tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36379767251750495892024-02-19T10:14:34.639-07:00Our Life...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1416125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-38881215068064645872019-02-20T06:26:00.002-07:002019-02-20T06:26:57.287-07:00Goals, Resolutions and Choices.Even when I was young I was taught to make goals.<br />
<br />
Little ones.<br />
<br />
Big ones.<br />
<br />
It didn't matter.<br />
<br />
Just set goals so that I would accomplish something.<br />
<br />
I hate setting goals.<br />
<br />
Well now, I do anyway.<br />
<br />
When I was younger I would set a goal and "voila" I'd achieve them:<br />
<br />
Run hurdles in high school track-- check<br />
Run for Student Council and make it in-- check<br />
Beat my dad in a race-- check<br />
Read the Book of Mormon-- check, check, check<br />
Memorize the Articles of Faith-- check<br />
Grow out my hair-- check<br />
Stay in shape (too easy)-- check<br />
Make the high school basketball team-- check, check, check<br />
Earn my Young Women's Medallion-- check<br />
Get straight A's-- check<br />
Get a scholarship to college-- check<br />
Make new friends-- check<br />
Get married-- check<br />
Have children-- ... wait a while....<br />
Find out why you can't have children-- ... wait a while....<br />
<br />
Anyway, do you get the picture?<br />
<br />
It was like I had been fooled my whole life thinking that all I had to do was set a goal and "boom!" I'd achieve it.<br />
<br />
If I didn't achieve the goal it was because I hadn't worked hard enough, didn't want it bad enough, or ... well... I just don't remember not achieving a goal when I was younger... I'm 90 percent sure that might be the rose colored glasses I have to view my past through, but I had so much time to focus on myself and what I wanted to accomplish.<br />
<br />
I set goals all the time now and I laugh at myself for doing it.<br />
<br />
Setting personal goals that are completely for me, don't seem to stand a chance against all that needs to be accomplished just to be a responsible adult, wife and mother.<br />
<br />
I know I made this announcement that I would write more often in my blog and "BAM!!"<br />
<br />
I failed.<br />
<br />
I thought it was such a simple goal.<br />
<br />
But, I cursed myself.<br />
<br />
I should never have said it was a goal.<br />
<br />
Goal? Resolution? What the difference? Really Rachael, did you think you were tricking yourself into succeeding?<br />
<br />
Ha!<br />
<br />
Well, instead of making goals thinking I will check them off like I did as a young teenager, I am going to make strides forward. I mean, heck, I'm lucky to get me and the kids out the door on time every morning... I don't want to wear myself out!<br />
<br />
Yep, I am deciding today that my life's success cannot be measured in goals accomplished, but instead, as strides forward... happy moments... choosing happy.<br />
<br />
My dear friend gave me a gift. It's this cute little sign with a simple motto:<br />
<br />
"Choose Happy"<br />
<br />
So I'm just sticking with that.<br />
<br />
I am going to continue to make a choice every day.<br />
<br />
I've been doing it my whole life.<br />
<br />
Some times successfully and sometimes miserable-y, but I choose it most of the time.<br />
<br />
No goals.<br />
<br />
No resolutions.<br />
<br />
Just choices.<br />
<br />
Maybe I can do that... but I am not going to make it a goal.<br />
<br />
(OK, let's all just face it, I just want to make myself feel better about not writing in my blog as often as I had hoped.)<br />
<br />
((BUT, I did take my daughter by myself to Florida for a week! AND I got a job working at SCERA as a scenic painter!))<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbflVxxxnMPyDPlIy6b5VTSFGkp-GF94XlNIs92fDdQz6lqN6tZvupBBfFdPgw11iHWoK0lnfTd8wlvj3a13451dH4smgyZITy848TrLM8Yn-emK5QaawUHa68_qbXwRi1SLLgh6k-/s1600/IMG_5082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbflVxxxnMPyDPlIy6b5VTSFGkp-GF94XlNIs92fDdQz6lqN6tZvupBBfFdPgw11iHWoK0lnfTd8wlvj3a13451dH4smgyZITy848TrLM8Yn-emK5QaawUHa68_qbXwRi1SLLgh6k-/s640/IMG_5082.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsu-BLsv8cZpYT1N1d2h0vOP9SDDBjKG3ZEWeRNlBQoLgYSz8cD3hLdi_chMYUqydBrT02bZZlrdDlkx05RB0_Tfa1OBq38yxEFBDsqGszc2vLRF_NQNdWq_5Y1fFZus9ZHqIc82Yc/s1600/DSC03272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="993" data-original-width="1489" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsu-BLsv8cZpYT1N1d2h0vOP9SDDBjKG3ZEWeRNlBQoLgYSz8cD3hLdi_chMYUqydBrT02bZZlrdDlkx05RB0_Tfa1OBq38yxEFBDsqGszc2vLRF_NQNdWq_5Y1fFZus9ZHqIc82Yc/s640/DSC03272.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>photo by me, courtesy of SCERA</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>photo by me, courtesy of SCERA</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPTQ7vHn95fFZdkiTI8K-o9g_zbE4-KEGLAcFRi2NlOXmyNU0YaXV_Qv0TY3aglSuw31urcEv85vEna164uq6dsox8shFHqHipZk3upf5WzzURplho8qdX8_Zx7pQhRXTjgTLVkPr/s1600/DSC03068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPTQ7vHn95fFZdkiTI8K-o9g_zbE4-KEGLAcFRi2NlOXmyNU0YaXV_Qv0TY3aglSuw31urcEv85vEna164uq6dsox8shFHqHipZk3upf5WzzURplho8qdX8_Zx7pQhRXTjgTLVkPr/s640/DSC03068.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>photo by me, courtesy of SCERA</i></td></tr>
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<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-77759750084568945682019-01-13T23:04:00.000-07:002019-01-13T23:10:28.160-07:00PuzzledMy dad has loved doing jigsaw puzzles for as long as I can remember. I learned how to put one together and I LOVE doing them and the challenge they bring and that it is a challenge I can succeed in finishing.<br />
<br />
I am often the sibling that starts a puzzle with him before everyone else gets there on Sunday and they have to jump in to help finish it so we have the table for dinner. Dad and I have learned to do the 500 piece or less so we can succeed in this before dinner is ready. The 1000 piece puzzles are more for the days we are doing puzzles only and not having a big family dinner.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8BmLiye8i_KxLhyYCFzbVGBsHrY9jL4v9igT03B4LLssucGbG_N-212Xd5hPrne3RMX34unoD0wtzdmaDf8u1G4qtaPv7U7x-383orwSaOekuWWXtFHLKGnSwfImZSwjulLWrM5o/s1600/IMG_2760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8BmLiye8i_KxLhyYCFzbVGBsHrY9jL4v9igT03B4LLssucGbG_N-212Xd5hPrne3RMX34unoD0wtzdmaDf8u1G4qtaPv7U7x-383orwSaOekuWWXtFHLKGnSwfImZSwjulLWrM5o/s640/IMG_2760.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marc has been so thoughtful with his picture taking lately and I was so happy to see he got this one of me, <br />
my brother and my dad all working hard to place our pieces so we could make room for dessert.</td></tr>
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<br />
Avery has been really into doing puzzles for about a year now, but it does go in spurts. She gets very nervous that she won't complete it just right when she is first starting, but once she gets past the nerves she flies through them. She has asked Marc often to do a puzzle with her.<br />
<br />
Here are couple over the last 2 weeks that they have worked on and completed:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRG1DRmYDJkVO5lcV2KdlRmUR4QqBgYYclfX4yVeAK4bjwEGonVP47NYdTHAToMh5hEZoKdKKjAZi5S8c-tugyyTdXidmBKRThFkgCwRhgqslKwjK1gMaxY-e7KM0erR5gAjOEVqKr/s1600/qDRjpVPuRcSDYGIDw9w6wg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRG1DRmYDJkVO5lcV2KdlRmUR4QqBgYYclfX4yVeAK4bjwEGonVP47NYdTHAToMh5hEZoKdKKjAZi5S8c-tugyyTdXidmBKRThFkgCwRhgqslKwjK1gMaxY-e7KM0erR5gAjOEVqKr/s640/qDRjpVPuRcSDYGIDw9w6wg.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm so proud of her for doing these puzzles and really challenging herself</td></tr>
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<br />
When putting puzzles together with my dad, he always taught me to flip all the pieces over to the picture side up, find as many edges as you can to start building your frame, then find sections and work on the sections as you find them, and when possible, have a reference picture of the finished puzzle.<br />
<br />
If I sit down with a pile of puzzle pieces and pick only one out of the pile, I just stare at it for a while not knowing where it belongs.<br />
<br />
I know I wouldn't be successful doing it that way. I would get overwhelmed, frustrated and just give up on finishing the puzzle at all.<br />
<br />
I do better with a framework to work within and kind of get my bearings on where certain sections of the puzzle belong.<br />
<br />
So here I am in my life, slightly puzzled.<br />
<br />
Yep, life itself can also be puzzling.<br />
<br />
I think I have my framework together and then as I get moving along I realize that I had some empty spots so get hung up on finding that one piece and then I inadvertently skip over the pieces that compile the beautiful sunflower field that belongs in the center. Or, in relation to life... I feel like I am not doing all I can as a wife or mother, which are like the framework of my existence these last few years and I forget to enjoy the pieces that have fallen together without really even noticing-- like the laughter of the kids when they tell each other jokes, the moments they serve and help one another or the hugs they shower me with.<br />
<br />
Sometimes the middle comes together before all the framework has been laid in place, but the important part to recognize is that it is the puzzle, as a whole, that shows the entire picture.<br />
<br />
You have to step back and look at how your life is coming together beautifully piece by piece.<br />
<br />
There may be "empty" spaces that we see as we step back to look at it all, but that doesn't mean that those pieces were lost or given to someone else... it will all come together in time.<br />
<br />
We have to trust the Creator that He has given and will still give us all the pieces that are needed to complete the full picture.<br />
<br />
Until it is altogether, just enjoy the process of figuring it out, studying it out and the smaller pictures you can depict along the way.<br />
<br />
And, ya, sometimes there is a whirlwind that will sweep some, if not all, of the pieces into a pile on the floor. But trust me, you will be able to pick all of the pieces back up and start placing them one-by-one back into place and it may seem more familiar as you go along this time so you just have to soak up the wisdom you have gained in the experience.<br />
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I guess I'm saying all this, not because you need the advice/analogy, but more so is that I do.<br />
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I need to remember to keep placing my pieces and enjoy the process on not dwell on the pieces I haven't found yet.<br />
<br />
<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-23785428113983293072019-01-07T23:44:00.000-07:002019-01-07T23:44:23.127-07:00A Sinking FeelingThe water pressure in our kitchen sink has been absolutely horrible the last few days.<br />
<br />
It has been driving me nuts because I can't rinse things off/out as well as I'm used to. I mean, I am a busy woman, I don't have 2 minutes to rinse out a chili can so it can go into recycle... no! I have 15 seconds. Give me the water pressure back!<br />
<br />
Because things seem to go awry so often around here I just assumed that along with the other two leaks we have buckets sitting under, that we had now sprung a new one that was affecting our water pressure. I mean, that would be the logical explanation... think the worst and then if it's just a clogged faucet head then it will seem like an answer to a prayer!<br />
<br />
See how I work? I plan for the worst so I can get excited when it isn't so bad. This is how I lead a happy life, it's not a positive outlook, per sé, it's more of a positive attitude toward the negative that gets me through life.<br />
<br />
Ha ha!<br />
<br />
It's true though.<br />
<br />
Anyway, so miracle of miracles, we indeed did NOT have a leak in our kitchen plumbing! We had a clogged faucet head from hard water deposits! Woot! Bring in the hubby to pull the faucet head apart, bring out the ammonia to soak the hard water deposits off and leave the sink undone for a bit.<br />
<br />
Then fix dinner.<br />
<br />
I didn't know what to fix for dinner.<br />
<br />
I wasn't really in the mood to cook... OK, really I wasn't in the mood to tromp out the back door into the cold, down the snow-covered stairs and into the dark garage whose light never seems to light the corner that the deep freeze is in so I have to pull out my phone to use as my trusty flashlight only to realize I left it with Joslin in the house so now I would be rummaging through the dark freezer with my fingertips hoping to find what I thought might be chicken.<br />
<br />
Nope, I wasn't in the mood for that routine so I decided to do chili dogs because that was stuff I had in the cupboard and the fridge inside. I had solved my problem before even facing it.<br />
<br />
I opened two cans of chili and scraped them out into a pan to cook.<br />
<br />
OK, chili in the pan. Burner on.<br />
<br />
Wait... my eye sees the empty chili cans. I need to rinse them out before the chili gets all hardened on the sides and makes life worse for those who work with our recycling.<br />
<br />
But the faucet head is off the sink and sitting on the other counter...Wait... (I think to myself) it's just the faucet head that is off and soaking in ammonia. The line that slides up and down through the faucet is still usable.<br />
<br />
So I grab the end of the hose and begin to rinse out the chili cans! The pressure is back! I am so excited to rinse out this chili can in 30 seconds flat!<br />
<br />
The first can getting rinsed out was swift and no issues so I moved the clean can back to the counter and grabbed the other dirty chili can.<br />
<br />
But this time the water and the sink had sneaky plans.<br />
<br />
Right as I went to pick up the hose running the water a burst of pressure pulled the hose out of me hand and began violently whipping water all over the kitchen and into my face.<br />
<br />
This experience was quite shocking and, therefore, I wasn't thinking correctly as I turned to face the offending hose trying to get the hose out of the the neck of the faucet where it had retreated like a turtle or a child who knows they did something wrong.<br />
<br />
Then it hit me.<br />
<br />
Well, yes, the water... but other than that the clear thought, "turn off the water!" shot into my head.<br />
<br />
The fountain of rebellious water was now back under control and the hose had retreated comfortably in the the neck of the faucet.<br />
<br />
Water was dripping from my eyelashes, my shirt and pants were soaked and I could here a dribbling of water behind me.<br />
<br />
I looked around and there was water all over the stove and the counter next to it. So much water was on the countertop that it was creating its own Niagra Falls in my kitchen.<br />
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My first gut reaction was to scream and yell that it happened and then I caught myself and started laughing hysterically.<br />
<br />
"Bwa ha ha ha ha a!!! Who does this kind of stuff?<br />
<br />
Me.<br />
<br />
I wish I could have had it recorded so you could all laugh at the spectacle.<br />
<br />
But, I thought to take pictures to give you a slight idea.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZR4DNv0BrULtF0nuSLiKukcwG33a6K18obG0ewe9SYqsAMJSzPWYyS8ddhidIAG0HQtHsvBNW1pHFAIJJ-0EfWCk20DetlDDEJ-VbMq_6qkIGK7yu8IB_AJsWoX0ZranjicqEGE__/s1600/IMG_4122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZR4DNv0BrULtF0nuSLiKukcwG33a6K18obG0ewe9SYqsAMJSzPWYyS8ddhidIAG0HQtHsvBNW1pHFAIJJ-0EfWCk20DetlDDEJ-VbMq_6qkIGK7yu8IB_AJsWoX0ZranjicqEGE__/s640/IMG_4122.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sprayer part that I was cleaning.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's the hose that the sprayer goes onto</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlpXcxocmxXS4W5BlYRSySUr2Lii_j6EXG92R5iBGmKEcDTXY9Y3nA7pkbFbUVMr98UZarZEctk2e5w6lZxJ-G2-mKsA4gwn602W7T0VIaP3TjvFxMY2-eJIad7h3W_7dB2sJ0QOLe/s1600/IMG_4121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlpXcxocmxXS4W5BlYRSySUr2Lii_j6EXG92R5iBGmKEcDTXY9Y3nA7pkbFbUVMr98UZarZEctk2e5w6lZxJ-G2-mKsA4gwn602W7T0VIaP3TjvFxMY2-eJIad7h3W_7dB2sJ0QOLe/s640/IMG_4121.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the culprit. This tiny little hose end peeking out of the faucet's neck.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRwC9v0tNk6Xg1uuCamkMzt_VWEuAHEjcMD-3a9e5v_sYN0xHskGWCV_aeKtwoj9u-2siMTls4HptuBGKPPsxDN6gs0qxovjaw_G8tTdInWFeUwbUHdCrmtVzGbHnH1VuZtukbOGlD/s1600/IMG_4124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRwC9v0tNk6Xg1uuCamkMzt_VWEuAHEjcMD-3a9e5v_sYN0xHskGWCV_aeKtwoj9u-2siMTls4HptuBGKPPsxDN6gs0qxovjaw_G8tTdInWFeUwbUHdCrmtVzGbHnH1VuZtukbOGlD/s640/IMG_4124.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ignore the mess and look to the left where my hand is holding the faucet tubing. I wanted you to have an idea of how far the water shot out.</td></tr>
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Only me, guys! Only me!Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-82387665119491818602019-01-05T22:36:00.003-07:002019-01-05T22:36:49.988-07:00The not-so-cheery cheer momIt's Saturday and I was up at 5:45 am this morning when my phone started chirping it's annoying, yet effective, wake-up call.<br />
<br />
I had this day in the bag.<br />
<br />
I got up and went downstairs to wake Brighton up so I could be sure to get him to the cheer bus on time.<br />
<br />
We didn't have to be to his bus until 7:30, but considering all the work I had to complete today and the fact that Brighton can take some of the longest, most pointless, showers in the world, I knew I had to start early.<br />
<br />
He was actually really good to spring right out of bed. He always is when he knows that cheer is involved that day.<br />
<br />
I started editing some photos while I let him take his time in the shower since no one else was getting up any time soon so he could hog all the hot water. Surprisingly, though, he was done in 20 minutes! It usually, even with my strong encouragement and guidance, takes up to an hour. This signaled to me his extreme excitement for the big Sparkle Cheer Competition in Roy, Utah.<br />
<br />
Seeing him being so motivated and independent this morning got me even more excited for my plan I had set out in my head of Marc, me and the girls driving one hour and ten minutes to go see his competition routine.<br />
<br />
We got his snacks ready, his meds, his iPod and HSM (High School Musical) microphone---he was ready to compete.<br />
<br />
He looks so handsome in his OHS Sparkle Cheer Uniform.<br />
<br />
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<br />
His Former coaches, Abi and Debi applied for OHS' special needs cheer team to be part of the National cheer group created for people with special needs The Sparkle Effect. So, now, even though Brighton doesn't go to high school anymore, the brought Brighton on as an "Assistant Coach." He loves every minute of it.<br />
<br />
I was trying to get housework done while simultaneously getting work done so, as you can see, I am setting the stage for my daily problem.<br />
<br />
I try to do too much. I always have some kind of fantasy notion that I can fit it all in before I have to leave to get somewhere.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, that between all the work and chores I was trying to get done all while wrestling the girls resistance to getting ready for the day, the constant teasing and dodging to get out of getting ready because they don't want to ever leave the house... we got a late start.<br />
<br />
I still had high hopes that we would make it just in time with our miracle smooth drive up into the Salt Lake City area.<br />
<br />
But after our final wrestle and threat to get the girls in the van and then once getting in the van trying to calm Avery's nerves down so that she wouldn't explode in the car when it really hit her that we were driving such a "long way" to Roy. She was screaming and kicking the seat and I was beginning to wonder if she would have.<br />
<br />
After about a 30-minute drive North we got a text message that The Sparkle Team was about to go on. We still had 45 minutes to go.<br />
<br />
We weren't going to make it.<br />
<br />
After waking up to my chirping alarm, running around all morning getting work done, housework started, getting Brighton ready for the day, running him to the bus at the high school at 7:30 am, pushing Avery through her anxiety about leaving, dragging Joslin out of bed and getting her ready with all the resistance she could muster all while I was trying to work my job and the household...<br />
<br />
I had failed.<br />
<br />
Failed as a mother.<br />
<br />
Failed as a supporter.<br />
<br />
Failed as a responsible adult.<br />
<br />
It took everything in me to not completely melt in the car as we got off the freeway just to turn around and get back on to head home.<br />
<br />
I wanted to cry.<br />
<br />
A lot.<br />
<br />
I had to miss his competition last year when he was still in high school because of my ankle surgery. Marc went on his own to represent both of us and his parents even showed up. But I had missed out. I was sad then and thought I would never have the chance to see him perform cheer again.<br />
<br />
So when he was invited back to be on the Sparkle Team, I was so excited that I would be able to attend his competition this year.<br />
<br />
Nope.<br />
<br />
Not this year either.<br />
<br />
I still want to cry just writing about it.<br />
<br />
Thankfully though, my friend was there to watch her daughter cheer so she recorded Brighton's Competition cheer and dance for me to see.<br />
<br />
I watched it.<br />
<br />
Then I cried again.<br />
<br />
He was so happy to be there and was so into the whole thing, it was and absolute joy to watch him in his element. He just loves being a cheer leader!<br />
<br />
So, because I was upset about that I decided to take my frustrations out on paint and went and painted some pieces for the newest set for SCERA. I think it helped.<br />
<br />
I'm just trying to remind myself that it was the thought that counted... right? I tried. I planned. I meant to be his number-one supporter...<br />
<br />
Well, anyway, you'll have to watch the video and then you'll see why I am so proud of him and why I wish I could have seen it in person... I especially would have to loved to be a participant in the standing ovation they received for their routine.<br />
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<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gaVGVXLNAAE" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />
Brighton was so proud.<br />
<br />
A standing ovation.<br />
<br />
I missed it.<br />
<br />
Again.<br />
<br />
But, I'm going to be OK.<br />
<br />
Eventually.<br />
<br />
In fact I'm already doing better because Joslin, our youngest, came in and gave me hugs and kisses and kept smiling at me and giving me hugs and kisses and sat on my lap while I finished up some work.<br />
<br />
Then she snuck away with my phone.<br />
<br />
She was just schmoozing me to get my phone...<br />
<br />
... sigh...<br />
<br />
Oh, well, it was sweet anyway.<br />
<br />
I'll be fine.<br />
<br />
I'll just sit over here in this corner while you pat yourself on the back for doing a better job than me today.<br />
<br />
It's OK.<br />
<br />
Really, I just want you to be happy.<br />
<br />
Ha! Ha!<br />
<br />
Sorry, I thought I was funny.<br />
<br />
I needed a laugh!Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-11446568254488684452019-01-02T23:37:00.003-07:002019-01-02T23:37:58.991-07:00Just Goals. Not Resolutions.I've set so many goals for myself this year.<br />
<br />
I don't know why I do that to myself.<br />
<br />
