The Adventures of New Dora, etc.

Since last night, when these videos were made, we've had continued success with New Dora. So far, there have been two nighttime brushes and one morning.

I'm shocked. Happily shocked, I tell you.

1. That things are going so well. Is this a trick? When will she turn on me?

2. That I've said it "out loud" because now I've probably jinxed it and she'll turn on me in the morning.

3. That I'm even writing about this at all. Three posts in a row about the brushing of teeny teeth? Eh, I guess this is my life now and I just need to accept it.





There is one line in there that makes me snort every time I've watched it.

Because I am 12.

Oh! Since I'm on a question-asking roll here, has anyone else experienced the noise Playette is making in the second video, starting at about one minute in?

IT'S DRIVING ME NUTSO!

She started doing it a few weeks ago. I have no idea what it is or why. Is it a phase? Does it just feel good? Does it need to be addressed by a professional? If so, Pediatrician or (if we had one, which we currently do not, grr) ST?

I know that she's quite fond of the sound that the letter X makes. I wonder if she's just duplicating that feeling?

Anyway. If you've heard that or have tips, please let me know.

In the meantime, I'll be over here pulling my hair out.

Golden Feedback

Yes!

You peeps are smart. Thank you!

Today, after we got "our" run in (pushing a stroller? hard work.), Playette and I went to the beach with a friend for a bit and then hit up Targé Boutique.

My one and only goal for this trip was to find a kid-sized electric toothbrush. I had no idea how many options there would be and, thus, I was overwhelmed.

The Diz princess looked awful. Like, twelve rounds of awful. I think she was supposed to be Cinderella. I considered the crayon for a second, but then there was also the one that came with stickers so that you could design it yourself. As I was debating the necessity of that project and whether or not it would turn into something that would make twitch...Oh! There's some more that came with extra stuff. Like toothpaste. Then there was a Thomas one that I liked, but Playette has no idea who that is. Still, I like trains. I hate that there's so much girl/boy stuff. Why not just kid stuff?

And then I saw her. We've never watched an episode, but somehow Playette knows who she is. Could it be just because she's on some of her pull-ups? Could be. No matter. The fact that she would recognize this character suddenly seemed of great importance to my cause.

So I grabbed her.

And then I checked to see if she came with batteries.

'Cause if she didn't, she was going back on the shelf.

She was properly equipped.

Whew.

I dubbed her "New Dora."

I tried to make this an adventure, y'all.



I even let Playette ride in the cart-cart and not the actual seat because everything that has to do with brushing your teeth is dangerous fun!

I took a little bit of video of our experience tonight with New Dora, but if you've been reading here a while, you know that I suck at video uploads. This time is no different. I'll keep working on it and hopefully have something to share tomorrow.

Now that she has teeth, they will all fall out.

Because she refuses to brush them.

Whaaa?

Every time I break out the toothbrush, Playette flips out. She'll sign "brush teeth" and act it out it all day, but the actual act? Akin to torture in her eyes.

You should see how I have to do it.

Not fun.

And then I feel like traumatizing her with the experience really isn't helping my long-term goal.

I sing songs, I dance, I entertain, I model the behavior I want to see.

And nothing.

Any tips, oh wise ones?

This morning, though, she did go into the drawer in our bathroom and take out the toothbrush that I use when I travel (oh, and yay for mad fine motor skillz, but dang are things harder when she can open bottles and other typically-hard-to-open thingees). So, yeah, at first I assumed that she wouldn't get it open because sometimes I have trouble with it, but nope. A couple of minutes later, there she was:


Soooo, do I just get her a grown-up brush? Is that the issue, maybe?

BD says she looks like an inmate when I take pics of her up against the plain wall like this. Ha!

I made it.

That's what I keep thinking.

Here it is, right close to midnight, and I made it.

I'm not talking about posting, I'm talking about making it though a crapfest of a day.

You've had those, right?

When everything is happening and none of it in the way that you envisioned?

When you want to be patient and loving and enjoy the beautiful day while running errands with your Little(s), but then you notice that your jaw hurts because your teeth have been clenched too tight for too long?

