday, Cael!

May 12, 2012

Wheels for Williams

 Kitchen window, day 150

This week is Williams syndrome awareness week and there have been lots of events around the country this past weekend and today to raise awareness for WS and funds for the Williams Syndrome Association to help with research, educational opportunities, and scholarships for camps and conferences (among other things).

We went to an event today that was a bit different from the other events, which were mainly walks. We went to the first one two years ago, skipped last year (due to Cael's arrival), and made it again this year. This event was a cruise-in (called "Wheels for Williams") with lots of older cars and things with wheels.


There was even a little hot-rod that Kieran tried out (I don't know if he was allowed to, but he did).


We met the friends we'd met two years ago.


And Kieran and Daddy checked out the cars and the fire engines.

A fun time was had by all. We're looking forward to next year!

May 9, 2012

Haircuttery

 Kitchen window, day 149

So, if you know me well, you know that I can't cut hair--my own or anyone else's. Seriously. I can't. Well, I can, but the experience never ends well. (Go here for a review of my past hair-cutting episodes.)


Cael's hair has been looking rather long lately. And I've been suggesting to Seth that he cut it, but he hasn't had the time.

So this morning, I grabbed Cael and a pair of scissors and went to work. Just around the ears. And the back of his neck.

And when I was finished, I thought to myself, "Well, Seth will need to redo that."


If you look closely at Cael in the picture above
(taken this afternoon),
you'll notice that his hair is missing some pieces.

And, as soon as Seth walked in the door this evening after arriving home from work, he took one look at Cael and said, "What happened to your hair, buddy?" And I said, "Oh, come on, it's not that bad." And he said, "Have you looked at it lately?"

And so, after dinner this evening, Seth remedied Cael's hair situation by taking the clippers to his soft blond locks.


And, unlike Kieran who screams bloody murder whenever we cut his hair (you'd think his hair had nerve endings the way he carries on) and who screamed bloody murder when we were cutting Cael's hair, Cael sat patiently in my lap while Seth buzzed his head.


All's well that ends well.

May 4, 2012

Little drummer boy

Kitchen window, day 148

Not much of substance to say today--just a what-I-consider-to-be-cute video of Cael playing a "drum."



(PS -- No flies have ever been swatted with that flyswatter.)

Time and effort

 Kitchen window, day 147

When my sister and I were still in school, my mom went back to school to get her teaching degree accredited. For one of her assignments, she had to write and illustrate a children's story--she chose to base hers on my sister and me and called it, As Different as Night and Day. It was about a momma bear who loved each of her two cubs, even though they were each very unique and different. Sounds like a sweet story, doesn't it? I still think she should dig it up and get it published.

I've been reminded of that story with my own boys and the differences I've seen in them. I realize that no two typically developing siblings are alike but  there are more pronounced differences between a typically developing child and one with special needs. And the differences I've noticed between Kieran and Cael can be summed with two words: time and effort. The time it takes to learn something and the amount of effort it takes to master a skill.

Those things that Cael has learned to do, almost overnight, took Kieran much longer to learn:

Cael was walking by nine months -- Kieran walked at 15 months
Cael started "talking" when he was about 10 months -- Kieran said his first word at 27 months
Cael started climbing stairs almost as soon as he started walking -- Kieran is still working on climbing up stairs without help
Cael can throw a ball at at 11 months -- Kieran didn't really start throwing things until late into his twos
Cael started using his pointer finger at about 8 months -- Kieran didn't learn to use his index finger to point until he was 13 months


Cael is able to pick up new skills much more quickly than Kieran has. And he does it with much less effort. Cael is, almost, self-taught in a lot of areas -- not because I'm not interested in helping him, but more because he decides he wants to learn something and doesn't wait for me to teach him. I came out into the kitchen one day and saw him standing on the top step of the small step stool we have for Kieran to climb on to watch us cook. He'd climbed those steps without my ever having shown him how.

When Kieran learned to climb, it was a much slower process of showing him, repeatedly, how to place his feet and where to put his hands. It was the same with walking. We continually stood him up on his feet, holding his hands, and encouraged him to walk between us. It was a months-long process that we worked on with his OT and in our time with him. We put a lot of effort into teaching him to walk and he put a lot of effort into learning the process himself.

When Cael decided he wanted something, he pointed at it. He didn't have any trouble isolating his index finger. He just did it. With Kieran, we continually showed him how to close his hand and point with his finger. That, too, was a months-long process. He finally learned how to do it when he got a toy that played music by pushing a small button -- small enough that only one finger could work it. He wanted to hear the music badly enough that he eventually learned to push the button on his own, after we'd shown him over and over how to do it.

Cael picks up two things -- one in each hand -- and bangs them together. We spent quite awhile showing Kieran how to clap two items together. How to transfer one item from one hand to another. How to stack blocks. Basic things that you wouldn't think would require much effort to do.


It was the same with talking. Cael started babbling when typically developing babies do--without our help. He repeats most of the sounds we say to him without effort. When we were outside yesterday, he pointed to the neighbor's basketball, said "ba," and walked over to it, wanting to play with it.

Kieran never really babbled and coaxing any type of sound out of him was like pulling a cedar tree through the eye of a needle. With his speech therapist, each week, we'd talk about the sounds he'd made -- He said an s sound this week! I heard an F last Tuesday! He made an X sound yesterday! We checked off the letters in the alphabet one by one, except that he also wasn't putting them together into words. We put a lot of effort into teaching Kieran how to talk -- and, in fact, we're still doing it. He has speech therapy once a week throughout the school year, and we're still working with him on forming sentences, articulating what he wants and needs, and talking about life in general.

Having Cael around has highlighted for me how much effort Kieran has needed -- and will continue to need throughout his life -- to learn and master new things. It has helped me see that I really do need to be much more purposeful in teaching Kieran things -- I can't expect him to just "get it" like Cael does. Although, and here's the important point, I can (and should) expect him to "get it" eventually -- with much time and effort -- as he's already demonstrated by all the things he's already accomplished. (And this serves as an encouragement to me as we're in the middle of working with him on learning to write and draw.)

And, here's the other important point, even though there are vast differences between the amount of time and effort each takes to learn, we love both Kieran and Cael very much and are so very glad the Lord has given both of them to us.

May 2, 2012

Making do

 Kitchen window, day 146

The storms from yesterday cleared out of our area and left behind a sunny, hot, somewhat-sticky day.

We went out this evening after supper so that Seth could continue working on the playset.  


While Seth was working, Kieran decided he'd use the climbing wall just as it was, instead of waiting for it to be put up.


And Cael toddled around inspecting everything, eating grass, and chasing the chickens.

We also picked some more strawberries this evening. Delish.