I guess I thought goals sounded better than resolutions so I got over excited, I guess.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiI8Lxg9dNx_ut9A75ru9eOejDFoa-G7jEMamju7skamphhtSk6j8woliNqsiLkNiF4jNtsdq3oq574BsdIElI188rkpt4mZMFkJ7AZHUOqYFGMhkpmTpSwCIo95FUUWVu64s4bmYU/s1600/fb904697-aa4c-4054-be65-ca9a3313916f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiI8Lxg9dNx_ut9A75ru9eOejDFoa-G7jEMamju7skamphhtSk6j8woliNqsiLkNiF4jNtsdq3oq574BsdIElI188rkpt4mZMFkJ7AZHUOqYFGMhkpmTpSwCIo95FUUWVu64s4bmYU/s640/fb904697-aa4c-4054-be65-ca9a3313916f.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby instigated and directed this photo! She's so funny!</td></tr>
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<br />
Two days into the new year and I'm not excited anymore.<br />
<br />
Now, don't get me wrong, I am excited... just not about the fact that I have so many goals... that is daunting, not exciting.<br />
<br />
But, I'm keeping them all just so I can at least, accomplish something.<br />
<br />
I've come to accept and be OK with my mediocrity. It's OK, really, I've learned that if I can accept the mediocre that I just get that much more excited when it is even better.<br />
<br />
Anyway, one of my goals is to write in this blog 3 or more times per week.<br />
<br />
A few years ago I had a goal to write every single day no matter how short, what my "up" of the day was. That was very therapeutic for me and I am realizing how much I miss writing my deep thoughts and posting them into oblivious internet space... whatever works!<br />
<br />
Anyway, I'm not going to have a theme this time. Just going to keep my thoughts and experiences here so I can remember it all and enjoy reading back on the memories.<br />
<br />
I even started subscribing to Chatbooks to get my pictures in a book every month. I'm in archival mode apparently.<br />
<br />
I guess I also just need a creative writing space... whether it is creative or just journaling, I'll enjoy it.<br />
<br />
So here's a synopsis of the last 6 months:<br />
<br />
Our oldest son started a vocational school for adults ages 18-22 and he loves it. His first job was with a horse stable that does equine therapy for kids with special needs. His line when I comment on how proud I am of him is, "I just shovel poop, Mom!" He's so funny! He was quite embarrassed for the first few weeks of work, but we just kept telling him that any work is commendable. He seems to have gotten used to the idea for the most part. He just loves being around horses.<br />
<br />
Our middle one started 8th grade this year and she seems to be enjoying it thoroughly. She is so huge in to reading and gets books all the time. She loves to search for books she likes at Savers, our local thrift store. The books she is most into now is Alex Rider and Percy Jackson books.<br />
<br />
Baby is talking up a storm and is completely full of so much sass that sometimes all I can do is laugh. She's absolutely hilarious and we learn new things about her almost daily. Like, who knew what a good rapper she was... I really need to get it recorded.<br />
<br />
I've started working more at SCERA as a scenic painter and it has been so much fun for me and having coworkers again is a lot of fun.<br />
<br />
Marc had an adventure starting July 30th that led him to needing knee surgery to repair his knee. You can see how that all started by watching this video:<br />
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<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZO_q7Oa7-fE" width="560"></iframe><br />
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So that's the catch-up. Wish me luck!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-F51YgixdoMnTf6hbNJo5ew59nZken7Gs-WxYKtJGf73_Liu_bLBY51JUJOJTbyt4DseqHivcWN0-Vu3Mbxc0ea4Wf4-AHkZRewSQ0flA1PCw_15kk0Ah2ecPDNiCXq7IklIicBi/s1600/DSC00228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7-F51YgixdoMnTf6hbNJo5ew59nZken7Gs-WxYKtJGf73_Liu_bLBY51JUJOJTbyt4DseqHivcWN0-Vu3Mbxc0ea4Wf4-AHkZRewSQ0flA1PCw_15kk0Ah2ecPDNiCXq7IklIicBi/s640/DSC00228.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my most recent set piece I painted for SCERA--an 80's styled run down garage facade.</td></tr>
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<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-25602108507498073242018-11-28T00:21:00.001-07:002018-11-28T09:14:04.504-07:00Cookies, Camp and a Wild Cat"I made a mistake!!!"<br />
<br />
"No!!! I didn't mean to say it! I made a mistake!!"<br />
<br />
"NO!!"<br />
<br />
These phrases were not exclaimed calmly, intently or even distinctly.<br />
<br />
She was screaming so hard and balling so dramatically that I almost gave up.<br />
<br />
We've been prepping Sister for over a year now to attend Young Women's Camp this summer.<br />
<br />
We had prepped her for about 9 months to attend Young Women's Camp last summer, but because she was a little younger than the suggested age of 12 and she was throwing such huge tantrums about it, we thought that maybe it just wasn't right for her that year and committed ourselves and her to coming this summer.<br />
<br />
Truth be told: her tantrum this year was bigger than last year's which makes me think I should have pushed harder last year.<br />
<br />
(sigh)<br />
<br />
I won't go into all the preparation speeches, tactics and plans, but I will tell you that it all seemed to be completely worthless when one hour before departure time I started prepping her for leaving and then it all "hit the fan" as some people say, and boy oh boy, this was not an exaggeration for the actions that took place.<br />
<br />
If you're a parent or any kind of caregiver to a toddler you all know the "noodle move." I swear they take a class in the nursery at the hospital to learn things like this so it is instilled to all of them at birth!<br />
<br />
The noodle move is an evasive move that causes the caregiver to not get a grip on the person in order to pick them up and carry them to where they need to be. The noodle move means to let your limbs go completely lifeless and limp so that no matter how a person tries to grab hold the evader just slides out of your grip. The thing is that toddlers are still small enough you can usually still carry them even if it means to escort them sideways through a hole in the fencing.<br />
<br />
In Sister's case I was trying to get her from the front/family room out to the car and she's no toddler anymore and carries a bit of weight with her... I felt like I was wrestling an octopus and sometimes a kangaroo depending on what limbs were flailing closer to my face. After 15 minutes of trying to grab the octopus-kangaroo girl I just had to give up. It wasn't working!<br />
<br />
But, you know me, I don't give up that easily... so I realized at one point while I was holding her feet to stop her from kicking that I was actually able to get a good, firm grip around her ankles and I began to drag her across the floor.<br />
<br />
She was screaming all sorts of things... some things I couldn't even understand, but I caught the drift that it was all related to not wanting to go to camp and what a mean mom I am, but the best lines were "I made a mistake!!!" which was referring to Marc and I reminding her that she had told us last year she would go when she was 12 and she promised... well, she was still screaming that she did not want to go this year.<br />
<br />
By the time we got to the top of the stairs to go out the front door I realized that the foot tactic was not going to work as she now had the advantage over me that I would easily topple down the stairs with one flailing kick so I miraculously grabbed her around her waist and with my super woman strength was able to drag her down the stairs and out the front door.<br />
<br />
I have to admit that after years of doing this kind of thing to get our kids out the door for an activity that I don't even think about what the neighbors or passers-by might be thinking when they hear the blood-curdling screams, threats and sounds of dying elephants. It's just part of my life. It's how we roll around here. So I got quite a laugh when long after this whole thing was over and I was telling my neighbor friends about it they said, "Oh we heard her! We didn't know it was her, we just heard the screaming and ran out to see what was happening. When we saw it was you and [Sister] we were just like, 'oh, it must be time to go to Girl's Camp."<br />
<br />
Anyway, long story trying to act short, but still long,...<br />
She screamed and cried and ranted from Orem to Spanish Fork... that's a 25 minute drive...<br />
T w e n t y - f i v e minutes! Non-stop melting.<br />
<br />
Then, like a light-switch she was OK. We were talking about camp and the drive and all the new places to see in Spanish Fork. So we went to Burger King and got some dinner.<br />
<br />
From there to the turn-off for the camp, it was actually quite pleasant and enjoyable. So it was about an hour of "normalcy."<br />
<br />
Then came the turn-off.<br />
<br />
I made a huge mistake.<br />
<br />
I didn't realize the turn-off had come so soon and had to make a slightly dramatic maneuver. This moment set Sister off in a way I don't know that I had quite witnessed before. She was doing everything she could to get me to turn that car around. She was flopping everywhere and at one point she started trying to grab the wheel, push the emergency brake and wave her hands in my face.<br />
<br />
This was all very tough for me to keep my cool as I was driving along, but some how we got to the campsite where the young women and leaders were already.<br />
<br />
I opened my door to get out and it was a trigger for Sister to go all "wild cat" and flee from her front seat to the back window hissing and banging on the window to friends and passersby.<br />
<br />
Have you ever tried to put a cat in a box?<br />
<br />
I am amazed at all the things a cat can do to prevent itself from being surround by cardboard walls. This is the best way to explain Sister's utter and complete meltdown. It was like I had to peel each of her fingers away from the window and back seat and it wasn't easy.<br />
<br />
I decided instead of fighting it I would calmly start to remove our things from the car and give her time to process it and scream behind the closed car doors. At this point I was able to witness from an onlooker's naive perspective the site of a 13-year-old girl crouched and pressed in the back window cove of a Toyota Corolla... that's not much space. At one point , while I had the back trunk open to remove some of our things, she had climbed to the front seat only to grab the COSTCO size, flimsy, plastic container of cookies and throw them against the steering wheel and mash them into the driver's seat. (Apparently I blocked that part out completely because I forgot to write about it in my first draft... I mean, it looked like the cat I was trying to pull out of the car had pooped and vomited all over... it wasn't pretty... at all.) Each time I tried to clean the fairly firm, yet melting quickly, chocolate chips off the seat she would stamp her foot in it and scream to go home.<br />
<br />
At this point I was ready to give up and just go home, but I told myself I would at least clean up the chocolate "poop" from my seat before giving it all up to go home. I'm amazed at what a mother can clean up while your grown child is stamping on your hands, hitting your face (no wonder I blocked all this out) and maniacally pulling at the controls of the car telling it she has to get out of here! All this was going on while her friends from camp were coming to say hi to her and encourage her to come, she even yelled at them. It was as if a wild cat had jumped into the back of my car for protection from the environment and was hissing threats and unkind promises.<br />
<br />
After several attempt by several girls, one girl approached the car and with surprising excitement Sister hopped out of the car to give her a hug.<br />
<br />
That moment redirected all her fear and anxiety and the rest of camp was truly bearable.<br />
<br />
She was amazing and truly loved every minute of it.<br />
<br />
We were there 5 days and it was fabulous to see her interaction with everyone, what a big helper she was. She brought her light to camp and everyone loved her for it.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Was it all worth it?<br />
<br />
For sure.<br />
<br />
Was it really hard for me?<br />
<br />
Absolutely.<br />
<br />
Was it one of the best times of her life that she still talks about?<br />
<br />
Yep, and she doesn't even remember the wild cat... at all.Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-34217790895250973982018-11-26T23:47:00.002-07:002018-11-26T23:47:40.607-07:00A Turnover TumorBrother turned 19 on the same day my brother, Daniel, turned 37 so, of course, we had a double birthday party at our house!<br />
<br />
Daniel and his family came from Florida for Thanksgiving so we tried to pack in as much as possible.<br />
<br />
Anyway, back to the birthday party...<br />
<br />
My mom made cherry and apple Turnovers (they're little fold-over pies) because Daniel and Brother both like those more than cake.<br />
<br />
The turnovers were, of course a hit and there were many side conversations about them, but I wasn't prepared for Sister's immediate drilling questions after talking to my brother, Aaron, about a turnover he had saved out for later.<br />
<br />
A: Mom. Wbat's a tumor?<br />
<br />
Me: Looking slightly confused after hearing this seemingly random question. "It's a mass that..." (I explained it as simply and quickly as possible)<br />
<br />
A: Where can you get a tumor?<br />
<br />
Me: "Anywhere, really."<br />
<br />
A: "Does it make you die?<br />
<br />
Me: "Well, sometimes that can happen..."<br />
<br />
Sister persisted with this curiosity about tumors until she asked, "No, where is it? Why is it on top of the fridge?"<br />
<br />
....................................................................................................................................<br />
<br />
Then I reflected back to the conversation with my brother and how he was explaining to me that he had put the turnover for Chelsea on top of the fridge.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Ah ha! She wasn't asking about a TUMOR, she was asking about the TURNOVER!<br />
<br />
Ha! ha! ha!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvZUVG-J-qLMhm5JZ1-CuQfJMdJ0QwyaeZ0lnvExzfamWoJZEVBxpdKU4jK-zsHq9FOjK6IbRzWyY6UtQGAhaZJJrqAYJAzba9sDxwTtfkTFa70tcrKsJa_Cj9odr2oKBVWdrEcPP/s1600/IMG_2872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvZUVG-J-qLMhm5JZ1-CuQfJMdJ0QwyaeZ0lnvExzfamWoJZEVBxpdKU4jK-zsHq9FOjK6IbRzWyY6UtQGAhaZJJrqAYJAzba9sDxwTtfkTFa70tcrKsJa_Cj9odr2oKBVWdrEcPP/s640/IMG_2872.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always practicing her smile!</td></tr>
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<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-23581662813928195142018-07-13T22:34:00.002-06:002018-07-13T22:34:46.005-06:00Salt and VigenarNo, spellcheck, I meant to type vigenar.<br />
<br />
It's one of those Sister sayings again.<br />
<br />
Man! I get such a kick out of her mispronounced words! She has some real doozies, but the best part is when you correct her she gets upset with you and insists that's what she is saying as she says it wrong again. We have learned the hard way that you can't laugh about this though... it is not funny to her.<br />
<br />
Do you remember the "Persimmon" post years back? If not, you really need to brush up on your reading... go <a href="https://marcandrachael.blogspot.com/2010/06/persimmon.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>... then come back... I have more to say...<br />
<br />
Done?<br />
<br />
OK, just thought I'd check in...<br />
<br />
Now are you done?<br />
<br />
OK. Perfect, now back to the vigenar.<br />
<br />
The reason why salt and vinegar is even a term in our household would be that it is a STRONG flavor and when you have children who are sensory seeking/needy, flavors can play a huge part in satisfying that sensory. Salt and Vinegar are two of the strongest flavors there seems to be that you just can't describe other than "salt and vinegar."<br />
<br />
Ever since Lay's (at least they are the first brand I ever knew of that made this particular flavor) came out with flavor Brother has been savoring it completely. So much so that his lips swell and get all white from all the salt and pucker! Ha!<br />
<br />
Also, I buy 20 pounds of apples 2-3 times per week for the same reason.<br />
<br />
Sensory input.<br />
<br />
Granny Smith green apples are the tartest and therefore the most preferred.<br />
<br />
But they are not always good through the year and around this time it seems they are always soft until the next fall crop comes in. So I have discovered several types of apples that our kids will eat that are crisp and tart and the winner this summer has been the JAZZ apple.<br />
<br />
Why do I tell you all this? Well, I am pretty sure that my kids are not the only ones with sensory needs who live around here and I am positive that I am not the only mom who tries to get a good deal on groceries.<br />
<br />
I thought I was so cool when I discovered that Smith's Food and Drug had a store brand of salt and vinegar potato chips for way less than the Lay's brand AND had even stronger vinegar flavor! Perfection! And the apples my kids always want are always 99 cents a pound and have been for the last few years. I had discovered a way to not break the bank and still satisfy the sensory tastes of my kids.<br />
<br />
Win-win!<br />
<br />
But, I think there is someone else in my same situation because lately I have been going and they are out of salt and vinegar chips AND hardly any JAZZ apples left (only 8 pounds which last us, maybe, two days) so I am left to choose Sour Cream and Onion chips and sift through the soft Granny Smith Apples or take a chance that the gala's will be crisp still at this time of season.<br />
<br />
Some one else has kids like mine and have discovered my secret!<br />
<br />
Smith's is the place for affordable sensory needy foods!<br />
<br />
How did this get discovered?<br />
<br />
I haven't told anyone until now.<br />
<br />
But, I guess I am OK with it. I want to help others so I will just have to deal with the fact that I may have some competition in the realm of sensory foods.<br />
<br />
(Sigh)<br />
<br />
Thank you, Smith's Food and Drug, for your commitment to all of us mom out there who have children who are addicted to strong-flavored and snappy-textured foods.<br />
<br />
I just have one request.<br />
<br />
Can you stock more?<br />
<br />
Because kids who are sensory needy are also very routine needy and aren't very happy when momma ain't bringin' home the bacon... or, in this case, salt and vinegar chips and Granny Smith or JAZZ apples.<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
The Vigenar Mom<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxu2SK90Y49JZMYDvIGSAJDt0HlTBKvdgV-k6F4QXoRqHYYG9NZnbKj8bhp0nuRM4CDMmYr1NiVut-dvv8z2EC9rXu_suS4nFWS_t-BkjfLmoBHzJcvtskolnF3ubOXwR_8wOQ-9r/s1600/IMG_9737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxu2SK90Y49JZMYDvIGSAJDt0HlTBKvdgV-k6F4QXoRqHYYG9NZnbKj8bhp0nuRM4CDMmYr1NiVut-dvv8z2EC9rXu_suS4nFWS_t-BkjfLmoBHzJcvtskolnF3ubOXwR_8wOQ-9r/s640/IMG_9737.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These lovely photos were captured by their Uncle Joel. <br />If you look closely you might see some of the left-overs of their salt and vinegar chips on their faces...</td></tr>
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<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-78500626671029796302018-07-11T23:58:00.001-06:002018-07-11T23:58:25.393-06:00Life has a LeashI was taking my kids to summer camp this morning and came to a stop sign.<br />
<br />
It was the usual stop sign.<br />
<br />
Nothing new.<br />
<br />
But this time I saw something interesting.<br />
<br />
As I was waiting for the cross traffic to clear I couldn't help but watch intently, a woman pushing a stroller while talking on her cell phone and pulling a black lab on a leash.<br />
<br />
Yes.<br />
<br />
I said "pulling."<br />
<br />
I think if the dog wasn't so determined to not fall she would have been dragging him.<br />
<br />
She seemed oblivious to the dog's struggle and just kept pushing forward, busy on her cell phone, pushing the stroller with her elbow and pulling the leash with her free hand.<br />
<br />
I, and my kids, were able to watch her cross all the way to the next corner because of the traffic and as I pulled through to turn the corner I rolled down my window and hollered with as much compassion as I could fit into a yell loud enough to reach across the street, "It's leg is tangled in the leash!"<br />
<br />
As I was rolling out of her view I tried to smile really big so she knew that I wasn't trying to be rude, but helpful, I don't know that she was happy with my efforts either way and didn't seem to realize what I had said until she was in my rear view mirror. I saw her stop confused and start to untangle her dog from it's binds. I honestly don't think she realized that the dog was tangled.<br />
<br />
I mean she had so much going on, she probably just thought her dog was being resistant to her direction.<br />
<br />
After rolling up my Sister began to reprimand me for yelling at someone on the street and also told me that what I said was rude. I chuckled inside as this did seem rude as she most likely didn't understand why I was trying to get her attention.<br />
<br />
Then during her lecture I started thinking about the life's lesson in that experience.<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
I'm sure you've noticed that I've been absent from my blog for some time and even with that I wasn't blogging very often since the beginning of the year.<br />
<br />
My analogy:<br />
<br />
I've been like that black lab we saw today--limping along, trying to keep up without falling, stumbling, getting hurt and not quite knowing how to get me leg out of the leash so that I could walk at pace I could handle and not end up getting dragged along.<br />
<br />
Life has a way of wrapping it's will around us and pulling us along whether we feel like we can or not.<br />
<br />
I couldn't be more proud of all that Brother did this past year.<br />
<br />
I couldn't be more grateful to all those who helped him succeed.<br />
<br />
I couldn't love more the people, friends and family who have loved him no matter what and have nurtured his desire to grow up and be a happy young man.<br />
<br />
But it was all happening so fast, so much, so forced that I was falling behind in all that I had to do as a mom of children with special needs who are trying to be as "typical" as possible.<br />
<br />
Overwhelmed and under-prepared I continued forward even if I was only limping along in the process.<br />
<br />
And then watching him graduate high school was like finally crossing to the street corner so that I could stop and assess what was keeping me down.<br />
<br />
There have been lots of "drivers" along the way who have tried to yell from their driver's side window where it all was seemed so "clear" to them,<br />
<br />
"Oh, we all go through this. Welcome to having a high school graduate!"<br />
<br />
"I know, it's so hard when they graduate... having to let them go and hoping they make the right choices in life."<br />
<br />
or, "It's so hard on us mom's to let our kids grow up."<br />
<br />
I'll let you figure out on your own how I feel about those comments. They weren't horrible. They were well-intended and they were meant to put us all on an equal playing ground. I get it, I do.<br />
<br />
Anyway, to make a long story/analogy short; I finally got the leash that life was trying to drag my by and untangled it and I feel like Life only has to tug at me a little bit now to keep me moving.<br />
<br />
Here are a few photos of Brother's big high school graduation so that you can smile and enjoy the fruits of my limping across this moment of my life.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgt3QXxHD1OAShK80VCFRvf5ZAIi4Cm68KSv5goWQ52Ca69VOsY3gQRqvXrE-UU90YgJ9LHaroVHoidlrsJg9zA9DsXW3ByC2AQSH6OjqiStKPr6nWJc-iXbxGpUlK1Q42yx07Az_/s1600/IMG_8528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgt3QXxHD1OAShK80VCFRvf5ZAIi4Cm68KSv5goWQ52Ca69VOsY3gQRqvXrE-UU90YgJ9LHaroVHoidlrsJg9zA9DsXW3ByC2AQSH6OjqiStKPr6nWJc-iXbxGpUlK1Q42yx07Az_/s640/IMG_8528.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After Seminary Graduation with his graduating peers from the ward <br />