"BeBe and CeCe" made a long, unwelcome appearance in my house today. That's what I call Playette when she's doing a lot of whinin'. Usually, she's either BeBe or CeCe, but not today.

One of us did a lot of yelling and crying at one point, but it may not have been the one you're thinking.

Looking back, I can laugh. It's funny now, twelve hours later, how back then I was begging for noon to come because I was sooo sure that a bad morning was going to turn into a great afternoon.

I ate a lot of Wheat Thins today. Like, half a box. While sitting on our balcony and gazing at the peek-a-boo view of the ocean. Yeah, Wheat Thins. They made me feel better while Playette took an 8 minute nap. At least they're not graham crackers and Nutella.

Baby steps.

Another thing I can laugh about is how hard I worked to prepare a meal for a new mom (I volunteered and tonight was my night) only to go to my email to verify her address and notice that the very things she didn't want were in my dish. Like, prominently.

Oh, geez.

I screwed that up big time.

I hope she'll let me make that up to her.

I had a big event to attend tonight. Unfortunately, our sitter was quite ill and we had to make other arrangements. Thankfully, I've learned how to ask for help when I need it and it all worked out in the end.

What's that, Maya? If it's not ok, it's not the end?

I think about that quote a lot these days.

So, I made it to my event. A fundraiser. Wanna see what my couple of glasses of wine on top of an empty Wheat Thin-filled stomach bought me in the silent auction?


There are cookies in there. Lots of cookies. And chocolate and a blanket, maybe a mug, picture frame bookends, and a couple of autographed children's books.

Comforting, huh?

I like winning stuff.

Once I got that and my mushroom risotto followed by 2+ desserts, I was in a much better mood.


Yes, I ate all of that. The apple crisp? That went really fast. I barely remember it. I drew the line at dessert #3. No, wait. I did eat the strawberries off of that plate. But fruit is good for you, so YAY!

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I made a new friend.


It's all ok now.

The end.

The Travel Deets

Ok, so maybe this will be the most boring post ever, but, eh. I just feel like sharing.

So, I was very proud of myself for being all packed and ready to go last Wednesday night. I even put the suitcases in the car so that there would be no delays in getting us to the airport by 5am. I didn't get much sleep, but I figured that I'd catch up during the two plane rides.

On Thursday, I was up at 4, got myself cleaned up and dressed and then did the same with Playette. We were a few minutes late leaving, but such is life with a three-year-old and a very sleepy mama.

Our airport is close by and teeny tiny so I didn't anticipate any problems.

That was my first mistake.

As I dragged our luggage through the doors, I realized something.

The line was long. Really, really long.

And it wasn't moving.

The plane wasn't there. It never landed the night before, due to fog, apparently.

And that fog? It was still lingering.

After about an hour, we made it to to the counter. The hope was that we could still make the connection, but it was already looking bad. Just in case, the agent saved us seats on another, later, flight that would take us though two different cities, adding another leg of travel and several hours.

I really wanted that original plane to show up.

I had packed a lot of snacks, but still.

Fast forward 5.5 hours, two itinerary changes, another hour in line, a Signing Time DVD on the laptop, two calls to United customer service, two trips through security, and zero planes landing and I was D-O-N-E. So were the snacks.

Playette was doing remarkably well. Since I hadn't packed enough pull-ups in the carry-on to get us through such a long day, I was making sure to take her to the bathroom regularly and she was doing great.

There weren't many breakfast choices, so we shared a croissant, which did not please my companion. I tend to forget sometimes that so many things are firsts for her. I don't think she had ever had croissant before and to have it all smashed and butter-drenched was not exactly appealing to her. Too bad my brain doesn't work the same way.

So, yeah, I was done there. I ended up calling to get on the same 6am flight the following day that we had originally been booked on and when I confirmed the details, I was informed that, yes, I was on the flights, but Playette was not. There was no room for her.

Okayyy.

That wasn't gonna work.