(one of these young men left for his mission last week and one of them will be leaving soon!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMvZM7pV7WvZXdWZwWT3SEvuN6NMHBHk5qwOwV6IoKxqt2rHxso1guRaOtqGxlqSR32OM0FZsfL7nIZKSmEdFk_ucAw2N-BK0Ke8Sp0DBzHWgtd9700iRtJLNcEp5ZSSMQzt7x9pa/s1600/IMG_8530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMvZM7pV7WvZXdWZwWT3SEvuN6NMHBHk5qwOwV6IoKxqt2rHxso1guRaOtqGxlqSR32OM0FZsfL7nIZKSmEdFk_ucAw2N-BK0Ke8Sp0DBzHWgtd9700iRtJLNcEp5ZSSMQzt7x9pa/s640/IMG_8530.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I bribed him with sweet tarts for this selfie!</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_esPlPcej501whLASbCOW9XbUSYYhlMRtOJlF23wv3q7091tuAhSeXNMvg8dDbncg8plTDsv_NvUwyZLzJkjiLNw_-V5X1BwwDeEMBfE-k-Txrkb9ZpttzehzyRnWIbv3ONFTC90m/s1600/IMG_8554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_esPlPcej501whLASbCOW9XbUSYYhlMRtOJlF23wv3q7091tuAhSeXNMvg8dDbncg8plTDsv_NvUwyZLzJkjiLNw_-V5X1BwwDeEMBfE-k-Txrkb9ZpttzehzyRnWIbv3ONFTC90m/s640/IMG_8554.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before walking in to the building for graduation </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrJfdbG7jJ_lheg4mW5fLd-2H8r6ap8liS471reZx6g-2_MW6YKj0YcKa3f3S2LJ6lTtUa9Gr2Dn44MLzKo0-i821NZHwXAi3EuNfq-ymMgO5mgRTSAeZc_XS125VJg8K7xWgMunqm/s1600/IMG_8556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrJfdbG7jJ_lheg4mW5fLd-2H8r6ap8liS471reZx6g-2_MW6YKj0YcKa3f3S2LJ6lTtUa9Gr2Dn44MLzKo0-i821NZHwXAi3EuNfq-ymMgO5mgRTSAeZc_XS125VJg8K7xWgMunqm/s640/IMG_8556.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Mrs. Glahn, the angel teacher</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheO4CJDv7j0X36LHGvyitf_hBZlv4zObq5oo8VNOsDWYkxx7Ol9chU-dZ9IMMWw4pIA8JgRhWGnC5Yr66hWyUZefz3RYfP6ipLIsmtkcCMlLl_QUoL-UjOmyQ_WLHcebZ-cQWnm-wm/s1600/IMG_8559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheO4CJDv7j0X36LHGvyitf_hBZlv4zObq5oo8VNOsDWYkxx7Ol9chU-dZ9IMMWw4pIA8JgRhWGnC5Yr66hWyUZefz3RYfP6ipLIsmtkcCMlLl_QUoL-UjOmyQ_WLHcebZ-cQWnm-wm/s640/IMG_8559.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Friends and family filled a whole row ourselves! There to support!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkN8cGaegvm2zShUE7ri6XvldSOCrNBc90ufRcn7fS9sZzFK6BgJLnTbdbeZjGOitQeCU2w-qJP5UpCFBXWPOGOZG4IO8UCap5RL4i0v1H911QGEuDBr-VhJR3jPD1CfN2_zbmKow/s1600/DSC_0558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkN8cGaegvm2zShUE7ri6XvldSOCrNBc90ufRcn7fS9sZzFK6BgJLnTbdbeZjGOitQeCU2w-qJP5UpCFBXWPOGOZG4IO8UCap5RL4i0v1H911QGEuDBr-VhJR3jPD1CfN2_zbmKow/s640/DSC_0558.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He waves his "I love you" simple to all who are cheering for him as he walks to line up to receive his diploma.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_gROqB6famfTb9edbuwOBBOFY3apoq-t7Q8F-1hpAGDbKsoegd_YGS3mhyphenhyphenfDSPxCzANL3tKPP8b1tvBpWpebQSj4wcOwsvR4HDdetVcjfrFgrbCx3FqdextIIMXMmul4R_8BzoX4/s1600/DSC_0580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_gROqB6famfTb9edbuwOBBOFY3apoq-t7Q8F-1hpAGDbKsoegd_YGS3mhyphenhyphenfDSPxCzANL3tKPP8b1tvBpWpebQSj4wcOwsvR4HDdetVcjfrFgrbCx3FqdextIIMXMmul4R_8BzoX4/s640/DSC_0580.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love these next few pictures! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOClwil6fYC71zoDxtwdgara35s2HF7qH5-V6xNwz2xHymaxiFhugXCyZNL8WZy__YkwPy3-jZczBnFr7b4Uqk1vJtJ3uFMwWgn6reINav3H88nP7e1pWqVfRHiIvCeovPyAkrM-gv/s1600/DSC_0594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOClwil6fYC71zoDxtwdgara35s2HF7qH5-V6xNwz2xHymaxiFhugXCyZNL8WZy__YkwPy3-jZczBnFr7b4Uqk1vJtJ3uFMwWgn6reINav3H88nP7e1pWqVfRHiIvCeovPyAkrM-gv/s640/DSC_0594.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep. I'm proud! I'm so proud! This might have been the moment that life started to unwind the leash I was stumbling on...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs4QGUHSeKaAEZUGayO-G8aoc8_Wsi2ApZhTGdWOkuIhyWPkfhMeWxXiSpKn_KDiVQfbShH2xeAjxWW3v2tvtfyzoPQzRCAjB_j83y5bypA3fMzvmLuEdH9DHsHpkfkSrC5c9ChCux/s1600/DSC_0666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs4QGUHSeKaAEZUGayO-G8aoc8_Wsi2ApZhTGdWOkuIhyWPkfhMeWxXiSpKn_KDiVQfbShH2xeAjxWW3v2tvtfyzoPQzRCAjB_j83y5bypA3fMzvmLuEdH9DHsHpkfkSrC5c9ChCux/s640/DSC_0666.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And Mr. Keyes, Brother's Choir teacher! They ended up having such a great relationship. They both grew over 3 years!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JqJFabNsoHF2z66FgTqo-pLGcY-g5NCAJ_cA3jMA_2qUxwKpLxEV3TVo041-sNJpAkguCbWrmoV-Z2d1lPMi-psJKDoNTOv9dapNKaWiVptomQYZLMkZNz6uoumwVSngiNPYKMAz/s1600/DSC_0669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JqJFabNsoHF2z66FgTqo-pLGcY-g5NCAJ_cA3jMA_2qUxwKpLxEV3TVo041-sNJpAkguCbWrmoV-Z2d1lPMi-psJKDoNTOv9dapNKaWiVptomQYZLMkZNz6uoumwVSngiNPYKMAz/s640/DSC_0669.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Following his peers to take his hassle from the right to left side of the cap to symbolize the graduation.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEKjKu9HJjstZnAshEl1GhyphenhyphenZYCfd7KChazQAcIBRS0up0A1KJyVVxWgzCQeqHbewTkhS5letIKHBssaNi2y20dx8v1Fp2UXk0S0e3lgBlFyVN9Hus8udJ98Nv0zkLU1fmvQH0m6oi/s1600/DSC_0683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYEKjKu9HJjstZnAshEl1GhyphenhyphenZYCfd7KChazQAcIBRS0up0A1KJyVVxWgzCQeqHbewTkhS5letIKHBssaNi2y20dx8v1Fp2UXk0S0e3lgBlFyVN9Hus8udJ98Nv0zkLU1fmvQH0m6oi/s640/DSC_0683.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was checking his peers to see if he should be crying like he was probably feeling.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But then he recognizes the excitement and shows off his diploma!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzjqU7sOWx9YQ9jTZHWSZPQjR8YL_-5L9lragOUV5GAGxJO_JGkDfvXAdLjjVthqo4mV8RRaqkA_LM2MkPUmQnra78FY5MeQqaFBK-Ser8x18FIU1sv21dAyLJ1keMH3v6ENpVN6l/s1600/DSC_0714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1064" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzjqU7sOWx9YQ9jTZHWSZPQjR8YL_-5L9lragOUV5GAGxJO_JGkDfvXAdLjjVthqo4mV8RRaqkA_LM2MkPUmQnra78FY5MeQqaFBK-Ser8x18FIU1sv21dAyLJ1keMH3v6ENpVN6l/s640/DSC_0714.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lauren! What would we have done this whole year without his best friend and our greatest ally!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9TXo7mUAEAurX4PKIoIwsRiuQjQpNVbC-hBQaswJd-aPlfu6X9twP0eNfDZx7_sW7Qfgxm2JIU4DA_aOfOQ19KNnFdylpCwE0s-NvWlSePV7Ik4XFXA1DBOazoMHrFINEgE9ys3JL/s1600/IMG_8572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9TXo7mUAEAurX4PKIoIwsRiuQjQpNVbC-hBQaswJd-aPlfu6X9twP0eNfDZx7_sW7Qfgxm2JIU4DA_aOfOQ19KNnFdylpCwE0s-NvWlSePV7Ik4XFXA1DBOazoMHrFINEgE9ys3JL/s640/IMG_8572.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yaya was so proud of him!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrUWqFsdwkynKhBsa9W6C2ZUBwXDgO99GJ9SQsuGVaf44HYePNt89LDkauAzXU7GzFOE8ml8yrL8Gt2ungO_2hz2-Cm0yiFd734hiO-BcrE00n7C3Kc32ItdRgDTS9gySYWCQWH43/s1600/IMG_8618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrUWqFsdwkynKhBsa9W6C2ZUBwXDgO99GJ9SQsuGVaf44HYePNt89LDkauAzXU7GzFOE8ml8yrL8Gt2ungO_2hz2-Cm0yiFd734hiO-BcrE00n7C3Kc32ItdRgDTS9gySYWCQWH43/s640/IMG_8618.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His cheer coaches!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3H_U9NcHha0MDiD1dPjPUYgPyXZWm4gCEhASMnsDXYz9jre60badhlTvYGyBszzNxXV8DXsz34A0SjbibJtlNk0Z82Ie0YbzzsxFgK1Rn4BHKUFRN55jxzAhe0Q64TfEJOwpWtPky/s1600/IMG_8621.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3H_U9NcHha0MDiD1dPjPUYgPyXZWm4gCEhASMnsDXYz9jre60badhlTvYGyBszzNxXV8DXsz34A0SjbibJtlNk0Z82Ie0YbzzsxFgK1Rn4BHKUFRN55jxzAhe0Q64TfEJOwpWtPky/s640/IMG_8621.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4 of the 5 Life Skills Graduates and his dear friends </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWXmcCa2v87gbtDp8fJj0xcpoIg1jshGGe-jgQ2NaWlZcvOkvXF1jPVI0BPPuah95D5YDywHjv7JfFQcDVEe02MSrCLFwIzNAcloeCun_mFNUDKkv6ieyyUC0jRUS5x8_m23DAvTq/s1600/IMG_8672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWXmcCa2v87gbtDp8fJj0xcpoIg1jshGGe-jgQ2NaWlZcvOkvXF1jPVI0BPPuah95D5YDywHjv7JfFQcDVEe02MSrCLFwIzNAcloeCun_mFNUDKkv6ieyyUC0jRUS5x8_m23DAvTq/s640/IMG_8672.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His sweetest friends!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6rlHrm-MCux3MrrDbxx0bov66DYPiAEnImYpRIK-TsQq4d2W3VE0ppnz4d_VzDtdL9rr7tBBz3591HEUq66HClLHhqUqCHCIbJOZNslxzAtcXbQYdpVSeVxMVKDNISFkrMV0FVFo/s1600/IMG_8702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6rlHrm-MCux3MrrDbxx0bov66DYPiAEnImYpRIK-TsQq4d2W3VE0ppnz4d_VzDtdL9rr7tBBz3591HEUq66HClLHhqUqCHCIbJOZNslxzAtcXbQYdpVSeVxMVKDNISFkrMV0FVFo/s640/IMG_8702.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His buddies!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzYMiVSdSpa9_WAjk1FAqhRxwjIiWvVN5lDo1PZiK1D5f0mZC1XWJJb57P_rJbxunCthNbF9ABfLX5IIAx9NKDTtbOdi9pgO5Zp8KHnvFOVYZ9FPXBOF7Qa1lWkr_-Qna723Jhipr5/s1600/IMG_8649.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzYMiVSdSpa9_WAjk1FAqhRxwjIiWvVN5lDo1PZiK1D5f0mZC1XWJJb57P_rJbxunCthNbF9ABfLX5IIAx9NKDTtbOdi9pgO5Zp8KHnvFOVYZ9FPXBOF7Qa1lWkr_-Qna723Jhipr5/s640/IMG_8649.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Besties and Brother... that's what he calls us (smile)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9jSsP1BAABnHDDUsW6sZE8mszWkJER86ImxCY_X60TWUn1Elw3NKNskjiS4y64a8YgQlOS-WedOAbw0ZWNZLBtOPdcR1GxIAyL83SHOTUW6jCfIvi9HQPVqpnkCgDV9yI3phCvnMI/s1600/IMG_8581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9jSsP1BAABnHDDUsW6sZE8mszWkJER86ImxCY_X60TWUn1Elw3NKNskjiS4y64a8YgQlOS-WedOAbw0ZWNZLBtOPdcR1GxIAyL83SHOTUW6jCfIvi9HQPVqpnkCgDV9yI3phCvnMI/s640/IMG_8581.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma Judy's gift. He was really proud!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichbvKYr0T2320bXxLEk6s858LtMmRE2EkiCbE_18b9JgwPatJRthZVytJBwT2mshkLy9K7fByJ2QQLMLtTJsFazjf0kuBwVGfIVpp_PK1wrSl-KUooZ5SPBcuNvioKQlI5bWnYZlu/s1600/IMG_8591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEichbvKYr0T2320bXxLEk6s858LtMmRE2EkiCbE_18b9JgwPatJRthZVytJBwT2mshkLy9K7fByJ2QQLMLtTJsFazjf0kuBwVGfIVpp_PK1wrSl-KUooZ5SPBcuNvioKQlI5bWnYZlu/s640/IMG_8591.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His "other" family</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj_q95EbdxZ73_-7JCjhm8LqHD8jMwFAwAhhpLAV2Okqjtj5FacKJHl3Nj3b00qcQUuhHxyAlFBylgWV4Spjgt2KLvvtnDf8eAY5Pb3-PXPS8PAyRQ4bbpnTRCAJuwg2LY1ppTtLxM/s1600/IMG_8569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj_q95EbdxZ73_-7JCjhm8LqHD8jMwFAwAhhpLAV2Okqjtj5FacKJHl3Nj3b00qcQUuhHxyAlFBylgWV4Spjgt2KLvvtnDf8eAY5Pb3-PXPS8PAyRQ4bbpnTRCAJuwg2LY1ppTtLxM/s640/IMG_8569.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just had to share this photo. This is walking out to where we were supposed to meet Brother after graduation and Lil B was being loved by both our girls (all heart eye emoji's here)</td></tr>
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<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-72445468596039797762018-04-17T14:17:00.000-06:002018-04-17T14:17:47.890-06:00The Happiest Place! (Last Day)Saturday was all about Disneyland.<br />
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Saturday was also redemption day.<br />
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I had learned enough in the last two days that I knew, no matter what, Brother and I would be sticking with Debi and Abby... no matter what. I had discussed that with them too. So, bless their hearts, they completely planned everything around us and what would make Brother the happiest. They had arranged to meet up with a dear friend at lunch so they even made sure to have Miss Menlove in on the plan so that she knew what to do for us while they were gone. We told Brother the plan and even the part where Debi and Abby wouldn't be with us for a little bit and Brother seemed to be OK with the whole thing.<br />
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I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best... or at least better than yesterday.<br />
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Brother's demeanor leaving the hotel lobby that morning was so much more cheerful as we walked with all the team. You would never have ever guessed that just the day before was such a stark contrast. I mean he was even happy to get a picture with Coach Debi and the tiniest little palm tree we've ever seen!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__KRs4YLx9B75Q82LYYnk8ATYkMnzVCGsysqAdSxdGdYCjx-OPMiaoKmE1stuEz9KdnJc4KrhD6NA-oiIfwQkxzLQ7_w01Jk5Wggy_P6wJw7Z-RDgXs1enUcZqRtnhFd1m_wA5GE3/s1600/IMG_4911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__KRs4YLx9B75Q82LYYnk8ATYkMnzVCGsysqAdSxdGdYCjx-OPMiaoKmE1stuEz9KdnJc4KrhD6NA-oiIfwQkxzLQ7_w01Jk5Wggy_P6wJw7Z-RDgXs1enUcZqRtnhFd1m_wA5GE3/s640/IMG_4911.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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The whole walk Brother was smiling and cheerful and I was thankful for every step that was enjoyed.<br />
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On the walk there I was working on my phone cropping the picture of Brother's Disneyland ticket that I had asked Gray to send me from her phone. I just wanted to make it as easy as possible to read for the ticket taker because Thursday night the ticket lady looking at Brother's ticket on Gray's phone struggled a tad and we had to enlarge it and turn it and shield it from the glares so that it could be read... so I was just trying to make life easier for the Disneyland worker we would be cheerfully greeted by at the entrance of the park. (Remember this little tidbit of info for reference in the next few paragraphs.)<br />
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We were all going to meet for the team picture in front of the Disneyland Castle so we were hoping to get everyone there at the same time and soon because everyone was also antsy to split into their groups and jump into their plans for the day. For that reason we all spread out into different lines so we could get through about the same time.<br />
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Alas, we ended up in the unhappiest line in the happiest place... yep... that's how I roll... nothing can ever be easy... ever!<br />
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So I just happened to choose the line that was being run by, I swear, the real and over-grown version of Grumpy, so that will be how I refer to our ticket-taker from here on out.<br />
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I approach Grumpy and he does not break character, "Hello," I grin at him and then leaning in I explain to him that my son standing next to me (who is bouncing and waving with pure excitement, shouting out happy phrases of joy to all as he watches his teammates and coaches entering the park) has special needs and that he lost his ticket but that I had a picture of his ticket on my phone, "What do you want me to do with that? I can't do anything with that. Where's his ticket?" he states and asks with wrinkled forehead and furrowed brow.<br />
<br />
Still smiling, thinking maybe he misunderstood, I explain to him again the situation.<br />
<br />
"Where's his picture? He has no picture. He has no ticket. I can't help you." He states with an astonishingly perfect impression of Grumpy during the part when Snow White tries to get him to dance.<br />
<br />
I am confused at this point. "What picture?" I'm thinking to myself, "what is he talking about?"<br />
<br />
Then I remember, "Oh ya, the lady on the California Adventure side Thursday night did take my picture, but didn't take Brother's."<br />
<br />
"Um, we used this same picture of his ticket to get into the park two nights ago and there was no problem and she did not take a picture of him when she checked his ticket on his friend's phone," I calmly and kindly explained to him.<br />
<br />
I wasn't calm to try to be nice to Grumpy, I was trying to stay calm because Brother was ready to explode. I <i>wanted</i> to step on Grumpy's toe and poke his eye! Brother was beginning to lean into me and growl and show his frustration at what I had caused. This was beginning to cause a little bit of a scene and the people behind us in line were getting ornery and anxious and Brother was sensing it.<br />
<br />
"We came in with an entire cheer team on Thursday and they just handed all of our tickets to us and then they let us all in. No photos were taken. None of us have photos with our tickets, they didn't take photos," one of the Cheer moms that was in the line next to us explained to Grumpy. I thought for sure that would be the ticket to the ticket in... she was forthright and I am a pushover.<br />
<br />
Grumpy didn't care.<br />
<br />
Grumpy then grumbled at Brother and me to step aside so that me and my son wouldn't hold up the line any longer and let another few people in, then pauses and announces that there is nothing he can do and that he can't accept the ticket on the phone. I explain again that I was able to get back into the park Thursday night without any issues and asking him kindly because at this point Brother is starting to yell at me and we are becoming quite the the center of attention. Grumpy the ticket-taker was now frustrated with me trying to get in and was getting annoyed by Brother yelling at me in various moments and sometimes repeatedly one after the other, "Nana's little girl!!!!! Judy's little girl! This is your fault missy!" Brother would push me slightly and show me his mad face while lookers on walked through the ticket gate disgusted with the fact that they had to walk past us to get in.<br />
<br />
We had waited in that line right in front of Grumpy for at least 15 minutes while he let others in and continued to explain he couldn't do anything about it all while not directly looking at us, yet giving us dirty looks. Finally Grumpy relented to, at least, get a manager or something to that effect and that if I was lucky enough they might be able to let Brother in, but he doubted it. I again tried to explain Brother's situation and asked why they couldn't just let us into the park.<br />
<br />
I honestly thought that Brother and I were not going to be let into the park. I was picturing a day like yesterday and was already trying to plan out in my head how we were going to walk back to the hotel without a fiasco... or even going to buy another ticket to get in...<br />
<br />
All because Disneyland employees all along the way didn't follow protocol I was now facing the Protocol King with a side of Evil Queen. From what I understand you are supposed to get your picture taken when you very first show your ticket and then after that when you show your ticket your photo then comes up on their screens so they can make sure you are being truthful or that someone didn't just take your ticket. I get it, I really do, it's ingenious really, but Grumpy had taken it too far and his tone toward my son with special needs was spreading through the line of vacationers. I really wish there would have been some one nice who would have talked nicer, acted nicer and tried to help Brother feel a little more safe and not so targeted and as if he had done something wrong.<br />
<br />
I was also realizing at this point that we were the only ones left in line from the cheer team.<br />
<br />
Brother pushed me a few more times and yelled a lot more times and finally our heroin arrived! She was an older lady...well, maybe my age (ha ha), but she was so nice and it took her only 5 minutes to remedy our situation, get Brother's picture taken and let us through. By this time the cheer mom who had seen what had happened to us had gone on ahead and told Abby and Debbi and they had just arrived in time to see us get through. It was so cute because Debi said it was a good thing that we'd gotten through when we did because she was about to start a ruckus (I know she would have done it in the cutest way, though.)<br />
<br />
On our way in I saw Ariel and there really wasn't much of a line so I decided to get a photo with her so that I could keep my tears at bay. I also thought it might get Brother's mind off of what had just transpired... nope.<br />
<br />
"It's all your fault! Judy's little girl!" he yelled as he marched past me.<br />
<br />
The character handlers offered to take the picture for me, but I really wanted to take a selfie... I mean how often do you get to take a selfie with a Disney Princess right after a run-in with Grumpy?!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxPMoksIY8nvRXtF81Ad7-gJi00IjLxCuBMK6UiJ_U5Ft4oElaa8OhhgD7CDRhOjmozugiKazxieI5ohxm1rivQzLcfaXyGiE1vFQauXObVnaErDpiimfV89CHD2Z0mpHyUMjIMMH/s1600/IMG_4926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxPMoksIY8nvRXtF81Ad7-gJi00IjLxCuBMK6UiJ_U5Ft4oElaa8OhhgD7CDRhOjmozugiKazxieI5ohxm1rivQzLcfaXyGiE1vFQauXObVnaErDpiimfV89CHD2Z0mpHyUMjIMMH/s640/IMG_4926.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWxMf3Bak_d3zs8a0uiPfKcFYZdwwTHKv_Kpm4A8zoMnz97PP4h7iJEKTbngOEwny1YKelm1w02KtzZRgYzUePcqUlZwbyKNodb-8D84kEq2kgV_bNfHhSLe6IABwD5YoLqgkogQVG/s1600/IMG_4928.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWxMf3Bak_d3zs8a0uiPfKcFYZdwwTHKv_Kpm4A8zoMnz97PP4h7iJEKTbngOEwny1YKelm1w02KtzZRgYzUePcqUlZwbyKNodb-8D84kEq2kgV_bNfHhSLe6IABwD5YoLqgkogQVG/s640/IMG_4928.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother got so incredibly excited when he saw Goofy, but was too nervous to stand in the long line for a picture so I told him I'd get a picture for him. I really to wish Brother and Goofy could have met--they have the same laugh!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPEuJ7cyU6hp-LzSSl0iczD03ArVAafJ-wKgSZx_7X4zEM4g2-DPPphZVy06LB_yPoVnKV37ztqNlDXhBxRm4bAI8BgdRLrvLULjZIVCQm2TCccmkl7ngXmNx5PbYoLwdy8k3qbLOA/s1600/IMG_4933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPEuJ7cyU6hp-LzSSl0iczD03ArVAafJ-wKgSZx_7X4zEM4g2-DPPphZVy06LB_yPoVnKV37ztqNlDXhBxRm4bAI8BgdRLrvLULjZIVCQm2TCccmkl7ngXmNx5PbYoLwdy8k3qbLOA/s640/IMG_4933.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my Disney bucket list pictures is me with the famous statue of Walt Disney and Mickey in front of the castle! But it is made even better by the pink blossoms fitting me with a beautiful spring hat!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNWOe_3oXkh3WMzTi4AP5wX9oUzMP-TNWoZbxC2fwlHzeCk6ii5SwvoTE51Ks08MpAtm9NozWmXey95Co8Wu7r-1Mh-M-P-dy3tSdpMaT-piElGRFE3rkR84YSsvdSr-ldi6UUERE/s1600/IMG_4936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNWOe_3oXkh3WMzTi4AP5wX9oUzMP-TNWoZbxC2fwlHzeCk6ii5SwvoTE51Ks08MpAtm9NozWmXey95Co8Wu7r-1Mh-M-P-dy3tSdpMaT-piElGRFE3rkR84YSsvdSr-ldi6UUERE/s640/IMG_4936.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother and Abby (his Disney Team)</td></tr>
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We had missed being part of the team picture in front of the castle because we'd been held up for so long. I was bummed about that and so was Brother, but it was quickly forgotten when it was decided that we would be going through Sleeping Beauty's Castle!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx9QLJqPNudrwMjJeKKnlFV-EGbgiOFe7n-kQAiHZUaNCWz7X5FlgVAZFZKHv_T646NlvwaRZAeS0fO65ZXH9iCHL6PQKR-oPQF7PA7C-rvWfn5nIhIXaJiwnupanzrAZ-SlUJu2Ur/s1600/IMG_4940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx9QLJqPNudrwMjJeKKnlFV-EGbgiOFe7n-kQAiHZUaNCWz7X5FlgVAZFZKHv_T646NlvwaRZAeS0fO65ZXH9iCHL6PQKR-oPQF7PA7C-rvWfn5nIhIXaJiwnupanzrAZ-SlUJu2Ur/s640/IMG_4940.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He wasn't thrilled about the picture only because he was so excited to go inside and he didn't want to wait another second to get in there. Thank goodness he'll do anything for Coach Debi!</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
Oh he couldn't have been more excited and intrigued as we walked through the entire story and he would gasp at all his favorite scenes. This time I was tearing up because he was so happy and I was just so thankful that this day was going to be the best day after all.<br />
<br />