So, my next option was to come back that night and take 3 planes to Wisconsin. It had to be done. There was no way were weren't taking this trip. But even though Playette was in good spirits, she looked awful. She was getting sick and I welcomed the break from the airport.

After retrieving our luggage, a friend came to get us and brought us home. On the way, I called the pediatrician and made an appointment to get the Littlest checked out. The last thing I wanted to do was take a sick kid to someone else's house and get all their kids sick. I at least had to know what I was working with.

After the doctor's office, we got scripts, lunch, and came home for much-needed naps.

At 7pm, the fun started all over again.

This time, though, the plane took off. Late, but still. We left.

When we landed in LA shortly before the flight to Chicago was to depart, I noticed that the carseat dolly thingee was broken. I had made the mistake of gate checking it and they were not gentle.

That, frankly, sucked.

So not only was I loaded down with carry-ons, but now I had the dolly, Playette, and the carseat to get wayyy across the airport to a flight that was already boarding.

I didn't have enough hands.

And no one at the gate was offering any form of assistance.

Until this one pilot became my hero.

He took Playette and I grabbed everything else and we ran. I mean RAN. I was soooo grateful for my tennis shoes and all the miles I've been putting on them lately because we were on a mission. Missing another plane just did not feel like a viable option.

When we got to the gate, I was a sweaty mess and they were waiting on us. Like, "Really? Where have you been?"-type waiting on us.

I grabbed our outstretched boarding passes (thankfully, they thought to change our seats so that Playette and I would now sit together), thanked the pilot profusely, and walked onboard.

There were about 7000 people on that plane. And they were all giving us that same "we're waiting for you" look.

I try not to get embarrassed about things like that that are out of my control, but I could feel my face getting hot. I was already sweaty and loaded down with stuff and we had a long way to the back of the plane. I didn't have the hands to keep Playette close, but, thankfully, she makes friends quickly and was saying "hi!" and waving to everyone she passed.

So, as I fumbled in first class, I looked up and saw a familiar face. When I see famous people, I always first think that it's someone I know personally. It took a second to register that, no, this was not my 11th grade History teacher, this was Smokey Robinson. "Tears of a Clown" and "Quiet Storm" and a million other songs Smokey.

Suddenly, I perked up. I looked at him and quietly said, "I'm a big fan," and then shuffled down the aisle, after Playette, feeling good and humming songs.

We had a pretty long layover in Chicago, close to three hours, so Playette and I hung out in the frequent flier lounge (free snacks!). Guess who else was there? Mr. "Cruisin'" himself.

He made eye contact and I said, "Hello again." He got up from his seat and greeted Playette, who did not happen to be at her friendliest. We talked for a couple of minutes (He said that Wisconsin is beautiful - true!) and then we said goodbye so that he could get back to resting. Playette offered an "I yuh oo" as we walked away.

I was too tickled. I really like him.

After breakfast, we made our way to the other side of the airport (thank goodness for luggage carts!) and boarded the last, short flight to our destination.

It was a long beginning to a great weekend. All worth it in the end.

Day 1 in WI: Promised Pics

Since I am legalistic, this is yesterday's post (I passed out on the couch last night before I got a chance to get it published). I still have to write something for today. 31 or bust!

So, while the two 3s were making their way to Friendville and Lily was temporarily keeping a safe distance...


...Michelle and I, thanks to her wonderful husband taking charge of all five children, made out way to the Elk Lodge to hear Rachel Coleman give a presentation.


If you don't know who Rachel is, you've obviously never been to my house. In my house, and many others, she is an icon. She is, in her words, "a rock star to preschoolers." And it's true!

Though, I must admit, I love me some Rachel as well.

She has played a significant role in my child's development. The program that she co-created with her sister, Emilie Brown, has brought communication into our home well before Playette was able to speak. And that's HUGE, people. HUGE.

So, not only does my kid have a second language that connects her to so many more people, she can tell us her wants, needs, and desires, and has been able to do so in increasing complexity for a long time now.

Plus, she can impress people with her mad signing skillz. I can't say that I don't enjoy that. Take that, stereotypes! My kid can learn, and teach, yo!