And it really was. I mean, it was almost eerie how perfect it was for Brother, seriously. You will be shocked and amazed at how epic it all was. I'm going to mostly post pictures now and let you take in the happiness and excitement on Brother's face.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9wLKCjNL-2ajHDJrqHU8gAApFMjT12yBp-YDp3N0_eJHTsL5Xhe3hJYqlAWyfX13reTkSta7qOyqKG5lH77oyCtIp7amfnFAaLF58U8xLNJKQsViJwUaIOYOBBzJkbhTPeQLSW0U/s1600/IMG_4955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9wLKCjNL-2ajHDJrqHU8gAApFMjT12yBp-YDp3N0_eJHTsL5Xhe3hJYqlAWyfX13reTkSta7qOyqKG5lH77oyCtIp7amfnFAaLF58U8xLNJKQsViJwUaIOYOBBzJkbhTPeQLSW0U/s640/IMG_4955.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had NO idea that there was a sword in the stone at Disney land! I can't even tell you how excited I was to give it a try. The Disney nostalgia was all just so exciting for me and I could hardly handle the beauty of it all! I felt like a kid again!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZ6_F0BfWqu0vfaEYmUcP8ClzBJ7AKnVcssQ8Z9B1BSNXkfyqQ4BW0zK_18aSHqENhNNrosqau5CviLNTcVG3UZHuAMSTy32i1SnROky52oGwy6aCwvPvhU5nxV9g2fQrZroeHbBS/s1600/IMG_4945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZ6_F0BfWqu0vfaEYmUcP8ClzBJ7AKnVcssQ8Z9B1BSNXkfyqQ4BW0zK_18aSHqENhNNrosqau5CviLNTcVG3UZHuAMSTy32i1SnROky52oGwy6aCwvPvhU5nxV9g2fQrZroeHbBS/s640/IMG_4945.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss Menlove and Brother give it a try</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSE_h2KQDebhivq2VoZTSRT9PoFAI46sUNq9SixqTFWrLaa1_9MWca7EAZE_AB-owKY8kryCGtLZwgfby6JMXiz2TBKSj74Qyuq_hLK03uqfetf9tgskR4XBTtTiKcSnqtil3VceMk/s1600/IMG_4960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSE_h2KQDebhivq2VoZTSRT9PoFAI46sUNq9SixqTFWrLaa1_9MWca7EAZE_AB-owKY8kryCGtLZwgfby6JMXiz2TBKSj74Qyuq_hLK03uqfetf9tgskR4XBTtTiKcSnqtil3VceMk/s640/IMG_4960.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's all magic!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsI4DgQJi702b7FiUUS7tELf7yV3XzO8am59zQbH4IJtR-DyvsltvQb3soAUxAs1wexAQeQz_lIVd0yifVo6SJqml5Ym0kGRF-8WJ6P7NJJZ-zRE4Ivl3ZbPPEZBwyuqRxv5Gh9aQ/s1600/IMG_4962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsI4DgQJi702b7FiUUS7tELf7yV3XzO8am59zQbH4IJtR-DyvsltvQb3soAUxAs1wexAQeQz_lIVd0yifVo6SJqml5Ym0kGRF-8WJ6P7NJJZ-zRE4Ivl3ZbPPEZBwyuqRxv5Gh9aQ/s640/IMG_4962.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then came the "It's a Small World" ride. <br />
I have heard nightmare stories about this ride and jokes that seem to give an accurate description...<br />
BUT...<br />
I was so amazed and intrigued thinking of Walt Disney and all of his ideas and dreams and how he pioneered so many things, just because he dreamed and made them come true. For me, "Small World" made me feel like Walt Disney was up in heaven enjoying our complete and total excitement. Brother would get excited right along with me.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0bLtF3PSK5phd2vxTGeJzP_rUpABNFZyNZGiWjwr3AtVxQ5XygPb1s9XqPNTeLJdKbllN0aAKD_aIyfCkkvmzL7OIzflLGTyusRede3gNepZU4-9o8OUvYcqqFfMFdsREXPNyxnV/s1600/IMG_4964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0bLtF3PSK5phd2vxTGeJzP_rUpABNFZyNZGiWjwr3AtVxQ5XygPb1s9XqPNTeLJdKbllN0aAKD_aIyfCkkvmzL7OIzflLGTyusRede3gNepZU4-9o8OUvYcqqFfMFdsREXPNyxnV/s640/IMG_4964.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In true Disney fashion everything is a treat even when you are waiting in line. There were even ornate animal-shaped topiaries of which the horse was Brother's favorite of course. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_sD1lMc2lB5tH8xdm5dNRhcJPrEaYCMwp4pyuxXmmYBCqPE4dASmqSMqM1pgdR8mEixg5Bl1FYehw5AFXoFynr_dRDwICJ9pTmock4jgErihYWbCKT8YdCmusaSYqAgKgRhw7gkIz/s1600/IMG_4966.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_sD1lMc2lB5tH8xdm5dNRhcJPrEaYCMwp4pyuxXmmYBCqPE4dASmqSMqM1pgdR8mEixg5Bl1FYehw5AFXoFynr_dRDwICJ9pTmock4jgErihYWbCKT8YdCmusaSYqAgKgRhw7gkIz/s640/IMG_4966.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixloMaWRgsxu3vYtTu0mPiklf772dHlOntToLKqx9I-ASd0kf0Kn5-9v3gKk2CWNgrYCTv4fDlqB3aREDN3HPdwgPYf8DBHm2pPYvt1Sc6FJTO32ounyoQPyVYwzsUbTWt_TZ-rlNO/s1600/IMG_4967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixloMaWRgsxu3vYtTu0mPiklf772dHlOntToLKqx9I-ASd0kf0Kn5-9v3gKk2CWNgrYCTv4fDlqB3aREDN3HPdwgPYf8DBHm2pPYvt1Sc6FJTO32ounyoQPyVYwzsUbTWt_TZ-rlNO/s640/IMG_4967.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkMbIvHye4ulQ-9BR7j-8Y6XVG8z2pVINHZEA1ozo2WVuU6OJRTShtozoFxQtQXiQhNgB9mpQCQJabXyOiNrJlg5Q5Q5GcYZRrHV1kD8MxgXD2zsfZXK5BaQGE9n-YEbaxrjenqONs/s1600/IMG_4968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkMbIvHye4ulQ-9BR7j-8Y6XVG8z2pVINHZEA1ozo2WVuU6OJRTShtozoFxQtQXiQhNgB9mpQCQJabXyOiNrJlg5Q5Q5GcYZRrHV1kD8MxgXD2zsfZXK5BaQGE9n-YEbaxrjenqONs/s640/IMG_4968.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Neither of us could contain ourselves as we entered Small World. It took me back to all the Sunday nights as a kid when Disney would have their family special on TV. My whole family gathered around on those special nights each week and that is when I became so intrigued with all that Disney did. They typically started the show with a previous/re-run introduction from Walt Disney or Roy Disney or the then CEO of Disney, Michael Eisner. Oh the good old days when families gathered around a small, squared, box-like television and ate homemade goodies and air-popped popcorn while we piled on blankets in our front room. That's why Walt Disney was such an intriguing man to me; because of him I have tender memories like that and I never even had the chance to go to Disneyland. I just felt the magic at the movies! (And yes, for those of you who might ask---I watched TV in color!) </td></tr>
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After the Small World ride we headed over to the Buzz Lightyear ride. Of course we are always on the lookout for characters and Brother was not going to let this storm trooper pass without giving him a piece of his mind about "being a stinker!"<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTo3LpEPVvgMFYEFDdAVRLMy88Zz3pLSAS0Pzkr4Dg-0-NQiiy981n64APATQycWM_j9ElHL3p8sOFdeoZGX0G79F0jsOenJpA1PRhmaGoYCxTtGsWO0srpNkGzGsfEs5IBw729z3W/s1600/IMG_4972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTo3LpEPVvgMFYEFDdAVRLMy88Zz3pLSAS0Pzkr4Dg-0-NQiiy981n64APATQycWM_j9ElHL3p8sOFdeoZGX0G79F0jsOenJpA1PRhmaGoYCxTtGsWO0srpNkGzGsfEs5IBw729z3W/s640/IMG_4972.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, Brother was giving him what-for and was quite relentless as you'll see over the course of the next few pictures...</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg18pqO4_8izy7mT801belCYoR-Hc8cg5Ac_SQd2FaPWi05DsUvJM4hVZvCjUnnx0qySHxPsE8iVhJunQLqMVv1Ba54A9zXfcY8suEsuMUzPSPKVXJxr4HkZbIr3Ul7V0pOE1BMHp3x/s1600/IMG_4973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg18pqO4_8izy7mT801belCYoR-Hc8cg5Ac_SQd2FaPWi05DsUvJM4hVZvCjUnnx0qySHxPsE8iVhJunQLqMVv1Ba54A9zXfcY8suEsuMUzPSPKVXJxr4HkZbIr3Ul7V0pOE1BMHp3x/s640/IMG_4973.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-K5_qmhMS9Awl304B_5TxWoLWrPfajjM7ZYL34uMC7z7mXVIUHZarY0ycPbuH4kVP7LeEVmVXZ-pUlCYro2HR2j-W5qUg5iY2uALHpDjfUClpQRy97K1q3JJkoMg_qHfT6eEwcKpe/s1600/IMG_4974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-K5_qmhMS9Awl304B_5TxWoLWrPfajjM7ZYL34uMC7z7mXVIUHZarY0ycPbuH4kVP7LeEVmVXZ-pUlCYro2HR2j-W5qUg5iY2uALHpDjfUClpQRy97K1q3JJkoMg_qHfT6eEwcKpe/s640/IMG_4974.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51lDdMdBDgMe_wPc_DabAbHAZ93OuAe6gAxvDUD_mvR8zgLPAKyXQwzwIYmLvB7OpZTCh-Edm5ojO-FhwNM8T5_eeqMwU3xgIdKqBocunSzN3BGBuHi3bg-pyxUmWhjMFWurnUsuZ/s1600/IMG_4975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51lDdMdBDgMe_wPc_DabAbHAZ93OuAe6gAxvDUD_mvR8zgLPAKyXQwzwIYmLvB7OpZTCh-Edm5ojO-FhwNM8T5_eeqMwU3xgIdKqBocunSzN3BGBuHi3bg-pyxUmWhjMFWurnUsuZ/s640/IMG_4975.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have it on video too, but eventually we had to pull him away so as not to get too annoying. <br />
I did laugh though when the storm trooper said, "Someone needs to take care of these civilians!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSohICst_XEtPpF87FX-JbiNx0tWtyj7rfVFqGODely4G5cNSanCQ4tytzAQ0a554tEsgtuFHiguHybowoSknzpHOHn-VOMOPJcZo_v9RAiijxsRJMzB0OacWvaO1F6OG9lnQiXnCY/s1600/IMG_4977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSohICst_XEtPpF87FX-JbiNx0tWtyj7rfVFqGODely4G5cNSanCQ4tytzAQ0a554tEsgtuFHiguHybowoSknzpHOHn-VOMOPJcZo_v9RAiijxsRJMzB0OacWvaO1F6OG9lnQiXnCY/s640/IMG_4977.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They may have been in a store window, but Brother was happy to get his photo op with these two.<br />
(Side note: I'm still not sure how I feel about the whole Disney-Star Wars thing... it just doesn't seem... "Disney" to me, but I'm just a purist, I guess...)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpnchMrnSbrPKnH7Nsw2CsSmTDb7yfilgL_Lb53gtyeix7awzqwavshTUJUBzOQ77a9NQAaWWplpTQ1ANKIGxp1eZEku_2Sxqvs6xex_4bG94I0gvFMI9jkWHtJdH7qbUpMgdltgOz/s1600/IMG_4979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpnchMrnSbrPKnH7Nsw2CsSmTDb7yfilgL_Lb53gtyeix7awzqwavshTUJUBzOQ77a9NQAaWWplpTQ1ANKIGxp1eZEku_2Sxqvs6xex_4bG94I0gvFMI9jkWHtJdH7qbUpMgdltgOz/s640/IMG_4979.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our pics from the rides: Brother and Abby</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixLZpaIy2ROWnyThjj96OQle3WdySJ9oqIlL-hd7UGNJNqK4zssOD-cGUc6oEASfwPFWj17XTig8PrgFElFmOFl1nxJGbAmcaxx61CBYvYKwDhLcogeJz5SxiXclEII57nClBA7nDw/s1600/IMG_4980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixLZpaIy2ROWnyThjj96OQle3WdySJ9oqIlL-hd7UGNJNqK4zssOD-cGUc6oEASfwPFWj17XTig8PrgFElFmOFl1nxJGbAmcaxx61CBYvYKwDhLcogeJz5SxiXclEII57nClBA7nDw/s640/IMG_4980.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lone star, Miss Menlove</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMj52wCk2TtcUm7ZLfKuUnwEjLUdlaLxRF4DsfUTrzLeTMkWL50Y_CVGn6_z9zSD1GVIEBQX6wF_lhrmmisy40lMf3SE9_4E4rxC99ENMWIhMp2OyxHcQ_C4GN6U2RlZACSa9dTbJm/s1600/IMG_4981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMj52wCk2TtcUm7ZLfKuUnwEjLUdlaLxRF4DsfUTrzLeTMkWL50Y_CVGn6_z9zSD1GVIEBQX6wF_lhrmmisy40lMf3SE9_4E4rxC99ENMWIhMp2OyxHcQ_C4GN6U2RlZACSa9dTbJm/s640/IMG_4981.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Debi and me... if you've checked the scores you'll notice that me and Brother were still figuring things out...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhIqdBE0me7rzsJ50gpvRjGnRtnG2-sfPpIl4dRjyg9-cbEqx3L413XpA_pqZqX3ZAR6Nxn2mLs6p_iV4BgIhoX6TtVWVdw295UR0J0X6FTZJzftW8WCZbCrePjmLi5KSOtd5USTt/s1600/IMG_4984.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhIqdBE0me7rzsJ50gpvRjGnRtnG2-sfPpIl4dRjyg9-cbEqx3L413XpA_pqZqX3ZAR6Nxn2mLs6p_iV4BgIhoX6TtVWVdw295UR0J0X6FTZJzftW8WCZbCrePjmLi5KSOtd5USTt/s640/IMG_4984.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then the infamous Dole Whip. Honestly, I am not sure what the big deal is about getting a Dole Whip.<br />
Don't get me wrong, I L.O.V.E. Dole Whip, but I've had it all kinds of places so<br />
I wasn't sure why I had to have a Disney Dole Whip. I took the commemorative photo to document,<br />
and trust me, it was absolutely worth every penny, but the best part was about to come.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LODDSl6F6dCThIbSl0JKVQBHRYn-QG7_-kn4d900vbvSCrgLcK2Q4k8k4BTaSvb25xCBS-9RpcNT1_jqamHgNH-PynCn8K8CdXP53GlKubCvYIeW1WUWnfDz_7Km3OTInbnBhfNW/s1600/IMG_4985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LODDSl6F6dCThIbSl0JKVQBHRYn-QG7_-kn4d900vbvSCrgLcK2Q4k8k4BTaSvb25xCBS-9RpcNT1_jqamHgNH-PynCn8K8CdXP53GlKubCvYIeW1WUWnfDz_7Km3OTInbnBhfNW/s640/IMG_4985.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The TIKI Room!!! Oh my Disney fan heart was leaping out of my chest!! Walt Disney magic untouched and just like it was when he dreamed it up. The only feature at Disneyland that is still the way he created it! I was so happy and giddy like a little kid watching all that happened in the show. I loved it! Especially thinking back to when Walt actually brought this all together how incredibly magical it must have been to the people who watched it before our lives were crowded with incredible special effects at every corner. Oh, it was magical! <br />
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Brother was so happy, he never stopped grinning. He loved watching the whole room come to life piece by piece! He could hardly contain himself when the flowers started to sing!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUY3qVsbmEr06vfX2ivakyKPSmqBGvLQkOFv93CeHJeGIhM8WbGNX9lIOmZkqO2qD7_GAqpDHceJHKEB5kP88XoywWd74VMRwecfBC26qYvQSW3d5RKTvX1tg6eXDbxZyYlrw73zD/s1600/IMG_4988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUY3qVsbmEr06vfX2ivakyKPSmqBGvLQkOFv93CeHJeGIhM8WbGNX9lIOmZkqO2qD7_GAqpDHceJHKEB5kP88XoywWd74VMRwecfBC26qYvQSW3d5RKTvX1tg6eXDbxZyYlrw73zD/s640/IMG_4988.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then the highly anticipated (by me) Haunted Mansion! Here is Brother being freaked out by the mirrors in the entrance of the waiting area for the ride. He was being so brave and I was so proud of him for facing fears and enjoying the Disney Magic. His favorite part of the ride was the ghosts dancing in the ballroom. And it was, indeed, magical to watch. Brother could have sat and watch them waltz all night! I loved hearing him two seats away yelling to me everything he loved about the ride. He may have been sitting with Abby, but he was so excited to tell me everything that brought him joy... that's my reminder that I am special to him. I love those times.</td></tr>
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Then it was time for Debi and Abby to meet up with their friend for lunch so Miss Menlove and I made sure he was OK with the transition by getting some amazing Disneyland beignets. I should have gotten two bags because Brother got to enjoy most of them... we all laughed at each other with our powders sugar mustaches and sprinkled clothing!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtKT1s41rp3j0AXRzAFaKMzSubULVzD001pOI-RcceSJxQmDPka1DEbJnTTyF-1pQfHCAOnB_-cL4MNUj5QlOGtoylOtd5ckeWBZNjKWLJzZcu86v3SfNPCtpynlYGW9Gli2f1u3QA/s1600/IMG_4989.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtKT1s41rp3j0AXRzAFaKMzSubULVzD001pOI-RcceSJxQmDPka1DEbJnTTyF-1pQfHCAOnB_-cL4MNUj5QlOGtoylOtd5ckeWBZNjKWLJzZcu86v3SfNPCtpynlYGW9Gli2f1u3QA/s640/IMG_4989.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He might not look too thrilled in this picture, but it's only because he is totally into it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi09A2uW-seURRt67glHLD3u_IfG8iqjrX7ZhuZvQbSFU9XJrALi-MqwY-uITqvZ9XN1IwwfSnnFypRXK1q7h3993h41ENNRlSFQqWaqo-PaKMTAE9kVqu-iJuto4GbS42VM0hUlvBR/s1600/IMG_4991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi09A2uW-seURRt67glHLD3u_IfG8iqjrX7ZhuZvQbSFU9XJrALi-MqwY-uITqvZ9XN1IwwfSnnFypRXK1q7h3993h41ENNRlSFQqWaqo-PaKMTAE9kVqu-iJuto4GbS42VM0hUlvBR/s640/IMG_4991.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But when we got him a Mickey Mouse pretzel we couldn't get the smile off his face. It was truly one of his big highlights.</td></tr>
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The next big highlight came when we were on our way to see one of his bucket list characters, Minnie Mouse, and we noticed that Mickey's Magic Map show was about to begin.<br />
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Debi and Abby had told Miss Menlove and I that if we had time for it that Brother would LOVE this show, so we figured, "what the heck" and waited in line.<br />
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Twenty minutes later and magic was happening... with the stage, but Brother too! I'm going to have get a YouTube video up of his complete and utter happiness and excitement as each character appeared on stage, but for now you will just have to use your imagination while you look at the still pictures.<br />
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I really need to get that video done... it is pure joy! Oh and I didn't even tell you about the moment he had with Merida from Brave. He wanted so badly to meet her earlier that day when we saw her before our Small World ride, but he was too nervous to stand in line so he looked on longingly as he slowly walked by and Merida looked up from the crowd of children she had in front of her and in her awesome accent asked, "Hello boy! Have you lost your horse?" And then Brother began talking to her in his accent... which wasn't Scottish, but his British accent was fantastic and caught the attention of everyone around. We couldn't stop laughing at how adorable the whole interaction was. Brother was in heaven that he got to talk to Merida in "her own language!" But I only got the last few seconds on video and no pictures. So imagine it...</div>
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Anyway, now we're on our way to see Minnie.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5lcUhw_uo5Nxd6Y6fHY5x_SXZJZLOTHAVa55h4BZiD7CkyzApYgBtCo8OjTyg_KoPRtSW3bL7_tf5lPX5jaO14duTJlNosDvkTZRkGCS3MyQRb4eMzjzXqgWkN14UhZlPhZOxksBj/s1600/IMG_5007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5lcUhw_uo5Nxd6Y6fHY5x_SXZJZLOTHAVa55h4BZiD7CkyzApYgBtCo8OjTyg_KoPRtSW3bL7_tf5lPX5jaO14duTJlNosDvkTZRkGCS3MyQRb4eMzjzXqgWkN14UhZlPhZOxksBj/s640/IMG_5007.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is how wanted to get a photo with Goofy because he didn't want to wait to get in line...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO38-KLSs2aABvR11CZ4z7P7hfChbezCS885wPH3p3EwW-lrx5SCFzIma2NYcXjyFL9-PmsrzBXO0rMhy8bDvbhRN1Oo1f6WQ8edAZJ4EBwOetlS-OZlDfeuAtXPfBEzpbGPUunjua/s1600/IMG_5010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO38-KLSs2aABvR11CZ4z7P7hfChbezCS885wPH3p3EwW-lrx5SCFzIma2NYcXjyFL9-PmsrzBXO0rMhy8bDvbhRN1Oo1f6WQ8edAZJ4EBwOetlS-OZlDfeuAtXPfBEzpbGPUunjua/s640/IMG_5010.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He made me take this one for Sister</td></tr>
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We finally made it to Minnie's house. She was indeed there and was in her back yard taking pictures with guests under the arbor and Brother was already yelling her name and waving like Kermit the Frog to get her attention. He was so excited! I just wasn't quite sure how he'd do waiting in a line that we were told would take 35 minutes to get through to get a photo with her, but we made it... not without any hitch, at least they weren't big hitches!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8XFL_y4Gy3PoH9fenhArxL5BfHzZdUdRtpRR6bxGS48K97BcX4OxD3CJrDoBGCaCZqn1YgwMHLloh-3IkNmNlBOcSEOuKM_UiNcZLE6GIEDaw6nhCmOCU0fIrAeTSkK3gBfUDzo5n/s1600/IMG_5015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8XFL_y4Gy3PoH9fenhArxL5BfHzZdUdRtpRR6bxGS48K97BcX4OxD3CJrDoBGCaCZqn1YgwMHLloh-3IkNmNlBOcSEOuKM_UiNcZLE6GIEDaw6nhCmOCU0fIrAeTSkK3gBfUDzo5n/s640/IMG_5015.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had to take a picture of us at the doorway to Minnies house just because it was such an epic feat just getting to that point after 30 minutes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2FnyKrlbtsrDpEMxHnrHwVMhxyLHCk6c8Zc1f3eVJNz3uBfUUmAi5HWQoasgEoITy_htnrCE2Obm-gH9Hu0Z9E2-LuS7uaOdPxJqUQNnyAb4Cq4uBflLMmb4QV9vHaRT9VPeaQwa/s1600/IMG_5016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2FnyKrlbtsrDpEMxHnrHwVMhxyLHCk6c8Zc1f3eVJNz3uBfUUmAi5HWQoasgEoITy_htnrCE2Obm-gH9Hu0Z9E2-LuS7uaOdPxJqUQNnyAb4Cq4uBflLMmb4QV9vHaRT9VPeaQwa/s640/IMG_5016.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother kept himself happy and busy comparing how big he was compared to Minnie's house and her furniture</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2L0ecQvJc8Ox_Mblbj5OXd0K3keQPr0h1Ix2slgOCpcsSFwPe7ilvefG8v2XquZoOeepr2eevetiM0O1uCkJy4E9BjaBTDEoQxA0gkFeSF0-6SXSbkHhem9rqW0mSqJQ0UjAsCK-j/s1600/IMG_5023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2L0ecQvJc8Ox_Mblbj5OXd0K3keQPr0h1Ix2slgOCpcsSFwPe7ilvefG8v2XquZoOeepr2eevetiM0O1uCkJy4E9BjaBTDEoQxA0gkFeSF0-6SXSbkHhem9rqW0mSqJQ0UjAsCK-j/s640/IMG_5023.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He giggled to see that he was as tall as her doorway</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8MGxFQWsX7xtHdmfMiDCraaIXEsZoTLOsvyns1V0t3W2Yjkg4ykx4hpMUGeKYTghCCKIYJjvqlvS1lkfUL0h_aTRazIN_WpuEJGpZ6feAPqxvcyVwJPWO6Sb3RspYsCRaoCSiBWl4/s1600/IMG_5026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8MGxFQWsX7xtHdmfMiDCraaIXEsZoTLOsvyns1V0t3W2Yjkg4ykx4hpMUGeKYTghCCKIYJjvqlvS1lkfUL0h_aTRazIN_WpuEJGpZ6feAPqxvcyVwJPWO6Sb3RspYsCRaoCSiBWl4/s640/IMG_5026.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and she had a picture from one of his favorite Disney shows, Fantasia. <br />
He could't have been prouder of her choice in artwork.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikZijQrETqbFVHUjCheIYAl-lRpz-I4F5ceqQ-tDvOBNI9RFLo5E139DF7fIM6G6dcQgfiREu_GS0eW4qn7_BtzTu5P7u2PTq2mSVztfoD29KtFI1R1Ohn-6scpNBXAGlPYhC_CLd4/s1600/IMG_5027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikZijQrETqbFVHUjCheIYAl-lRpz-I4F5ceqQ-tDvOBNI9RFLo5E139DF7fIM6G6dcQgfiREu_GS0eW4qn7_BtzTu5P7u2PTq2mSVztfoD29KtFI1R1Ohn-6scpNBXAGlPYhC_CLd4/s640/IMG_5027.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He kept saying, "Oh! This is quite cute actually." It was hilarious. He loved her tiny fridge and even had to open it up to see what was inside. When he did open he matter fo factly said, "Well, she has quite the selection!" Miss Menlove and I busted up laughing but also got curious and took a look inside...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWSUfkJiURuQLjtUm60QXf-ym57mdCs9XkzKWQ1HEc5RhwQM1rDIT6jMhfeCjaYC49vqXjfipMwIhJchieZpLc11D4QbzuSVNBftGB-mSw3_htZz5pO-49TDMW6c1w2awWxC2hCmAU/s1600/IMG_5032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWSUfkJiURuQLjtUm60QXf-ym57mdCs9XkzKWQ1HEc5RhwQM1rDIT6jMhfeCjaYC49vqXjfipMwIhJchieZpLc11D4QbzuSVNBftGB-mSw3_htZz5pO-49TDMW6c1w2awWxC2hCmAU/s640/IMG_5032.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was right, there was quite the selection... of cheeses!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnJoTV4cU0xq3eFcx1eZCi14QgKHAXIvWMg7vx-9bRSXDA83L9Rtxo3IdjmsroYE5n935tYMM2ao60E4OtgN0EDIYvmdQP7gWs1ox0sW_cc2fwxHYQcM8GGCA6wju6q1Ha1eCy_jJ_/s1600/IMG_5033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnJoTV4cU0xq3eFcx1eZCi14QgKHAXIvWMg7vx-9bRSXDA83L9Rtxo3IdjmsroYE5n935tYMM2ao60E4OtgN0EDIYvmdQP7gWs1ox0sW_cc2fwxHYQcM8GGCA6wju6q1Ha1eCy_jJ_/s640/IMG_5033.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He entertained himself in the kitchen a few more minutes before it was his chance to get a photo with Minnie</td></tr>
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Then it finally came time for Brother to get a photo with Minnie! I'll just say that he was hesitant at first and then he just "warmed" right up! Miss Menlove was a big help with that!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgs7gZ0eD2AWJE9mjCIxMPBkkL9uVeeM3n36QDxuAY48MFKIe-hahKA3vHqp55gj8qAWWxgt3PXvNHyxtcfuDczNIIkknlg-QyU1cUl7tlfc-2ruylTXnOveEFQOKRcX0OrjDgKwN/s1600/IMG_5042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSgs7gZ0eD2AWJE9mjCIxMPBkkL9uVeeM3n36QDxuAY48MFKIe-hahKA3vHqp55gj8qAWWxgt3PXvNHyxtcfuDczNIIkknlg-QyU1cUl7tlfc-2ruylTXnOveEFQOKRcX0OrjDgKwN/s640/IMG_5042.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look how tight he has his arms around Minnie's waist! He was hugging her tight.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW267VRzlZp1Oci2fA7Gz3eEWX5tPBYO2ns1Tr8L0W35WZGRhG_n4MQbauDGybQ_4ZjG3ST7BUrnpskEM5caQVSib_DY_3gjWceEY7Oam73LsGMp6Y_jtk699-ZDWs8DrDONvAeNdL/s1600/IMG_5043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW267VRzlZp1Oci2fA7Gz3eEWX5tPBYO2ns1Tr8L0W35WZGRhG_n4MQbauDGybQ_4ZjG3ST7BUrnpskEM5caQVSib_DY_3gjWceEY7Oam73LsGMp6Y_jtk699-ZDWs8DrDONvAeNdL/s640/IMG_5043.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He told her he loved her and she kissed him. This is the shot milli-seconds after that because I didn't have my camera up and ready. He kept saying, "She bumped me with her nose!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNmUJh5bMbdJ4WsCGchNhh9jhhbPaQIYzDduj2JAjAAl2CwKY8koiVBYK7Go2obdFOQGx_1YozutbEYf2PHkcTLJOX7lRQW7crr2S94SzoxotUnlTDEx8L0YWrtmxwOfgfLGaGmtu/s1600/IMG_5054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNmUJh5bMbdJ4WsCGchNhh9jhhbPaQIYzDduj2JAjAAl2CwKY8koiVBYK7Go2obdFOQGx_1YozutbEYf2PHkcTLJOX7lRQW7crr2S94SzoxotUnlTDEx8L0YWrtmxwOfgfLGaGmtu/s640/IMG_5054.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After he was done I snuck in a selfie of my own...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenzUcNeqkOro5iUUlLj4pkUXfSepmFf7NCH3FFo0dSl2NAhNzVoz-jcj8vrfBTFAhRaWP59mtPJBcjMgMVBwlmqFSxoavgn7VBK5A7ywcCK-Q2dM8Nn-CVFGAObf4zoofGaUx4Ncf/s1600/IMG_5055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenzUcNeqkOro5iUUlLj4pkUXfSepmFf7NCH3FFo0dSl2NAhNzVoz-jcj8vrfBTFAhRaWP59mtPJBcjMgMVBwlmqFSxoavgn7VBK5A7ywcCK-Q2dM8Nn-CVFGAObf4zoofGaUx4Ncf/s640/IMG_5055.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were starting to leave, but he just couldn't say goodbye so he lingered on to tell her he loved her</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4J2TzDza7swgWK1-8XD_u_Gr6PxHYW9RlHCYHPW6ezytfrxeTuC7reWnjjObjD1EAkvhalQQlu2P2Cim0FdsN-Ex8qHfXQQ_dxoXa2EHddAKLbCwaLyVeGfUwtREqx-v3Pz9Ji5Bh/s1600/IMG_5057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4J2TzDza7swgWK1-8XD_u_Gr6PxHYW9RlHCYHPW6ezytfrxeTuC7reWnjjObjD1EAkvhalQQlu2P2Cim0FdsN-Ex8qHfXQQ_dxoXa2EHddAKLbCwaLyVeGfUwtREqx-v3Pz9Ji5Bh/s640/IMG_5057.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Minnie responded by drawing a heart in the air and then pointing to him. He could hardly handle it, he was so ecstatic!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfBQ-_v88_4TrvWmH6Is8qC5e2qz0o9s7-GuP7i8UR6IcHS9i9rO8GoAcRJc-9bc5SSgWP9mSm2H8X2mySsT9OfBJLj60c_2Mzfi4iB1HZ16ohajtohDf2kq8CuwQmtukClHAA6TN/s1600/IMG_5062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfBQ-_v88_4TrvWmH6Is8qC5e2qz0o9s7-GuP7i8UR6IcHS9i9rO8GoAcRJc-9bc5SSgWP9mSm2H8X2mySsT9OfBJLj60c_2Mzfi4iB1HZ16ohajtohDf2kq8CuwQmtukClHAA6TN/s640/IMG_5062.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then she "fainted" because she was so smitten by him. (We couldn't stop laughing with pure joy!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKKRpoIdJxeJdAumhC_ISt-TtgmiPF57Zg8l3vZ8cJ7bPFOjYE3l-zZgEZcedLzLXgw3GwrXfu-gjplDG4TDF4mWirjRbdP50X_7sRm9ZnallhWxAAkBjLP_c4rp4v4-3MrAUHN9SK/s1600/IMG_5065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKKRpoIdJxeJdAumhC_ISt-TtgmiPF57Zg8l3vZ8cJ7bPFOjYE3l-zZgEZcedLzLXgw3GwrXfu-gjplDG4TDF4mWirjRbdP50X_7sRm9ZnallhWxAAkBjLP_c4rp4v4-3MrAUHN9SK/s640/IMG_5065.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here she is sending love to me. She gave me many hugs and seemed so genuinely grateful that we were there.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgj-nS02CM6bK_Rg7QKEftVAql_HYm6dFv1y62bZsS-G8sDOuhgV4thOdOStNCrEafTucklVDsuy979hyphenhyphen6Z_MBfzuVpV9-UmggXPDbx_Ox8gSKHk94bH7mHvqxK6q-RceeQx1zvkVe/s1600/IMG_5070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgj-nS02CM6bK_Rg7QKEftVAql_HYm6dFv1y62bZsS-G8sDOuhgV4thOdOStNCrEafTucklVDsuy979hyphenhyphen6Z_MBfzuVpV9-UmggXPDbx_Ox8gSKHk94bH7mHvqxK6q-RceeQx1zvkVe/s640/IMG_5070.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His final "I love you's"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixOA7o7fQ4dWD77nGx1eHICtRLyOmVY7G-aEJHjF2NfYb8Of4HC1Dljm18fwYivlUtbNN6N7gVCodI-8sbfxpbPTJDDD0YY0X_GAZduLkjXa3d9RSnhrFc_xRuTkNwwOX2KNm3IjOQ/s1600/IMG_5071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixOA7o7fQ4dWD77nGx1eHICtRLyOmVY7G-aEJHjF2NfYb8Of4HC1Dljm18fwYivlUtbNN6N7gVCodI-8sbfxpbPTJDDD0YY0X_GAZduLkjXa3d9RSnhrFc_xRuTkNwwOX2KNm3IjOQ/s640/IMG_5071.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I warned him not to bump his head on Chip and Dale's doorway, but it did no good...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwp-ZxlrveactDTUnPDfTcUXawhJNcKX-O1WwrZqFv9_rc6LRgPGqJsRmCNdE-zDCpMGUfJliTF_Ox1xxRyR4q3VxC8kv2ql6ImlS0HWa0R34jtvbqwtXHma1_Qpu7p7GrhNsZS8jT/s1600/IMG_5077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwp-ZxlrveactDTUnPDfTcUXawhJNcKX-O1WwrZqFv9_rc6LRgPGqJsRmCNdE-zDCpMGUfJliTF_Ox1xxRyR4q3VxC8kv2ql6ImlS0HWa0R34jtvbqwtXHma1_Qpu7p7GrhNsZS8jT/s640/IMG_5077.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss Menlove and Brother enjoying the tree house from the top</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyAoFgX_w75k9ZwDfooVcpptz9SI6ggpf7EFo5c8uqV-48SMmfMxwQgQVMpnA4bc0lpVsCr5hX8OsIot33UWdVwkzSfA3e7Wc5D5p9YLtOzaIQHE9ZhXTwn2Y_LlH5wSUTxF2SeYq/s1600/IMG_5082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyAoFgX_w75k9ZwDfooVcpptz9SI6ggpf7EFo5c8uqV-48SMmfMxwQgQVMpnA4bc0lpVsCr5hX8OsIot33UWdVwkzSfA3e7Wc5D5p9YLtOzaIQHE9ZhXTwn2Y_LlH5wSUTxF2SeYq/s640/IMG_5082.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of us squished in their tree house</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSIuesOTOIRsQfjT8XRTyDwtnB4x5d3blPGPMBvOXDQ0yQBMPy9Jqyza6r-Tilw2Ilm86t4tp-5a2nOEt0zliixGtgu9iNjSjJxvvm2xSD-GXlYmLqyUIt7OxHWRevYaNm7Uco5b4Q/s1600/IMG_5083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSIuesOTOIRsQfjT8XRTyDwtnB4x5d3blPGPMBvOXDQ0yQBMPy9Jqyza6r-Tilw2Ilm86t4tp-5a2nOEt0zliixGtgu9iNjSjJxvvm2xSD-GXlYmLqyUIt7OxHWRevYaNm7Uco5b4Q/s640/IMG_5083.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then we stopped for a late lunch and I got myself the infamous Disneyland corn dog!<br />
And I must say it totally lived up to the hype. Sorry mom, but it was even better than yours...<br />
really I'm sorry... I should have just lied to you and not even brought it up at all...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQwp7ae_dy8GNe4M3JV3NlTyDbfS2_hiiGl-d2TEWqrex1SImPpUihGdH42Fsy4UHxhjmIDq1MTDdA3KJNI4QSJgjU-R25qWTMx56MsFHmsMfsatawrJoXJRIOYSo3qlM6Ypvk4eC/s1600/IMG_5087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQwp7ae_dy8GNe4M3JV3NlTyDbfS2_hiiGl-d2TEWqrex1SImPpUihGdH42Fsy4UHxhjmIDq1MTDdA3KJNI4QSJgjU-R25qWTMx56MsFHmsMfsatawrJoXJRIOYSo3qlM6Ypvk4eC/s640/IMG_5087.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course I was excited to get another picture with Walt!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzW0RuhS_jDEsNGinMlMp4QbXecXUbHnKX0Gqn6wYGGPJFyBmBgZjOFKbTBS6N2eZUcOYpNKGziRTCjWgP2hRXQ8oKEj8hpwr7Bx7epI1JxKS8g07yQ6UhyphenhyphenlwIimbVU1CWeFEdQwO/s1600/IMG_5088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzW0RuhS_jDEsNGinMlMp4QbXecXUbHnKX0Gqn6wYGGPJFyBmBgZjOFKbTBS6N2eZUcOYpNKGziRTCjWgP2hRXQ8oKEj8hpwr7Bx7epI1JxKS8g07yQ6UhyphenhyphenlwIimbVU1CWeFEdQwO/s640/IMG_5088.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then to my surprise along comes a bus and the newsies hop off and start performing! I was so excited!<br />
I felt like I was in Disneyland!!! ... Oh. Wait. Ha! I was!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Then Brother excitedly interrupted my delight over Newsies pointing in the opposite direction and started squealing about Daisy and Donald Duck and "we need to do this for Sister!" determination. We all looked where he was pointing and then all of sudden we realized that the characters had just arrived and we had the chance to get right in the line that was already starting.<br />
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Brother couldn't contain his excitement as we made our approach to Daisy and Donald. I had to keep trying to calm him down a little so that he wouldn't scare any of the other guests from the line to much.<br />
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Daisy was his other bucket list character.<br />
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Once we got to her Brother jumped in and gave Daisy such a big hug that he lifted Daisy right of the ground! We couldn't believe it. The handlers there with the characters didn't know what to do either until Abby let them know his situation and that he meant no harm.<br />
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<br />
Well, lifting up Daisy didn't make Donald too happy and he was ready to fight Brother for her... Brother was so sassy and was not going to let Donald get the best of him!<br />
Daisy chose brother in the end for our group photo... poor Donald.<br />
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Then with adrenaline still rushing we were on to new adventures.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuF6S68sCRDxW_OU72AcfDhO0ydMl9YNmhRLd4XOPkuK_FUTYMtIyBg5M7xsZHIhvwgOpUSjO9vUk5pZcwb9PJOJ4TD5gdxzE4sOzRlR31xKeV-O-AUxR8gXcYlsYEYNYBjU-2vgh/s1600/IMG_5109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuF6S68sCRDxW_OU72AcfDhO0ydMl9YNmhRLd4XOPkuK_FUTYMtIyBg5M7xsZHIhvwgOpUSjO9vUk5pZcwb9PJOJ4TD5gdxzE4sOzRlR31xKeV-O-AUxR8gXcYlsYEYNYBjU-2vgh/s640/IMG_5109.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was very excited to see Malifacent even if she was only 5 inches tall</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKnzJJqQrzyDWH8yoYmSknA2Svjw6GBx06bUlR95FXX9dqCh92jnQXNayKWvjXf6Jl62upfwpUYl6-FzLwT5_54B8K4sVMYqmIszgv2JLWSXsHly4iNKmshGeTa0IHgVKeyOqkVDE/s1600/IMG_5110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKnzJJqQrzyDWH8yoYmSknA2Svjw6GBx06bUlR95FXX9dqCh92jnQXNayKWvjXf6Jl62upfwpUYl6-FzLwT5_54B8K4sVMYqmIszgv2JLWSXsHly4iNKmshGeTa0IHgVKeyOqkVDE/s640/IMG_5110.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then he saw Mulan on the wall and had to get a picture with her too...<br />
I think he was just happy to not have to wait in line for photos.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6dERLoyUImPPuoeXkdYGe3sT6tdtda1WVWbleRXKcY2epjd8Yud6L8Iab88RCivLD7KL8Ta5UgKUtCU2rZQZDkbbv0yDaMvKw0MMaNw17ZZRbvpw-XFiVH1P9cVp2NFk70D2Mly8Z/s1600/IMG_5118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6dERLoyUImPPuoeXkdYGe3sT6tdtda1WVWbleRXKcY2epjd8Yud6L8Iab88RCivLD7KL8Ta5UgKUtCU2rZQZDkbbv0yDaMvKw0MMaNw17ZZRbvpw-XFiVH1P9cVp2NFk70D2Mly8Z/s640/IMG_5118.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother didn't care for Gru much at all... especially since he hadn't been able to go on the ride two nights before due to his fears... but after seeing him he started conversation with Abby about how this time he was going to do it. <br />
(More on that later)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We then were off to Cars Land. I think it was about 4 or 5 when we got there and we actually got on the ride just a hair after sunset... Wow!!! That was a LOOONG line. In fact, it was so long that I was able to witness several things of interest... One was a father and his son weaving past us in line with an empty soda bottle to which I was thinking what a good example he was of putting litter in a waste basket and not just leaving it on the ground. Then my opinion changed when the same two males weaved back through, but this time the soda bottle was full to the top with yellow liquid... um... now I was thinking that bathrooms would have been a good thing to have along the lines to these rides... and why was he walking back with it... was there no trash can a long the way? Ick. I don't want to know. I also learned that Brighton is totally capable of waiting in long lines as long as his "friends" are with him. I was seeing him do many things that I hadn't seen him do before and I was so proud of him and also slightly jealous that it wasn't me who motivated him.<br />
<br />
The Cars ride was amazing and I loved every minute of it... even the parts where I felt a tad queasy. When we got off the ride we had many people comment on how much fun we were to watch...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPubOpY1bGa5AwPePfx601xj6OHJKTV39Dt38LvGCxQ1_8uNcYZBObgrGKzpkW6hpd4ykoK51bVHyPwbqePIL4tkIgT7hrpxmW0TaKOsaxiln0E3N9n4_JyycOSod6WGuEygezRcwH/s1600/IMG_5133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPubOpY1bGa5AwPePfx601xj6OHJKTV39Dt38LvGCxQ1_8uNcYZBObgrGKzpkW6hpd4ykoK51bVHyPwbqePIL4tkIgT7hrpxmW0TaKOsaxiln0E3N9n4_JyycOSod6WGuEygezRcwH/s640/IMG_5133.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pure fear on mine and Brother's faces</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Lightening McQueen was out and about so Brother had to get a cameo with him.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8dyqveYo-DPIX38UBTgKUX-gBPIBbDPwvfe20tdm6KkBhOjXrteFNcMHJ3BdNABmc1_dccrOq28oSDW5vJZS_vMhWx_QkeM45Tm05ImHkHH1Mbgw2Wtd9l130PEJ95eAvPC_40Xx9/s1600/IMG_5141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8dyqveYo-DPIX38UBTgKUX-gBPIBbDPwvfe20tdm6KkBhOjXrteFNcMHJ3BdNABmc1_dccrOq28oSDW5vJZS_vMhWx_QkeM45Tm05ImHkHH1Mbgw2Wtd9l130PEJ95eAvPC_40Xx9/s640/IMG_5141.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
Then we went to Belle's Library which, if you ever go to Disneyland that is a place you should go. It seems to be a bit undiscovered, but was such a gem of a place. Brighton loved this storybook where Lumiere would tell you what Disney character you would be!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0CqfOCYfrMs7SV3i6u6Dyuatw66JI3Chzff7roJaVxlkGqm0C9BFuNlEftnufFCoFxcm7FH_wWvF3h4zDzqE6Xkn8gCcaRYal2a46kCVEQtT6RK4aS9ETl5lGQ6EKbYuuwlzS98l/s1600/IMG_5149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0CqfOCYfrMs7SV3i6u6Dyuatw66JI3Chzff7roJaVxlkGqm0C9BFuNlEftnufFCoFxcm7FH_wWvF3h4zDzqE6Xkn8gCcaRYal2a46kCVEQtT6RK4aS9ETl5lGQ6EKbYuuwlzS98l/s640/IMG_5149.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioFDr42pEqqGq-9g-1bjPtOfBe0_fe3zzyMVp2gaTBTuVQ0c6ZU_2n6Si9wgtyx7bOCBiY1GZzT1yk61k5bmxSrdab5xLOl4xkmLbIZPsRPxYPNrC1eKj0ssHyaxknhdC45o50t-iF/s1600/IMG_5150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioFDr42pEqqGq-9g-1bjPtOfBe0_fe3zzyMVp2gaTBTuVQ0c6ZU_2n6Si9wgtyx7bOCBiY1GZzT1yk61k5bmxSrdab5xLOl4xkmLbIZPsRPxYPNrC1eKj0ssHyaxknhdC45o50t-iF/s640/IMG_5150.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgliljzvnmqfKRieiMFCXswqmAVxQDfp1YXJViofQCUZZapN4YYwrB4Of-zFLpzl1WpcnTq0kEpPHpEaXMbjoiNKayrJp7dcSPCTNLIzNaJ_Q1sZXi2w9x9Nq3dUwtvAsCybFDd7Scz/s1600/IMG_5152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgliljzvnmqfKRieiMFCXswqmAVxQDfp1YXJViofQCUZZapN4YYwrB4Of-zFLpzl1WpcnTq0kEpPHpEaXMbjoiNKayrJp7dcSPCTNLIzNaJ_Q1sZXi2w9x9Nq3dUwtvAsCybFDd7Scz/s640/IMG_5152.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyjr5NgZYNefP_hsXmMcElc-NA8ADbXumt_0e0oLD45oHZwmdG_Ch_6nx0qG4rnKwcy8yZ8Jnd2THlU3xuYKQ25OVF2_pUULN38kCKWXIihvAdUHgCJ_Gv7HPc0S-674-B1J_LbiD/s1600/IMG_5154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyjr5NgZYNefP_hsXmMcElc-NA8ADbXumt_0e0oLD45oHZwmdG_Ch_6nx0qG4rnKwcy8yZ8Jnd2THlU3xuYKQ25OVF2_pUULN38kCKWXIihvAdUHgCJ_Gv7HPc0S-674-B1J_LbiD/s640/IMG_5154.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ha! Hook! He was slightly disappointed. I got Alice in Wonderland... which I would never have guessed... but, hey, I never though of Brother as a nasty pirate either!</td></tr>
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A few years ago I had the amazing opportunity to be in a play at the SCERA Shell, Mary Poppins. I met many dear friends while in that play and one of them as Disney Dreamer and Artist, Hayden. He works at Disneyland as the skipper on the Jungle Cruise. I had arranged with him to be there when he was working so that we could enjoy his tour and give him big hugs.<br />
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We felt like movie stars as they led us through the back way to avoid the line and get right on to Hayden's boat where he was waiting for us. It was crazy to boot, when another fellow cast member from Mary Poppins was just getting off the ride with Hayden! How cool was that to be surprised by him too... although, I have to admit a funny misunderstanding. Earlier that day I had sent a text to Hayden asking him if he knew if Hercules would be anywhere in the park because Brother wanted to meet him. He replied that he didn't know if Hercules was even in the park at all anymore, but then quickly responded with, "I have word that Woody will be at the park today." I was like, "oh cool, not exactly Hercules, but we love 'Toy Story' ... " Brother doesn't have him on the list of Disney characters to meet, but I'm sure he'll still be happy to see him. I kept an eye out for Woody at the park, but never did see him. It wasn't until I ran into our fellow castmate named Woody that I finally realized what Hayden had meant. Ha ha ha ha!!<br />
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The ride was amazing and Brother was enthralled with the whole thing, but was especially impressed with Hayden's humor and charm while giving us the jungle tour! Brother couldn't stop smiling. Literally. He still smiles when you bring up Hayden and says, "He's such a good guy!"<br />
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A big thanks to Hayden for helping end our amazing day at Disneyland on a high note. I have no idea, and really highly doubt that you'd get a raise because some random blog mom of kids with Fragile X Syndrome sang your praises, but I'll say it anyway, just in case (wink).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZO1SSPiwjAvG7EL3Nm1NhHBvfl10zDwst2qFUGmaRYyShUfenR9kpsEZHIfXF6Q-jaZyDH21n4HtgD-eOq0WmWmWFzGbPGkrwEyNM-R5e903Q1c5sGb1Bkw9ROIcETmdmvmEEtlSi/s1600/IMG_5156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZO1SSPiwjAvG7EL3Nm1NhHBvfl10zDwst2qFUGmaRYyShUfenR9kpsEZHIfXF6Q-jaZyDH21n4HtgD-eOq0WmWmWFzGbPGkrwEyNM-R5e903Q1c5sGb1Bkw9ROIcETmdmvmEEtlSi/s640/IMG_5156.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq0Ox_7WHH8kOLOWc19H1ruyXU26MBer3-InVhzNvFJtq-bQ_mFP4e4e_sf6dUTCObst4dT7aJsj1iqUNhVDDMjWCG1ru8q7X_oa9v4jqZKI2KOqsppDHft7jU1IGIwxfoLoQxNFGD/s1600/IMG_5158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq0Ox_7WHH8kOLOWc19H1ruyXU26MBer3-InVhzNvFJtq-bQ_mFP4e4e_sf6dUTCObst4dT7aJsj1iqUNhVDDMjWCG1ru8q7X_oa9v4jqZKI2KOqsppDHft7jU1IGIwxfoLoQxNFGD/s640/IMG_5158.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We couldn't stop smiling because we were so happy to see each other, but we also couldn't stop laughing at Brother's excitement and humorous comments.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrB1mDnDnwP-eMmMGudjPXSHHgFH88FxugqqZhmAm-BV0-6nlp_Iy4zsDWx5IxtD8bSP_TZhTgwtSY5OuA3T4o_hRwuFzkj5CXGH8c5axHY0ohWVVRJFWbmMOkJISFHauSxTroZdVv/s1600/IMG_5159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrB1mDnDnwP-eMmMGudjPXSHHgFH88FxugqqZhmAm-BV0-6nlp_Iy4zsDWx5IxtD8bSP_TZhTgwtSY5OuA3T4o_hRwuFzkj5CXGH8c5axHY0ohWVVRJFWbmMOkJISFHauSxTroZdVv/s640/IMG_5159.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXu4uelhYDr0Of_1x3XTPTCaGh884rcJlSWIK4x9xHF2V_cPaEcIFf6UMtXcldLD9pLTe8lzOL3unhZIenyQdIZ_o4rc5Qk9qeyxzAAKsNTUCPng9BwlCED7_GNslRyDt8-K_YnCSb/s1600/IMG_5161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXu4uelhYDr0Of_1x3XTPTCaGh884rcJlSWIK4x9xHF2V_cPaEcIFf6UMtXcldLD9pLTe8lzOL3unhZIenyQdIZ_o4rc5Qk9qeyxzAAKsNTUCPng9BwlCED7_GNslRyDt8-K_YnCSb/s640/IMG_5161.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were probably about 10 more of these... your welcome... I picked the 3 best</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother's last photo op with the Disneyland Castle.</td></tr>
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<div>
I seriously thought this was our goodby to Disneyland, but I was quickly informed that Brother and Abby were excited to take their moms (Debi and me) on the Guardians of the Galaxy ride! Well, this was a surprise to me... did everyone remember the sheer panic attack he had just walking up to the entrance of the ride? The one we didn't go on because I was calming him down outside the ride, confirming it was OK...</div>
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I admired Brother's determination to go on the ride that everyone else had and wanted to conquer his fear. I knew there was no way I was going to go on it, so I obliged to go knowing that Brother would back out and I would just go with him...</div>
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I never learn.</div>
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<div>
Long story short we get through the line to get to the beginning of the other wait in line and Brother has already been sweating with cold, clammy hands since the movie screens where he had bailed out before. He was continually saying out loud to me, "I can do this. This isn't scary. I'm so brave."</div>
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There were a few pre-show things that made him laugh and helped him forget how scared he was, but then we came to the stairs.</div>
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There were a lot of stairs.</div>
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It was very dark and very industrial looking with lots of noise and sparks as if we were underneath a space ship that was being repaired.</div>
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Brother, Abby, Debi and I were continuously reassuring Brother that he was brave.</div>
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But after seeing him shake and his face going pale I was really concerned about him and could see that he was not going to back down no matter how scared he was.</div>
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I was in awe at his resolve to do this just because he wanted to conquer his fear and be like his friends, but I was also holding back tears watching his body literally try to stop his mind from his goal.</div>
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I didn't know what to do. I had learned yesterday that Brother does not do well with my authority and that me telling him to not go and that I would leave with him would actually make things worse and may put us in danger on these multiple stairways to the entry of the ride. I kept saying, "You are so brave to have even come to this point, you really don't have to do this, you're already so brave." I was screaming in my mind that he just had to turn around, but on the outside I was calmly allowing him to make his own choice.</div>
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<div>
We came to the platform to enter the pod of the ship (ride) and Brother's chin began to shake and chatter. He could hardly get the phrase out, "I'm so brave," because of the shaking his nerves were debuting. Sweat was glistening on his brow with every blink of the red light from the ship's hull and he couldn't hold on to anything because his hands were drenched in fear.</div>
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I was doing everything I could think of to make it his idea to leave and not go on the ride and to say that what he had done was completely enough.</div>
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I was now starting to panic. I'd never seen Brother quite this way, this scared and yet, this determined. I didn't know what to do. I honestly pictured in my mind the worst scenarios like him fainting on the ride or worse even lashing out and hurting himself or someone else because he might go into complete hysteria all while being enclosed in this small space.</div>
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My tears were coming. My breath was quickening. I was getting myself physically ready to carry Brother from the ride to save him from his fear and anxiety.</div>
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"I can't. I just can't do this. I thought I could, but I just can't. I'm sorry, I just can't do this. Brother, will you come with me? I don't want to leave on my own. Will you help me get back safely?"</div>
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<div>
Those words were as if they were spoken by an angel. Brother's face immediately flushed back color and his chin was down to a slight wavering, "Well of course Miss Debi!" he exclaimed with complete confidence knowing that he would do anything for his coach.</div>
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I looked at Debi and we gave each other that "mom" exchange and I knew that she knew what I was dealing with and that it couldn't be me to say, "no."</div>
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She had given up her time with her daughter to help Brother stay safe and give me peace in my heart.</div>
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I watched the angel and Brother leave for the safety of the outside world and sighed in relief.</div>
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<div>
I turned and looked at Abby and it dawned on me then, "Wait!! Wait!! I didn't want to go on this ride in the first place. I was only going to help with Brother." Now it was just me. I was the only mom there and I didn't want to leave Abby alone when her own mother had just made a sacrifice to help me. If Debi can do hard things like sacrificing her time with her own daughter for my son, then I would do the same.</div>
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The doors opened and we walked in.</div>
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I had no idea what I was in for.</div>
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Extreme ups and downs that made me cry out in complete and total fear. I was freaking out! I think it took me a good 3 hours to calm my nerves after I got off that ride.</div>
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I was glad that I was able to make it more enjoyable for everyone else in my pod. While I was screaming my head off and begging the higher ups to make it end, they were all having a great laugh!</div>
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<div>