Rachel told that room full of parents her story and how it related to the creation of Signing Time. She shared with us how she dealt with unexpected challenges. She had me BAWLING. And then she sang, which made it that much more messy for me.

It was a great messy though. I'm so glad that I had that opportunity.

After a lot of chatting and snacking once the presentation was done, Michelle and I headed back to the house. But first, we stopped at the grocery store, where I discovered that that whole Packer thing?

It's serious.

Not only was the whole store decked out in the signature colors, but so were the snacks.

Check out these Rice Krispie treats.:


How can you not love people that color coordinate their snacks?

I have to wonder what the cashier was thinking when we stopped to take this pic. I mean, it was midnight and I was being a total tourist.

That reminds me. I look really sleepy in this pic, huh? There's a good reason for that. I had had a long couple of days. In my next post, I'll tell you why.

Open Book

That's me.

Go "Anonymous" if you like.

This is my one open invitation for you to do so.

And don't worry about me tracking you down.

Anyone who knows me can tell you that I'm too lazy to do that stuff.

Even though I promised pictures from our trek to the land of battered fried cheese balls (mmmm), that will have to wait another day.

Why?

Because I unexpectedly had a few Ds-inspired moments today. They caught me totally off-guard.

While away, my TiVo overflowed. That should tell me that I watch too much crap, but instead of beating myself up about it, I grabbed some goldfish crackers (OMG, when did they get so good?!) and plopped on the couch to watch the latest episode of "Glee."

Now, if you don't watch the show, I must tell you that one of the characters in the ensemble cast is both coach to, and a younger sister of, a person with Ds. Her name is Sue.

So, in this episode, Sue is talking about her personal spiritual beliefs and how those came to be.

She said that she used to pray as a child because she noticed that her older sister, whom she idolized, was not respected by other people. They made fun of her. They called her names. And that made Sue very sad. She wanted it to stop. So she prayed for her sister to be cured.

<<< OMG, TEARS! >>>

So, yeah, I welled up a little.

And then, after that was over, I clicked over to "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition." Now, I don't usually watch that show, but I recorded it this time because a friend informed me that they were featuring a family that included six people with Ds. Michelle and I caught part of the episode, but I didn't see the beginning and I wanted to know the backstory. (Big ups to Blackberries with TiVo apps.)

I just feel like I have to say some things here.

I don't care what you hear on TV.

1. People with Ds are not banished to a life indoors. They can leave the house and live fulfilling lives.

2. Adults with Ds are not "kids."

and

3. It is insulting to call people with Ds anything other than people who happen to have Ds. Saying things like, "They're Down syndrome."? Really? How does that even sound right?

There was more, but those are the things that really stuck with me.

It was a nice house when they were done, so yay. But damn. No one thought to correct the voiceovers?

I also heard, on Rosie O's radio show this morning, a woman who called in regarding Glee say, "blah blah blah and then the part with Sue and her Down syndrome sister blah blah blah."

Grates every time.

Why must people say it like that? Why do so many people use it as an adjective instead of as a noun?

Honestly, I can understand if someone were to describe me as "the Black lady", but would you call me "Sore Throat Crittle"? Or, because Ds is not an illness and I don't want to even to allude to it as such, "Size 7.5 Shoe Crittle"? Would you say that I am my size 7.5 shoes?

I don't know if I'm being perfectly clear here, but the point I'm trying to make is that I have a sore throat and I wear a size 7.5 shoe. Those are not who I am.

Playette has Ds. It's not who she is. She is so much more than her diagnosis.

Ahem.

Ok, so at least as I watched "Teen Mom" tonight (don't judge me, my kid was already asleep), I noticed that they bleeped the R-word.

That made me feel a little better.

So.

What I originally came here to say was:

ASK ME WHATEVER YOU WANT ABOUT DOWN SYNDROME.

PLEASE.

There's a lot of bad info out there.

I want to help.

Do it for the "kids."

I'm kidding.

Only about the "kids" part.

Totally serious about you asking me whatever you want to know about all things Ds-related.

Personal or otherwise.

Go anon or email me directly if you must.