When we came out the exit doors, there were Brother and Debi filling us with compliments of how brave we were. Brother was so proud of me... and himself. His jacket and shirt were still damp from his panic sweating, but his color was back, the glisten on his brow was gone, and his real smile was making his eyes smile.</div>
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Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-56048358909694267272018-03-22T17:25:00.002-06:002018-03-22T19:03:14.077-06:00I don't know... Nope. Definitely not. Did not see that one coming... (Day 2)"You're going the wrong way, mom!!!!"<br />
<br />
"That's the wrong way!! No, Mom! The wrong way!"<br />
<br />
Dream sequence fog glitters in and out...<br />
<br />
Practice for the Cheer Competition was Friday morning.<br />
<br />
Brother and I had talked about it several times; me asking if he wanted to go support the girls and him giving a bashful "no" or a shy "I don't know."<br />
<br />
"I don't know."<br />
<br />
That phrase should have been my cue.<br />
<br />
But, I wasn't really sure if he should go either so I really took his "I don't know" as just that... that he wasn't sure either.<br />
<br />
Usually, well, mostly, OK... 98 percent of the time when Brother says, "I don't know," it means "yes."<br />
<br />
This took many, many trials of seeing him fall apart for me to realize that "I don't know" was actually his way of saying "yes" when he felt pressure to have an answer but wasn't sure if "yes" was going to be taken positively so saying, "I don't know," left room for him to excuse himself from any embarrassment of being told, "no."<br />
<br />
Here's an example in case none of that paragraph made sense.<br />
<br />
<br />
Me: Do you want to got bowling with Lauren?<br />
<br />
Brother: I don't know.<br />
<br />
Me: OK, that's great because she'll be here in 15 minutes.<br />
<br />
<br />
Brother says, "I don't know," because that way if my answer was, "Well, I'm sorry, but you can't got bowling with her today," he can more easily dismiss his embarrassment to the opposite reaction he was hoping for.<br />
<br />
So, keeping that translation in mind you can decipher what was really being said when we discussed Brother going to practice with the girls to get ready for competition on Friday morning...<br />
<br />
<br />
Me: Brother, you understand that you are here to support your cheer team for their competition, right.<br />
<br />
Brother: Ya.<br />
<br />
Me: Would you still like to go watch them practice and show support?<br />
<br />
Brother: I don't know.<br />
<br />
Me: They'll be meeting in the morning to walk over together. Should we go with them?<br />
<br />
Brother: I don't know.<br />
<br />
<br />
Well, I try really hard to be the best judge I can in all circumstances with our kids and even though I have been doing this for 18 years I still make mistakes all the time.<br />
<br />
Welcome to motherhood.<br />
<br />
After seeing how long it took for him to calm down from the day at Disneyland and considering how late he finally fell asleep, I didn't have the heart to stir him from his snoring/drooling/floppy-faced slumber when I woke for breakfast that morning. I thought he really needed his rest. So, I took a risk and left him alone sleeping in the room while I went downstairs to bring up a plate of breakfast for him and me. I had gotten there so close to the end of breakfast time that there wasn't much to choose from, but it helped make the selection quicker so I could run back to our room.<br />
<br />
He was still snoring and drooling with his arm dangling lifelessly from the edge of the bed, which was a relief that all was still as I had left it. I tried several times to wake him gently, but it finally took physically flipping him over to get him to stir.<br />
<br />
He was happy with the bacon I had scavenged for him from what remained at the bottom of the serving tray and the hash browns too.<br />
<br />
Again, about 30 minutes before the team was going to be gathering for their walk to practice, I asked Brother if he wanted to go support his team at practice, but this time I threw in, "or do you want to just sit here and watch Disney channel?"<br />
<br />
The Disney Channel.<br />
<br />
Also known as the nail in my coffin.<br />
<br />
Practice was at 10:30 am and everyone was going to be meeting up for a team lunch at 2:00.<br />
<br />
I figured I'd give ourselves plenty of time to make the 10 minute walk to the restaurant in case he wanted to stop and check anything out along the way or whatever... Honestly I was just so happy with how well he had done the day before that I was totally looking forward to spending time with just him. Marc or I don't ever get one on one time with Brother because... well... we're mom and dad... we don't fit in his category of "friends." Mom and Dad are just that, mom and dad. We are his home base, his comfort zone, his go-to when times are rough, his meal ticket, his life support, his home. So this opportunity to be with him on this walk one-on-one was a treat for me and I was excited about the possible bonding that might happen on this short walk to lunch.<br />
<br />
So at 1:00 Brother and I were ready to walk over to meet up with the team for lunch. We would be walking the point six mile stretch to the entrance of Disneyland and then down the main street between the parks to get to the restaurant we were to meet at.<br />
<br />
I should have been ready for the catastrophe that was about to ensue when once we got to the hotel lobby Brother began looking around and asking where his friends were.<br />
<br />
"They went to practice earlier. Remember?" I stated cautiously.<br />
<br />
He looked slightly disgusted by this announcement and frustrated with me for not meeting with everyone in the lobby to walk together.<br />
<br />
When we exited the front doors, I sensed his panic heighten. We were no more than eight feet from the entry when he yelled, "Judy's little girl!" but this time it was not followed by a giggle or half smile. He was mad.<br />
<br />
I had my maps on so that I would know how to get to the rendezvous point and saw another route that might be a little faster so I hesitantly turned right and walked a few feet and realized that this plan would not work and that we would need to take the same route we had the day before, you know, for routine's sake.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if I had continued to go right and just bluffed my through that it would have changed the course of what was about to ensue, but I chose to go to the left as we had done the first day.<br />
<br />
"You're going the wrong way, mom!!!! That's the wrong way!! No, Mom! The wrong way!"<br />
<br />
I'm starting to see my mistake and understanding that we should have gone to the practice that morning, but it was too late now and all I could do was let his anxiety yell at me until it would calm enough to walk in the direction I was suggesting—left.<br />
<br />
I saw a young family walk past us in a rush as they could see that Brother was about to lose his top and his long arms flailing at me and his strong cheering voice yelling at me was giving all the passersby no inclination that he was having a good time.<br />
<br />
Then he bolted.<br />
<br />
Unexpectedly.<br />
<br />
I did not see that one coming.<br />
<br />
He runs a little like a puppet controlled by strings that are too long for full control and yet it is truly amazing at how fast he can move!<br />
<br />
Especially when it is looking like he has no intention of stopping at the crossway of heavy traffic!<br />
<br />
I panicked.<br />
<br />
The over-the-top-mother came out in my head and I was picturing him running aimlessly into the traffic!<br />
<br />
I was trying to keep my cool as much as I could while worrying about the safety of my son and trying to run while my ankle (healing from surgery) is still trying to figure out how to walk briskly, let alone run.<br />
<br />
"Stop!!!" I screamed.<br />
<br />
"Stop!!"<br />
<br />
I was grateful when he seemed to notice the few people waiting there at the crosswalk and he stopped because they were stopped, definitely not because I asked him to.<br />
<br />
He was still yelling/screaming at me and as soon as one desperate person trying to flee this strangers rants put one foot off the curb, Brother was running maniacally across to the adjacent sidewalk.<br />
<br />
I hurried to catch up with him.<br />
<br />
At this point I'm not sure if I am crying or if the breeze from running is irritating my eyes, but I can feel the tears streaking over my eyelids and into my smile lines (yup, smile lines, that's what they are). I start dabbing at my eyeliner in hopes that while chasing and being yelled at by my son that I'm not looking like some kind of nightmare to the passersby.<br />
<br />
Then he suddenly and completely, randomly runs from the sidewalk off the curb to the side of the busy street! There was a car passing by right at that time and I'm not sure who was more scared, me or the driver of that car. It didn't look like a good situation even if it wasn't intentional... and I'm pretty sure it wasn't, but terrifying nonetheless. I think he was just fleeing from me and really didn't pay attention to the fact he had just almost darted onto the road.<br />
<br />
I screamed, "NO! Stop!" again and that was not a good idea, I knew I had to gain control of my emotions so that I could be completely calm and, in turn, have him deescalate or even start to enjoy our walk together.<br />
<br />
He kept yelling at me. We even scared a homeless man that was at the corner asking for handouts. He didn't even try asking us to give him anything, but you could tell he was nervous about the situation heading his way and couldn't decipher if he should try to help me or the young man who was yelling at me.<br />
<br />
Now I can say, "Hey, you know it's bad when you scare a homeless man!"<br />
<br />
A lot of things that I am not going to give detail to at this time, but let's just say that my eyes were stinging with tears and eyeliner.<br />
<br />
I felt helpless. I finally thought to call Brother's coach, Debi to quickly and quietly describe the situation and see if there were anywhere near where Brother and I were at that moment. They were still too far away and were actually approaching the restaurant completely from the other side.<br />
<br />
I cut the phone call short when Brother, once again, had put himself in a dangerous situation.<br />
<br />
It had been about 45 minutes of constant nightmarish chaos causing dirty looks, scared faces and complete confusion/concern and my dream of bonding with my son on a walk was now long forgotten.<br />
<br />
I was trying to keep the flood gates of my tears closed so that while trying to get Brother safely to the restaurant I didn't make a really bad situation look even worse.<br />
<br />
Not only was I now staking claim on the Homeless man too scared of us, but now I can say that Disneyland security guards and their dogs would come near us to assess the situation, but seemed to be catching on that Brother had some special needs going on and would cautiously and slowly leave.<br />
<br />
<b>NOTICE:</b><br />
<i>I am going to insert something here. I know that you mean well, but if you are one of those people who wants to say, "Well, it sounds like a typical 18-year-old boy who doesn't want to be with his parents," just don't even let it come out of your mouth. You can think it, but please don't say it out loud unless your typical adult son has acted out his feelings about not wanting to be with you like a toddler would then you cannot possibly think that saying "he's acting like any other 18-year-old" could ever make me feel better or add any less stress to the situation. I am laughing about bits and pieces here and there, because I have to laugh to stay sane, and frankly there are always funny things, but don't belittle the situation by saying that it was no big deal.</i><br />
<b>NOTICE OVER.</b><br />
<br />
To be honest there were a few times that I almost stopped the security officer on purpose to ask for help in getting my son to our meeting point. I was desperate and just wasn't sure I was going to make it.<br />
<br />
I'll now skim past the pouting, hiding, screaming, raging, darting, and stopping to get to the point of the security check at the entrance.<br />
<br />
Surprisingly he was starting to calm down at this point. This spot must have seemed more familiar to him and he was feeling safer in the "routine" he was remembering from the day before. Debi called at this time and I was talking to her and Brother continued to calm even more as he was reassured in hearing her voice saying that we were heading in the right direction. He was starting to notice Minnie Mouse and other characters in the store fronts and that was a very good sign that his anxiety was starting to take a break.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE16aai68jeq9zSgJQUqATW2yn4FREWSOAU0XTL2HROm4J4XiQNyKzWx5duwZToUXntUZtHbSULtP6KXv0E1p0_N0enWT-BBmc44kbQfZBE4g3Ioa4_DA6ggrKIcgHukvGHFDV9J7C/s1600/IMG_4865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE16aai68jeq9zSgJQUqATW2yn4FREWSOAU0XTL2HROm4J4XiQNyKzWx5duwZToUXntUZtHbSULtP6KXv0E1p0_N0enWT-BBmc44kbQfZBE4g3Ioa4_DA6ggrKIcgHukvGHFDV9J7C/s640/IMG_4865.JPG" width="480" /></a><br />
<br />
My tears had dried and I could only imagine what my face looked like from all the eyeliner and mascara I had put on to help the selfies I was hoping to take with my son on our fantastic walk to Disneyland that morning. Don't worry, I didn't get any pictures, but when we walked past the LEGO store Brother was calmed down enough that I, at least, got some photos of the cool structures built out of LEGO bricks. I tried to cheer Brother up by offering to take a picture of him with Belle and the Beast in LEGO form, but he yelled, "Judy's little girl!" and darted from me... so I just got the sculptures.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kjnNbhPxLJicvWzzipjCEVxKWZRUctsuFsLy5cPFa8jSUoS2rmXMc8YgrquSUsbjNVw_e2QMllM9qFyxtELVU93f1ePoMHHc3jm4OhZbO0EjsEwMUlhygrDSE3vPmtHa5PyLkLsI/s1600/IMG_4871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1469" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kjnNbhPxLJicvWzzipjCEVxKWZRUctsuFsLy5cPFa8jSUoS2rmXMc8YgrquSUsbjNVw_e2QMllM9qFyxtELVU93f1ePoMHHc3jm4OhZbO0EjsEwMUlhygrDSE3vPmtHa5PyLkLsI/s640/IMG_4871.JPG" width="586" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi50LlhfPtLwhf2vxqVffbUo6pr-gLDumaG6eJXqQYH6GH1gq_JlpHshoSOjFcr4tkMhPm5bdJUnzEQxwkDZYffO_Q7CifXiux-WvQEgu_asntfSw7VFlDoihUGwDnYqjKKffBYetqw/s1600/IMG_4862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi50LlhfPtLwhf2vxqVffbUo6pr-gLDumaG6eJXqQYH6GH1gq_JlpHshoSOjFcr4tkMhPm5bdJUnzEQxwkDZYffO_Q7CifXiux-WvQEgu_asntfSw7VFlDoihUGwDnYqjKKffBYetqw/s640/IMG_4862.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWq4Llv_1Bk3yLhLn8M1RuLQeqqPhNmCytlR5A1-CaM3cw_oxMW_ULCyiM9D96_9seEyhwjhwrRRHYcNI49A3oxv9AVtGe9-b759-gPYm-zVBRjuAWrfzOTr_MzftSsTvs83BS6GC2/s1600/IMG_4839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWq4Llv_1Bk3yLhLn8M1RuLQeqqPhNmCytlR5A1-CaM3cw_oxMW_ULCyiM9D96_9seEyhwjhwrRRHYcNI49A3oxv9AVtGe9-b759-gPYm-zVBRjuAWrfzOTr_MzftSsTvs83BS6GC2/s640/IMG_4839.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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As soon as we reached the restaurant I started to cry again. Out of relief that it was over I guess.</div>
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One of Brother's teammates who has Down Syndrome was already there with her parents and Brother was happy to see them and start socializing with them. I was completely distraught to here that they too just hung out at the hotel that morning and walked to the restaurant not too long before we did. My heart ached that if I had just reached out to them, the whole fiasco would have been avoided because Brother would have been walking with friends.</div>
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Sigh.</div>
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Here's a pretty picture of the fish tank at the restaurant entrance though...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTOXxBeM9DSA7ylfbhn5B74TGupodWO3s-D2YEAk6LlnHkSTsP0NwdEdGBgTF7XJp8B9Vf43sbiQ8pP-XAJG2dAjc4mRfD4bvoOKFGGF_Kx99xbEUmal2Gkut1QdSaP7Bwm70Qgug9/s1600/IMG_4854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTOXxBeM9DSA7ylfbhn5B74TGupodWO3s-D2YEAk6LlnHkSTsP0NwdEdGBgTF7XJp8B9Vf43sbiQ8pP-XAJG2dAjc4mRfD4bvoOKFGGF_Kx99xbEUmal2Gkut1QdSaP7Bwm70Qgug9/s640/IMG_4854.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Lunch tasted very good, but conversation was tough as I was trying to explain what had happened with the walk there to the coaches and parents without succumbing to tears and feelings of inadequacy for raising Brother, again, I just have to mention that I had no idea what my face looked like after the waterworks and wind and stinging eyes from irritation of too much make-up... (and trust me, when I did get back to the hotel and had the chance to look at myself in the mirror, I had to laugh hysterically at myself because it looked like I had 3 painted black stripes running vertically up my eyelids with reddened puffiness at the bottom and grayish substance gathering the smile lines with raindrop shapes stretching out to me hair line! Trust me! It was a sight to behold. I am truly amazed at the strength of the other adults to not say a word about how I looked, but I also made sure to get after them for not telling me. Ha ha ha ha ha!)<br />
<br />
Anyway, after lunch I had vowed that I would NEVER go anywhere on this trip unless Brother and I were with his coaches, Debi and Abby. So on our way back to the hotel to get ready for competition we made sure to stick by their sides.<br />
<br />
Of course when we walked back by the LEGO store he just had to get a picture with Belle and the Beast with his coaches. (heart)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEzy5W6EtIX8hEdBUvZorWYwVXLlQ9zP5PHRcG8ZA5hOwDG-rP6IMYhFi33egK0x2dtg-sNU6nleYdW9C3WvLcu1-LuGJ11CAIuzoYVjYJcLKCNtr52qLg5RVGVH1_ZepHox49zjlX/s1600/IMG_4870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1338" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEzy5W6EtIX8hEdBUvZorWYwVXLlQ9zP5PHRcG8ZA5hOwDG-rP6IMYhFi33egK0x2dtg-sNU6nleYdW9C3WvLcu1-LuGJ11CAIuzoYVjYJcLKCNtr52qLg5RVGVH1_ZepHox49zjlX/s640/IMG_4870.JPG" width="534" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking at him in this picture you would never guess at what the previous two hours had held.</td></tr>
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I made sure to help Brother feel involved by coming with me to help braid girls' hair for the competition. He was happy to be with them and I was happy that he was too.<br />
<br />
Brother walked in with the team to the competition and my heart sank just a little bit as I realized that I was walking into a competition only to watch my son be a spectator, but I had talked to him about being the best spectator possible.<br />
<br />
And he was!<br />
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He even got to be in the team picture they took before the competition!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88F9V3wlw-ZOJ7m-_ISL6yGZzLNd1NvPrMZ2BaAK4nYaklAAsyHDie229cdAYquxahev36WNUnl091dGYTkePMyZ7LDFl4XOw7W_45QLii8dWBNpAvThpurS2IswQ54Yxh6BC0dAz/s1600/IMG_4880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1238" data-original-width="1600" height="494" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88F9V3wlw-ZOJ7m-_ISL6yGZzLNd1NvPrMZ2BaAK4nYaklAAsyHDie229cdAYquxahev36WNUnl091dGYTkePMyZ7LDFl4XOw7W_45QLii8dWBNpAvThpurS2IswQ54Yxh6BC0dAz/s640/IMG_4880.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSx7Eiabx8bfYHLAKpo1o7csLoD-GE7U5F1g3Rv0ZZn2wLVZf5ebk7EyN5C3hyX4w-tLEaKUe1AnO8ftEs-yaOYI1gHnBUDjX2iSGm8gRzOfwQhsHv7Od1PFmsAhk7iuR8r3cTvfvF/s1600/IMG_4876.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSx7Eiabx8bfYHLAKpo1o7csLoD-GE7U5F1g3Rv0ZZn2wLVZf5ebk7EyN5C3hyX4w-tLEaKUe1AnO8ftEs-yaOYI1gHnBUDjX2iSGm8gRzOfwQhsHv7Od1PFmsAhk7iuR8r3cTvfvF/s640/IMG_4876.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's down there at the bottom of the mats cheering loud and clear for his friends. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8b04wRzixNpmfrWt1camgQSnHWkPBh__Ak1E5r5C6h_VYhmzFA8xgmynKWUu2m0b5Eg-KnQwx21n-QbkdgMzjTYuEgWSmuVMgZHfUIpHPuMqmMOvCI9-z5IEWt8G1gUTgOjJ6Bq2i/s1600/IMG_4877.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8b04wRzixNpmfrWt1camgQSnHWkPBh__Ak1E5r5C6h_VYhmzFA8xgmynKWUu2m0b5Eg-KnQwx21n-QbkdgMzjTYuEgWSmuVMgZHfUIpHPuMqmMOvCI9-z5IEWt8G1gUTgOjJ6Bq2i/s640/IMG_4877.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheRCx9gQz6IW27BjuthPhyAbPAW5R75wMcejF6-FDDQhs_2oIiA9h3teqzjLG1Y_SSj4b2zEUNcCSotZVDWXu6U_2C3Ijh6kP_oFvbQwaFMBXbk9on3rj8FkeBDx8SKK9mtkC8NGye/s1600/IMG_4878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheRCx9gQz6IW27BjuthPhyAbPAW5R75wMcejF6-FDDQhs_2oIiA9h3teqzjLG1Y_SSj4b2zEUNcCSotZVDWXu6U_2C3Ijh6kP_oFvbQwaFMBXbk9on3rj8FkeBDx8SKK9mtkC8NGye/s640/IMG_4878.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was so happy for them. It really was fun to watch!</td></tr>
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After their performance we waited for the results.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2pFG3JgbXO8P82izZ16FSJXK8LHetZ8-xP0e3LWOZ2F7A-8sb8wp04y_OWIXD_ICFsOjIspiEg0G6fPkjG8Zcz6b4ex4kDPpDT3p3Cm1RGr_Lzpl4KBuvfelbiM_SxmVElzbb0u-/s1600/IMG_4887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="689" data-original-width="1600" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2pFG3JgbXO8P82izZ16FSJXK8LHetZ8-xP0e3LWOZ2F7A-8sb8wp04y_OWIXD_ICFsOjIspiEg0G6fPkjG8Zcz6b4ex4kDPpDT3p3Cm1RGr_Lzpl4KBuvfelbiM_SxmVElzbb0u-/s640/IMG_4887.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLdu72W8X0RL-nTXXRpO-Lh0r0dxGQAQ1UzOd165e0dPGCGLTY4XEwPlkYHhZvUeSDJ_v73HBNNhD8bwsAFrq-oLxTtt43-0fYisHrxxAIyjbSC93lm1Bn2KiCyNuMl29jncXbVLH/s1600/IMG_4899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLdu72W8X0RL-nTXXRpO-Lh0r0dxGQAQ1UzOd165e0dPGCGLTY4XEwPlkYHhZvUeSDJ_v73HBNNhD8bwsAFrq-oLxTtt43-0fYisHrxxAIyjbSC93lm1Bn2KiCyNuMl29jncXbVLH/s640/IMG_4899.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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We were all a little disheartened to hear that we didn't place in the preliminaries to be able to go to the finals the next day.</div>
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In my heart and Brother's, though, Orem High School Cheer Squad will always be the best of the best, number one, top of the crop!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mC7TUoV7aGO95LNLuoUtKY0v4LTNz9UJJsTEsYb9tRjxb0A5hGdTSgH85RmfB3gOCBK5ZMNkdpJofKKEpDnTXtzHG6Lje4Ry76E75x56DbeM17THadYLEf62sbOTQdD1IKXKQq-H/s1600/IMG_4895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mC7TUoV7aGO95LNLuoUtKY0v4LTNz9UJJsTEsYb9tRjxb0A5hGdTSgH85RmfB3gOCBK5ZMNkdpJofKKEpDnTXtzHG6Lje4Ry76E75x56DbeM17THadYLEf62sbOTQdD1IKXKQq-H/s640/IMG_4895.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother was so proud to have his picture taken on the stage!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsXMHqfT_YKVIZ_5449jBN29xBu4-letuWdMh6t7NFTEoTOe705sOKe6zksO2t7yDeKMKeCHDS-5wQVMuZHqVrf4Qxu20XdlYgqOnausLK09SEU8sy5tBiMxOJET_F0TY1Wj1PNOyU/s1600/IMG_4896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsXMHqfT_YKVIZ_5449jBN29xBu4-letuWdMh6t7NFTEoTOe705sOKe6zksO2t7yDeKMKeCHDS-5wQVMuZHqVrf4Qxu20XdlYgqOnausLK09SEU8sy5tBiMxOJET_F0TY1Wj1PNOyU/s640/IMG_4896.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I asked Brother if he had fun and </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">h</span><span style="font-size: large;">e grinned and jumped and yelled excitedly, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"YES!"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">No "I don't know" was needed this time! </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">He was positive what my response would be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>It was all worth it.</i></span></div>
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Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-34038452726632466442018-03-19T13:24:00.002-06:002018-03-19T13:24:33.423-06:00First Ever Trip to Disneyland and Cheer Competition (Day 1)It was about 4:00am, "I forgot his I.D.!"<br />
<br />
I said this loudly in the back seat of our friends' Surburban as I was trying to figure out why I felt like I was forgetting something.<br />
<br />
We were only 15 minutes away from the airport and we were now 45 minutes away from home and I have just realized that I forgot that my son is now 18 years old, and therefore needs to have an I.D. to fly on an airplane...<br />
<br />
(sound of a record screeching to a halt)<br />
<br />
Brother and I were on our way to Disneyland with his cheer squad for cheer competition nationals.<br />
<br />
Neither one of us have ever been to Disneyland!<br />
<br />
Ever!<br />
<br />
I'm 41 and never been to Disneyland!<br />
<br />
Brother is 18 and never been to Disneyland.<br />
<br />
And now he had no I.D.<br />
<br />
Seems like such a simple thing for me to remember.<br />
<br />
Part of my forgetfulness may have been partly related to my extreme excitement to go to a place I've dreamed of going for almost my whole life, but I think it's mostly because I've never traveled alone with one of our kids and especially not on a plane so as confident as I felt there is definitely a reason that Marc is my other half... he remembers most of what I forget.<br />
<br />
So at 4:15am I called Marc to wake him from his sleep to ask him to take photos of Brother's birth certificate, social security card, school I.D. and our certified letter of legal guardianship. I figured that something was better than nothing.<br />
<br />
Brother was already pretty amped up about his first time to Disneyland which also lends itself to helping his anxiety levels to be either high or ready to explode so the fact that his mom had forgotten something this important, and he could tell how important it was by the tones we were all using to talk about it, he was on the verge of explosion.<br />
<br />
We got our bags checked in.<br />
<br />
Then we were on our way to TSA checkpoint to get to our flight.<br />
<br />
"Umm, so, umm, ya, my son has special needs and I am new to this whole 18 year old son scenario and legal guardianship thing and I totally wasn't thinking and forgot his I.D." I was slightly leaning in with a loud whisper in the TSA employee's ear because I didn't want to cause a scene, draw attention to Brother or cause Brother to start screaming at me in a tight-spaced, high emotion, hurried environment, "I have pictures my husband sent me of his Birth Certificate, Social Security..."<br />
<br />
That's where she stopped me and slightly perturbed asked, "Do you have any physical copies with you ma'am. We cannot accept photos of the documents."<br />
<br />
I was about to feel my heart sink when Brother began to get riled and yelling at me for messing up and his physical aggression was teetering on making an appearance.<br />
<br />
I asked the employee if there was anything I could do so that we wouldn't miss our flight that was going to take us to the land of pure happiness and joy.<br />
<br />
She was very kind and I could see she was being especially careful in her wording now as she was becoming aware of the situation that we were facing with an over-anxious, 18-year old, 6 foot 2 inch tall man in our presence, "Oh, it's totally going to be fine. We just need to pull in someone who will verify your ticket information and make a few phone calls to get you through."<br />
<br />
She ushered Brother and I aside so that we would not hold up the line of ever collecting people who were already huffing at my stupidity holding them from getting where they needed to go.<br />
<br />
As we stood there waiting Brother made sure to throw in a few jabs at me now and then to release his anxiety and make sure that everyone knew this was all my fault.<br />
<br />
Then the TSA manager came. The lady who had been helping us then turned to explain the situation and the manager quickly looked over at Brother and asked, "When did you turn 18?"<br />
<br />
Brother froze in fear so I leaned forward to prompt him and nothing came out of his mouth so this time I repeated her question a little louder. Still no answer so I prompted him. He repeated the month and day, each after I said it first. The manager smiled and said, "They're good."<br />
<br />
And there it was! We were on the other side of the turn-thingy that you have to walk through.<br />
<br />
Now on the hour and a half flight to LA.<br />
<br />
I made sure to pack Brothers High School Musical microphone, that has been his constant companion since age 10, and his iPod.<br />
<br />
The plane was mostly full of our cheer team and some other local cheer teams and parents so I wasn't too concerned about his dramatic singing to entertain his friends and fellow cheer squad member with his renditions of various Shania Twain songs. He had most of us giggling and/or singing along as his antics got bigger and better.<br />
<br />
He wasn't sitting by me.<br />
<br />
Of course not.<br />
<br />
He's 18. He's NOT going to sit by his mom like he's on the 3rd grade field trip.<br />
<br />
So he had already planned with some of his friends from cheer that he would sit with them.<br />
<br />
I sat behind him so that I wouldn't miss too much of the joy of watching him socialize on his terms or be able to quickly intervene if he decided to fall apart or something.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7HKw9yGJSc41sInwPoVLdMB5hGpvqa76PCh53X5Ky7vYGxlFS0FCoPfDIkwpBeJZX502r0UeuEiWxwU0wl48d1gXpOfDHWPyzWFcUjxUzPXP6yPpqAtztqGy2pIHZ_Wri-XfUYKJ/s1600/IMG_4776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr7HKw9yGJSc41sInwPoVLdMB5hGpvqa76PCh53X5Ky7vYGxlFS0FCoPfDIkwpBeJZX502r0UeuEiWxwU0wl48d1gXpOfDHWPyzWFcUjxUzPXP6yPpqAtztqGy2pIHZ_Wri-XfUYKJ/s640/IMG_4776.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See, the saga of me screwing up and forgetting his ID and such now seems to be forgotten</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
He was far from that though. He loved sitting by his friends. I loved sitting behind them.<br />
<br />
I listened to Brother being social, making jokes and giggling profusely when they said something funny.<br />
<br />
Then it came time to land.<br />
<br />
Brother threw his arms up as the wheels were touching the ground and squealed with complete and udder delight, "This is so much fun!!!!!!" Then he squealed, inaudibly, a few more excited words in the high-pitched excitedness and everyone began to celebrate with him and laugh and laugh and laugh. Lucky for me one of his team members got the last squeals on video! We all took turns watching it because it would bust us up every time.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRttW8YiP4Z6bjYv8eTe1YejD6BZWW3ITQ4qEyYvXixk8VsEUf-8kb4-sv16N8cYe2ue0hmbOgTkGwfRTu_q_YGxJAjpR2lYGPCRYd_gs6E_w4btCF79M2TJ0FFtkU-1IbJoYjjE12/s1600/IMG_4781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRttW8YiP4Z6bjYv8eTe1YejD6BZWW3ITQ4qEyYvXixk8VsEUf-8kb4-sv16N8cYe2ue0hmbOgTkGwfRTu_q_YGxJAjpR2lYGPCRYd_gs6E_w4btCF79M2TJ0FFtkU-1IbJoYjjE12/s640/IMG_4781.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">inside LAX waiting for his teammates' baggage</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
And so it was going to begin. I knew that if he was this excited about a plane landing then Disneyland was going to blow him out of the water.<br />
<br />
I had it all planned out. I may have forgotten his I.D. but I had made sure to have a plan of how to document Brother's every shout of glee and every shiver of excitement by having my portable iPhone chargers at the ready, my awesome just-got-it-for-Christmas-from-my-husband-bluetooth-selfie-stick ready for the epic filming that was about to go on. None of these fantastic moments were going to be missed. Especially because it was both of our first times to be there so it just had to be documented the right way.<br />
<br />
"Ma'am. Ma'am. Ma'am! You can't take that selfie stick into Disneyland! They aren't allowed. They'll just take it from you and throw it away."<br />
<br />
I slowly lowered my selfie-stick and my self confidence after filming an epic entry to the entry of the entry of the entry of the Disneyland entrance.<br />
<br />
Well, I thought it was the happiest place on earth until that moment.<br />
<br />
My plans of documenting me and my son walking into Disneyland for the first time ever together was now floating down the drain of forgotten dreams and broken Mickey Ears.<br />
<br />
I picked my confidence up off the brick-laden walk-way to the gate of security, asked that the coaches and girls he loved would take him through to Disneyland without me so as to prevent another anxiety ridden experience for Brother and then trek the point six miles back to our hotel to rid myself of the heathen selfie stick, then trek back the point six miles to Disneyland selfie stickless so I could enter and, at least eat my first Disneyland lunch with my son for our first time.<br />
<br />
Luckily, my arm works as a pretty decent selfie stick and I was able to film myself entering the magical kingdom by myself. I was pretty much in tears on the inside, but kept it together on the outside when I got excited about seeing Chip and Dale and Goofy pretty much right off the bat.<br />
<br />
As I walked up the street of the famous Disney Castle I admit that my heart was a little low knowing that I had missed this exciting moment with Brother.<br />
<br />
I had finally reached the destination that he was at with his friends for lunch, The Jolly Holiday Cafe.<br />
<br />
There he was happily waiting for me with 3 of his teammates with a big grin on his face, excited anxiety in his eyes, and overstimulation on his face. I held back the tears as, unknown to anyone else around him, saw that this experience was tough for him, but he was holding it together. I was proud of him and I was sad for him too.<br />
<br />
I asked his teammates if they would sit with him a little longer while I got us some food.<br />
<br />
When I went in I wasn't shocked by the food prices because I had been warned, but I was more worried about the fact there was really nothing at that café that Brother would eat... oh boy...<br />
<br />
Then I saw the Chicken and Green Apple salad! Ta da! Brother and I would share lunch, he would eat the apples and chicken and I would eat the salad. It was perfect and Brother's worried face calmed when he saw I had brought out two things he really loved to eat.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_3Z7sqXfPkGN_8Kt1U38Xn9JkEkBvACogG4B3WP9Gg3Hd-EtHLcZuhbPTaNTfaAoRxiUMCuBpdMG6qKH8kkPkxl2XzGrrvYAFcD8qUnCD2P-xKhKgpg1BqBdMx5qdvWiux3qfkku6/s1600/IMG_4793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_3Z7sqXfPkGN_8Kt1U38Xn9JkEkBvACogG4B3WP9Gg3Hd-EtHLcZuhbPTaNTfaAoRxiUMCuBpdMG6qKH8kkPkxl2XzGrrvYAFcD8qUnCD2P-xKhKgpg1BqBdMx5qdvWiux3qfkku6/s640/IMG_4793.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting on the patio of the Jolly Holiday Café</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6mItqNhi44aSsscRY1b0bBM11m6YyhhAFwWO0xXma6QlIurG87Nu3AlRDktApNwqZZoytYUpzoTx_3kMgCbkBvLLUxfguYhSZzlyFXIZEsxqihBPb1oXzF00-ri0qHIzWbKzhpK1t/s1600/IMG_4794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6mItqNhi44aSsscRY1b0bBM11m6YyhhAFwWO0xXma6QlIurG87Nu3AlRDktApNwqZZoytYUpzoTx_3kMgCbkBvLLUxfguYhSZzlyFXIZEsxqihBPb1oXzF00-ri0qHIzWbKzhpK1t/s640/IMG_4794.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The picture I took to prove that I had, indeed, found something Brother would eat</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Then it was on with the itinerary of the day. Thursday was team day and we all stuck together in a group for all the rides and meals. Brother was very happy about this arrangement since he lives to be with his cheer friends and beloved coaches.<br />
<br />
Our first stop was the Indiana Jones Ride!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimEY5PP3Xc35ylwTp4QekSRgcpLRQbR3C7LWED-7tVBidQ0KBx81QszJWJA09_m_hA7fNM4nXdoYpNXQoELIYYBOqQWZSgFcVlU8L5hYPs7m4J1qxGEB367uq-Y8a5fn4yfQRsoT1o/s1600/IMG_4808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimEY5PP3Xc35ylwTp4QekSRgcpLRQbR3C7LWED-7tVBidQ0KBx81QszJWJA09_m_hA7fNM4nXdoYpNXQoELIYYBOqQWZSgFcVlU8L5hYPs7m4J1qxGEB367uq-Y8a5fn4yfQRsoT1o/s640/IMG_4808.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother with Gray and her mom getting ready to enter the Indiana Jones Ride</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxFCgqwQSv8EWxCFSmE2Q2fTpbW2Z_hgcuvF7EfPDW2sw8t7hdutq56-Vp0PzcWOUP75my878s8xrRFYwKDTaEXKq7g4_6BVqWDqhkUcIeMPXh7AgfYSsDOlkyDrXJvmg7pO5YrXa/s1600/IMG_4809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxFCgqwQSv8EWxCFSmE2Q2fTpbW2Z_hgcuvF7EfPDW2sw8t7hdutq56-Vp0PzcWOUP75my878s8xrRFYwKDTaEXKq7g4_6BVqWDqhkUcIeMPXh7AgfYSsDOlkyDrXJvmg7pO5YrXa/s640/IMG_4809.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This pic makes me laugh because I didn't even notice that my had was covering Brother's face! Ha! Ha! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqNKCtDH-zchFR6wBaqohvTWt3lGST3W5QZbKEleWMys2cTOTBxRWPhWypdPoDifEivE5KjvfL5kZGl9tRuqXM3ild6tuOZB9KULpSRT0jp4nWUDlc6di2XhjR2aNgs2Bw96FmrjQ7/s1600/IMG_4802.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="902" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqNKCtDH-zchFR6wBaqohvTWt3lGST3W5QZbKEleWMys2cTOTBxRWPhWypdPoDifEivE5KjvfL5kZGl9tRuqXM3ild6tuOZB9KULpSRT0jp4nWUDlc6di2XhjR2aNgs2Bw96FmrjQ7/s640/IMG_4802.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His happy face while waiting in the Disneyland lines!</td></tr>
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Still, one month later, Brother says that Indiana Jones was his favorite ride. I think partly because it was his first ever ride in Disneyland, but also, it was really fun! Brother's favorite part was the "drops." That's how his assistant coach, Abby, would explain if the rides were scary or not and Brother took this to heart for every ride after that. He would turn to Abby and ask, "Are there drops?" whenever we were going to go on another ride. So Indiana Jones was his "first drop," therefore his most memorable one.<br />
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Pirates of the Caribbean was right up there on the nostalgia meter for me and for Brighton and we giggled and cheered for all the awesome moments along the way. It was truly magical!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRR9JCOES_NqaNanc0xHi8SrxCQVyra-CcrgR_OF8hXfu5rWjpGGfbH_BC1uwjTdS8GmMkAGZklGEXrdh2-8eRetoElpuQQV-CltuTf3kySwIdoE-aXVNOQgc7csuMGwEpRGhRLO6T/s1600/IMG_4824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRR9JCOES_NqaNanc0xHi8SrxCQVyra-CcrgR_OF8hXfu5rWjpGGfbH_BC1uwjTdS8GmMkAGZklGEXrdh2-8eRetoElpuQQV-CltuTf3kySwIdoE-aXVNOQgc7csuMGwEpRGhRLO6T/s640/IMG_4824.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">showing that he is as tall as the doorway to the Pirates ride... <br />I was always able to find him because of his height compared to the rest of the crowd.</td></tr>
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Brother wanted to be by his friend, Gray's side (her name has been changed for this since I didn't ask permission to use it) the entire time, yet also wanted the companionship and love of his coaches, Debi and Abby. So he would do everything Gray wanted to do, yet always had to have Debi and Abby with him for the ride. I learned this the hard way when we were about to get on the Thunder Mountain Ride. He wanted to go all the way up until the very last moments before getting on and then he wouldn't get in the car with me and was making quite a scene in which I wasn't helping because I thought if I pulled him into the car he would move past his anxiety for that moment like he usually does, but he made it look like I was trying to kidnap him and then frantically ran back to sit by Abby a few cars behind us. So, in order to not look too creepy I sat alone in the car I was standing dumbfoundedly in and hung on for dear life. Did I mention I don't like rides. At all. Oh boy, I think it was only my embarrassment that kept me from "Code V" which is what I hear is Disney term for "vomit."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGenlZLbliTM9ZwaL2FC6-d5VWfLAUoEDck0Zth1VurXgIldG-ToduKRTmcfzIoHmlu5aWfiDp0JU5B7lTti2amTb55VSxGAmTYv1XveM-EFfMmTsc-8qcwT1DH67XLLZOkCJODbh6/s1600/IMG_4819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGenlZLbliTM9ZwaL2FC6-d5VWfLAUoEDck0Zth1VurXgIldG-ToduKRTmcfzIoHmlu5aWfiDp0JU5B7lTti2amTb55VSxGAmTYv1XveM-EFfMmTsc-8qcwT1DH67XLLZOkCJODbh6/s640/IMG_4819.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEmif92DKaZDhG5WQwKdoRcUHggxOhfUZWrVK6ot2OpoxCffjpb6YDfe7zqihFy-id0r47_f7bbRMzGWOtwSl88XfPnbdglkRRgz8_D2t0CZd3oUXyNAebcvV2zF58RVLkJNXiIWC/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEmif92DKaZDhG5WQwKdoRcUHggxOhfUZWrVK6ot2OpoxCffjpb6YDfe7zqihFy-id0r47_f7bbRMzGWOtwSl88XfPnbdglkRRgz8_D2t0CZd3oUXyNAebcvV2zF58RVLkJNXiIWC/s640/IMG_0019.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I tried to get pictures of the group together, but I never got them all in one shot, but at least we have some.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBEmuvNqbL73zzKC5Y53D9LccBeGkR2yFuAQvIVZwXL63VNKi72X7-xSAaQs-oiZmczU0_JVolhC9gi9kJj6-RgVBKJh6NzN2Aj3DmgvqJ2witfbDK7Dwv9aEZkjPD9HMr8Mggbkv/s1600/IMG_0018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBEmuvNqbL73zzKC5Y53D9LccBeGkR2yFuAQvIVZwXL63VNKi72X7-xSAaQs-oiZmczU0_JVolhC9gi9kJj6-RgVBKJh6NzN2Aj3DmgvqJ2witfbDK7Dwv9aEZkjPD9HMr8Mggbkv/s640/IMG_0018.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for our turn to ride the steam train to the other side of the park for the Space Mountain ride. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKfpv6NP1b3vSWyTZKa2V_iall7kxZkQ9OPUBwTn9uNbYv58aA6QQKlQ0eCLGoVFBUgbH4GU8P255mp4WyL7fUz3bI7OjcY-97JJLJPAxAmb5srcz5Ctv5dn2rG9VMzQyR70w7wIG/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkKfpv6NP1b3vSWyTZKa2V_iall7kxZkQ9OPUBwTn9uNbYv58aA6QQKlQ0eCLGoVFBUgbH4GU8P255mp4WyL7fUz3bI7OjcY-97JJLJPAxAmb5srcz5Ctv5dn2rG9VMzQyR70w7wIG/s640/IMG_0025.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He's pointing at me saying, "Judy's little girl!" <br />That line became his go-to phrase for me whether it was for insult or giggles.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4OlPFEnLqyH7pOsRvI5ab6qW1iCV5IU997v6R2w6XItM0caxPRvNrB9hT39vIBg2g6LMRTQRFDRMlwle_mqCtLu80X10-9PTJ6YnIyLW73202OrztZccrxfDSK_jSWwjUgydD80m/s1600/IMG_0028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4OlPFEnLqyH7pOsRvI5ab6qW1iCV5IU997v6R2w6XItM0caxPRvNrB9hT39vIBg2g6LMRTQRFDRMlwle_mqCtLu80X10-9PTJ6YnIyLW73202OrztZccrxfDSK_jSWwjUgydD80m/s640/IMG_0028.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case you forgot, or didn't know, Brother LOVES trains, especially steam trains so this little gem that would take us to the other side of the park was quite a highlight for Brother.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMuNwzS4FEiIkf3bNbPq8MedH-meFHqTPR3FvPiErEv8RcauNzajdOcgrlz9sltSR3vVUtGJ2CbdOHk60jjQyKb7LgytNAgOKmzyGhPLJZx0L34y7Ox2gmh56sNXgqu2LJXBKiufZ/s1600/IMG_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMuNwzS4FEiIkf3bNbPq8MedH-meFHqTPR3FvPiErEv8RcauNzajdOcgrlz9sltSR3vVUtGJ2CbdOHk60jjQyKb7LgytNAgOKmzyGhPLJZx0L34y7Ox2gmh56sNXgqu2LJXBKiufZ/s640/IMG_0032.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zEtBF1krEIvsKKykmj38ykZgIdACwEx8WKYbZ8t_CHv9sug45abiVOYcYnSPZSsst7AuQLY_NatSD0MKfRt8FPHfkiuhXMZBNJexv0JzwB9Yz4-m1ZH0aqoyPRqTEsLuD2hO6skV/s1600/IMG_0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2zEtBF1krEIvsKKykmj38ykZgIdACwEx8WKYbZ8t_CHv9sug45abiVOYcYnSPZSsst7AuQLY_NatSD0MKfRt8FPHfkiuhXMZBNJexv0JzwB9Yz4-m1ZH0aqoyPRqTEsLuD2hO6skV/s640/IMG_0033.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">posing for his photo op with the steam train</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-QVuiVgBeqwMM0A6go0U3OgnoZHhR1P-8NrAQfCJS5qXZVt3ePgDrPvnU68XHkj6_ctPPklqjMJBPH6UppokK9YHkwrWkmKNra4fHRH0GDVqDXQGlwQ-GDL3BEL0wvOXMjCyDxQV/s1600/IMG_0034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-QVuiVgBeqwMM0A6go0U3OgnoZHhR1P-8NrAQfCJS5qXZVt3ePgDrPvnU68XHkj6_ctPPklqjMJBPH6UppokK9YHkwrWkmKNra4fHRH0GDVqDXQGlwQ-GDL3BEL0wvOXMjCyDxQV/s640/IMG_0034.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had a LONG wait for the train so Brother made himself comfortable </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrqu_8zraNC8_TN5v1DEhvWvgBs3e19_hDRSEP6A54HxTUkkCGqN4-x-LvJR803fua9eVq-RKSe9Go-jcjxPMO38TNf9ac3ucL9KHIKojFX-m3uF7FROe0KXuHlVVKZwaJykEApS48/s1600/IMG_0036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrqu_8zraNC8_TN5v1DEhvWvgBs3e19_hDRSEP6A54HxTUkkCGqN4-x-LvJR803fua9eVq-RKSe9Go-jcjxPMO38TNf9ac3ucL9KHIKojFX-m3uF7FROe0KXuHlVVKZwaJykEApS48/s640/IMG_0036.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother and Gray showing me how tired they are while waiting for the train.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx420nXWEosIVwY57Jl7ukajhZF6Kb8MoRKmjlnDnMxXSCvbFumu3G92FJ6AeGOScfhql1mZQKVDh6eWHRq_NBowysxzwEGzmLwOIk_pT-6HZB1ikuX-vFW0K59TwTkLs9PrLnJOim/s1600/IMG_0037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx420nXWEosIVwY57Jl7ukajhZF6Kb8MoRKmjlnDnMxXSCvbFumu3G92FJ6AeGOScfhql1mZQKVDh6eWHRq_NBowysxzwEGzmLwOIk_pT-6HZB1ikuX-vFW0K59TwTkLs9PrLnJOim/s640/IMG_0037.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">going through the tunnels was a big highlight</td></tr>
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My next life lesson came when we got in line for the Space Mountain ride. We had been a little behind the group since Brother was wanting to be with his coaches and we had taken a little restroom detour. When we got to our spot in line Brother wanted to be with Gray WAY ahead in line with some of the group that had gotten there earlier and just he just HAD to be up with them. So, we jumped up in line to be with Gray and the others.<br />
<br />
The line for Space Mountain was so loooong! Looking behind us where we were in line I realized that it would be at least 45 minutes before the coaches and the others in their group would even be to the same place as us.<br />
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As we approached the entrance of the actual ride and not the entrance of the entrance of the entrance of the line of the entrance of the line to wait to get to the entrance I started to pick up on the fact that Brother kept looking behind us. It wasn't until we got all the way to the actual stairway entrance of the ride that I was rudely awakened to my ignorance that he was looking for his safe person, Abby, to be there to ride with him, but she was, at least, 45 minutes behind us. Brother was in complete panic mode. He was melting... that's the best way to describe it all in just one word... melting... for the length of the post I will leave that to your interpretation.<br />
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There was no way he was going to get on this ride.<br />
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But, I also found out there was no way he wasn't going to go on this ride.<br />
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The cast members running the ride were so kind to us and were very understanding and accepting of out situation and allowed Brother and I to stand out of the way near the exit wall. A couple of the cast members came to check up on us a few times to assess the situation and I just explained that he was too scared to go on the ride without his friend, Abby, and that he wanted to wait for her even though she was so far behind. I'm actually not sure how long we waited, but, to me, it seemed like and eternity as I watched Brother's anxiety levels spike and endured barrages of insults and name calling being spurted out by his anxiety.<br />
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Poor guy. I felt so sorry for him. A grown man he looks to many, yet falling apart like a toddler. I could tell he was embarrassed, yet couldn't get it under control. My heart ached for him. I wanted so badly to fix the situation, but there was nothing I could do but patiently wait for Abby to make it to the ride. I literally, as his mother, had NO way to mother him. I felt like a failure.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWUyRiHbcrHHdpcfLBFgfaq5JvTIqxw25frlF90brumRYL7laUrEWJO4NMzx-6Kgl0RY8PYwI7DvgCqby_QwWNYWhUkD2IIDzJMUQoW4eb-KmPy13IHuFMl6EvuaWabd2UDW1DgrZg/s1600/IMG_0039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWUyRiHbcrHHdpcfLBFgfaq5JvTIqxw25frlF90brumRYL7laUrEWJO4NMzx-6Kgl0RY8PYwI7DvgCqby_QwWNYWhUkD2IIDzJMUQoW4eb-KmPy13IHuFMl6EvuaWabd2UDW1DgrZg/s640/IMG_0039.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took this picture to remember the struggle of the moment, but it was a good distractor for at the time too. If you look closely you can see the panic in Brother's face... poor kid.</td></tr>
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Then we saw Abby coming through the walk-way and Brother's demeanor completely changed, a total 180! He was so happy to ride Space Mountain with Abby, his assistant coach, and was quick to ask her about the "drops" and if it was scary.<br />
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I was still a little queasy from the Thunder Mountain ride and, frankly, emotionally and physically drained from holding him during his panic, that I opted to not ride and just wait for the small group at the exit of the ride.<br />
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I walked back and waited at the exit of the ride feeling defeated and inadequate.<br />
<br />
Then Brother came from the exit of the Space Mountain ride in complete and total triumph and excited exhilaration announcing that "it was so much fun!" and there were "so many drops!" and it "was so scary!"<br />
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I reminded myself that I had been strong enough to wait with him, to endure the stares and awkward glances, questioning faces and uneducated comments all just to allow him to overcome his fear and enjoy the ride, even if it wasn't with me.<br />
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Besides, I didn't have time to feel sorry for myself, Brother was back on his Disney high and ready for the next adventure!<br />
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We split up into groups for dinner and then headed over to the California Adventure side for some more fun. When we went to get into the California Adventure Gates we had to show our tickets again and it was then that I realized that Brother's ticket had been lost along the way. Luckily Gray knew to take a picture of Brother's ticket in case of that very situation so she was able to bring the photo up on her phone and the cast member at the gate was happy to let Brother in.<br />
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Anway, we were off to ride Soarin', which when I first heard the name of the ride I thought it was some sort of fantasy-type ride from "Lord of the Rings" or something and was so confused as to what that had to do with Disneyland... I kept thinking they were saying Soren or Sorin, or something. So when I finally got to the gate of the entry of the beginning of the line and saw "Soarin'" on the sign it all made much more sense... soaring... minus the 'g' and it was Soarin' like soaring in a plane over the land... That ride was a definite favorite of mine and Brothers and we were screaming and giggling with excitement as we "soared" over Paris and Egypt, Brother's two favorite places.<br />
<br />
Brother was so giddy with Disney magic excitement! It was absolutely contagious!<br />
<br />
Everyone was so excited to go on the new "Guardians of the Galaxy" ride, which to those who know Disneyland would know it was the old Tower of Terror ride.<br />
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The line for this one was a long one and, frankly, hearing about what it was I did NOT want to go, but Brother wanted to do what his friends were doing and he was set to do this ride also.<br />
<br />
Brother is extremely sensitive to music, sounds and voice inflections or voice tones so sometimes even when something isn't scary at all, it will seem scary to him because of how the music sounds to him. As we got closer to getting to the start of the ride Brother started to become agitated and fearful because of the dialogue and music going on with the ambiance of the ride. I could see that he wasn't going to make it. He wanted to go with Abby on the ride so badly so he kept pushing forward, but he finally lost the fight to keep going. I took him into my arms and out the closest exit to try to calm him down.<br />
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It was a really rough next 15 or so minutes of my trying not to cry or meltdown so that he could cry and meltdown instead. I took a couple pictures to remind me of how hard those moments were.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJSF6ZqJ3J2XZ4G10skkHraEgHQXLcFMR3sSP5Nlt_L3g396BmIFCeSFSQUgPIJ6kze4bvWrQ2j33a_ZgS7NH6QatLX-lGX3oGpyOrDW-sV25J0CH83NA4cm62tUJRPoVvGmT-8aK/s1600/IMG_4830.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJSF6ZqJ3J2XZ4G10skkHraEgHQXLcFMR3sSP5Nlt_L3g396BmIFCeSFSQUgPIJ6kze4bvWrQ2j33a_ZgS7NH6QatLX-lGX3oGpyOrDW-sV25J0CH83NA4cm62tUJRPoVvGmT-8aK/s640/IMG_4830.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was so scared and so panicky that he could hardly look at the camera.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbzdGpWa-nHoxvdOo_PA9ROLvO3K26AzOEffPJWCmBbu6wIdz3f9T2ioCXeOxwzAr98GqLeFHzcUrMyXJJ4B6IU_g_2KHE5v1ORHS0-BycxTtT7VGuS26n4dxGY9rrgK6fOH34MhDy/s1600/IMG_4833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbzdGpWa-nHoxvdOo_PA9ROLvO3K26AzOEffPJWCmBbu6wIdz3f9T2ioCXeOxwzAr98GqLeFHzcUrMyXJJ4B6IU_g_2KHE5v1ORHS0-BycxTtT7VGuS26n4dxGY9rrgK6fOH34MhDy/s640/IMG_4833.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was getting cold outside so one of the cast members allowed for us to stand inside the door way <br />of the exit so that we could warm up. This is Brother trying to get some sensory input and some much needed comfort. <br />I remember taking a picture at this specific moment because I don't want people to think that this trip was all easy and that Brother just enjoyed every moment. It was hard and it was rewarding.</td></tr>
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When we met everyone at the end of the ride, Brother was so happy for them and told them they did a good job by going. He was so happy for them and kept reassuring himself that he was still very brave just by getting to the entry.<br />
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The almost half mile walk back to the hotel was full of laughter and story telling of things that had gone on that day and Brother was all smiles.<br />
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We got back to our hotel room about 10:30 and it took until almost 12:30 for him to finally calm all of his faculties down enough to fall asleep.<br />
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It had been a big first day and we had been awake for a full 20 hours... it was definitely time for bed.<br />
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And if I had known what was on the morrow... I would have gotten a little more sleep and prayed a lot harder during my evening prayer...<br />
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Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-41261733031370163922018-02-18T23:11:00.000-07:002018-02-18T23:31:26.177-07:00A Legguhlar Day with Rit RonnyOne was yelling at us for the 30-second drive up the street and the other one started rolling down his window as soon as we stopped.<br />
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Then he rolled it up again.<br />
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Then half-way down.<br />
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Then up again.<br />
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Then down again.<br />
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Then up half-way.<br />
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Then down again.<br />
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I giggled uncomfortably at first at these antics as we had just approached an entourage of people, a few of them quite well-known... OK, famous, really.<br />
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But, let me give you a little background as to why I was uncomfortable for a moment.<br />
<br />
If you are a regular reader you have well learned that Sister is the biggest culprit in our family for saying words incorrectly. It's one of her endearing traits that we have all grown to love, yet, at the same time, hope she learns the right pronunciation eventually, but in the mean time, we'll just get a good laugh.<br />
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Some of her words I am so used to that I forget to correct her anymore and then I am reminded when one of her cousins comes to me in a giggle-fit telling me that she said "legguhlar" instead of "regular."<br />
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That was a week ago last Sunday that I was reminded of her funny way of saying "regular."<br />
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The next day on Monday night we were having our weekly Family Home Evening and we were going over a document called "<a href="http://jesuschrist.lds.org/testimonies-of-him/articles/the-living-christ-the-testimony-of-the-apostles-of-the-church-of-jesus-christ-of-latter-day-saints?lang=eng&_r=1" target="_blank">The Living Christ</a>." It had taken a LOT of manual and emotional effort to get Baby in to the front room with the family for our FHE and I was beginning to think that maybe it just wasn't worth the effort that night and was about to give up. But the opening song, "I Am a Child of God" got her to sit on my lap and after it was over she demanded I say the opening prayer.<br />
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After the prayer she was still content in my lap, Sister and Brother were "paying attention" by at least being in the room and I proceeded to review the first paragraph we were working on last week and started to read the next paragraph.<br />
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To my surprise, our rarely verbal, hardly reading until 6 months ago, little 8-year-old girl got after me because she wanted to read!<br />
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I was a little taken back by this as it had been such an effort to get her there and then to have her want to read in front of all of us seemed so out of character, but she started as I pointed at each word and helped her sound it out.<br />
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Marc and I exchanged shocked/proud/astounded/pleased looks from across the room a few times as she read--tears welling up for both of us as we witnessed what felt like a miracle.<br />
<br />
Hearing Baby's little voice working so hard to read it without my help as much as possible...<br />
<br />
"<span style="background-color: #fdfaf3; border: 0px; color: #575656; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: 35px; vertical-align: baseline;">He was the Great Jehovah of the Old Testament, the Messiah of the New. Under the direction of His Father, He was the creator of the earth. “All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made” (</span><span class="scriptures" style="background-color: #fdfaf3; border: 0px; color: #575656; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; line-height: 20.799999237060547px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: 35px; vertical-align: baseline;"><a class="scripture" href="http://scriptures.lds.org/john/1/3#3" style="border: 0px; color: #5e6c84; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">John 1:3</a></span><span style="background-color: #fdfaf3; border: 0px; color: #575656; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: 35px; vertical-align: baseline;">). Though sinless, He was baptized to fulfill all righteousness. He “went about doing good” (</span><span class="scriptures" style="background-color: #fdfaf3; border: 0px; color: #575656; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; line-height: 20.799999237060547px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: 35px; vertical-align: baseline;"><a class="scripture" href="http://scriptures.lds.org/acts/10/38#38" style="border: 0px; color: #5e6c84; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Acts 10:38</a></span><span style="background-color: #fdfaf3; border: 0px; color: #575656; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.799999237060547px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: 35px; vertical-align: baseline;">)</span><br />
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That's where she ended in the second paragraph, "went about doing good." Then she turned it over to me. You can understand now after seeing the words she read to us that night why we were so amazed at the whole experience.<br />
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I remember thinking to myself while she read, "She's acting like a "legguhlar" kid, does anyone driving by our front window even have a clue at how legguhlar of a family we are right now?"<br />
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After a moment miracle like that, as a parent, you think it's going to be the best Family Home Evening ever so you keep going with the flow and then you are quickly slapped back into reality... remember we have kids with Fragile X Syndrome... I was literally slapped! Ha! Ha! Baby was not cool with me trying to add more on to our Evening and was ready for the closing song and prayer.<br />
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At that moment I realized, "oh ya, we're not legguhlar."<br />
<br />
Tee hee!<br />
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The next night Marc and I took turns going to see Brother cheer at both the Orem High Girls' and Boys' basketball games. Watching Brother cheer with enthusiasm and Fragile-X-like precision I again had that moment of thinking, "He's just a legguhlar teenager." Then 15 minutes later I'm having to wipe his snack off his face because he is unaware it is making him look a bit unsightly.<br />
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At that moment I realized, "oh ya, we're not legguhlar."<br />
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Ha ha!</div>
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On Wednesday my heart leapt with excitement when Baby's friends came to the door to get her for Activity Days and she was so excited to walk over with them to the leader's home down the street. She carried her umbrella out into the rain and talked to her friends as the walked away from the front step and I thought to myself, "she's just a legguhlar 8-year-old girl!"</div>
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An hour later when she came home full of excitement for what she had done with her group of friends, smiling from ear to ear and babbling on about the fun she had, I thought again, "legguhlar!" Then as she bounced up the stairs I noticed her diaper sagging as she bounced...</div>
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At that moment I realized, "oh ya, we're not legguhlar."</div>
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Oh boy!</div>
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On Thursday I had both Brother and Sister's IEP's and 3-year evaluations. One right after the other. Brother's was first and I couldn't stop laughing at his humor as he sat around the table with me, his teacher, and the other administrators and teachers there to meet for him. He was cracking everyone up and really coming up with some good ones. I was so amazed at his quick-witted humor and his hilarious candor. I started thinking, "He's totally a legguhlar teenager!"</div>
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Then we started talking about what was coming up for him and all the things we needed to prepare for...</div>
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At that moment I realized, "oh ya, we're not legguhlar."<br />
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(sigh)</div>
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Right after his IEP came Sister's IEP. We talked and laughed about her adorable personality and all the things that she has improved on and her anxiety levels starting to calm down.</div>
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I have to admit during her IEP I didn't ever think, "She's just a legguhlar 12-year-old." I think I was still on guard after Brother's IEP and my reality check there, but I did remember to bring up to the Speech Pathologist her tendency to pronounce words incorrectly, so we set a goal for that.</div>
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That afternoon when the kids got home the entire basement was empty without carpet or furniture because the insurance workers had come to get our basement ready for new carpet (remember we had a slow leak in the basement back in November and insurance covered the clean up... anyway). Brother, more so than the girls, completely melted and was screaming and crying because it was all changed. Change and transition are rough on all our kids, but when your 18-year-old reacts like a 2-year-old you are reminded, again, "oh ya, we're not legguhlar."</div>
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Friday afternoon our carpet was done and our kids were back into their groove having their house back.<br />
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Saturday morning Sister was looking out our window and yelling, "Look, there's cameras!"<br />
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I rushed over to see what local movie stars were on our street since we had recently had a <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt4514646/?ref_=nv_sr_2" target="_blank">movie filmed in our neighborhood</a> I was looking to see who or what was being filmed.<br />
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This, however, didn't look like a film crew for a movie, it looked like a news crew or some kind of reality show thing... I even thought for a moment that we were going to witness our neighbor receive some kind of cash prize or something and they were filming the reaction for a reality TV show.<br />
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Then I saw the guy in the front that the cameras seemed to be pointing to.<br />
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"That's Mitt Romney!" I exclaimed pointing across our street in excitement and astonishment.<br />
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We were getting ready to go to the temple in Manti and I was planning on doing my make-up on the 2 hour drive in the car so I told Marc he should go out and meet him because I couldn't be seen by Mitt Romney with my make-up not applied! I was so disappointed that I didn't have my make-up on the day that Mitt Romney was walking door-to-door in my neighborhood, but knew that Marc would represent.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">it was windy on temple hill!</td></tr>
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<br />
Marc sure did represent us! While we were gathering our kids and things into the car for the trip Marc had mentioned to me that he had talked to one of the Romney entourage and told her about our kids and Fragile X Syndrome! I was so proud of him! To top that off he had mentioned to her that we were leaving to get somewhere so we wouldn't have a chance to meet him and she responded that "Mitt won't care! Just drive down and he'll talk to you!"<br />
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Sister is very nervous meeting new people and it often brings out her worst anxieties. She assumed since I knew his name and what he looked like from across the street that we "knew" him and were friends with him. When she learned this factoid as we backed out of the driveway she began to yell at Marc and me, calling us liars and saying that this guy was scary and mean. She was in panic mode.<br />
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Now we are where I started... remember, the being yelled at and the window up and down scenario.<br />
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Ya, I was just waiting for Sister to tell Mitt Romney he was mean, for Baby to throw something at him and Brother to roll up Mitt's fingers in the window...<br />
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I giggled uncomfortably at first at these antics as we had just approached the famous, Mitt Romney. I could feel the sense of confusion as to why a grown man would be rolling his window up and down like this and a teenage girl would be yelling that he's a stranger.<br />
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Then I noticed the girl that Marc had talked to in front of our house. I could tell that she was explaining that our kids had Fragile X or special needs or something because they nodded in response and their worried faces turned to laughter and enjoyment at Brother's antics.<br />
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Brother saw that this was making them smile so he continued to entertain them.<br />
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When Mitt Romney finished talking to our neighbor he approached us in our van and leaned in to shake my hand and then Marc's! Our kids were making all sorts of excited noises and Mitt leaned in at Brother's window to say hello to the three of them. Baby, with a happy/joking smile on her face kept saying "You're fired! Yuh-yuh-yuh-you're fired!" I think Mitt was a tad worried at that point and wasn't exactly sure what to say, but I assured him she was just trying to be funny.<br />
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Mitt was out getting signatures for his US Senate run and happened to come to our neighborhood on one of his many stops that day. We signed a petition for him to be able to run and while we did so I started to tell him about Fragile X. He seemed so interested and wanted to know more and then Brother piped up, "Yep, and I'm on the cheer team!" Mitt and Brother had and exchange of words and Brother also told him that they were going to Disneyland for cheer competition next week.<br />
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Brother was so proud to tell him about what he has been doing. He even shook Mitt's hand after their short conversation and we laughed and I told him that he had just made my birthday very memorable. Then I remembered how thankful I was for my dark sunglasses as I still had no make-up on and was having a conversation and joking with Mitt Romney all while being filmed and photographed (crossing my fingers that I was sucking in and that you can't see through the sunglasses that I have no eyelashes).<br />
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Sister kept shyly smiling and looking up at him every so often.<br />
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We drove away star-struck and excited to have met such a genuine man as Mitt Romney. Brother kept saying, "He is a good man. He's a really good person. What a great guy. I really like him. He's a good man. What a good person he is." He was so impressed by Mitt and wants to have him over to our house to have dinner. Frankly, we do too, he was just that kind of a guy.<br />
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I turned to Sister and reaffirmed that even though Mitt Romney was a stranger to us that we now knew him and everything went OK and it was all fine.<br />
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Marc and I praised Brother for talking to Mitt and not being shy, and being excited to tell him about himself.<br />
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And for that moment I felt like we were just a legguhlar family, just like any of the other families in the neighborhood that day who would be excited to meet Mitt Romney and want to get pictures with him and have conversations.<br />
<br />
As I'm having these thoughts and the kids are chit-chatting about the experience in the car just minutes prior I catch Sister saying, "I really like Rit Ronny!"<br />
<br />
Ha ha ha ha!!!<br />
<br />
"Hey Raggy! I just met Rit Ronny!" was what came out of my mouth in a Scooby Doo kind of demeanor.<br />
<br />
We all laughed.<br />
<br />
Sister even laughed, even though she wasn't quite so sure what was so funny about Rit Ronny.<br />
<br />
After all, she had decided he was a nice guy!<br />
<br />
Ya. It was just a "legguhlar" day with "Rit Ronny!"<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinL8SVn1sSl9hf3CjbTBguU14n5M4eZvtVuG19_AKY4EVzvGLBgElt3EG_bsY87tVsI_5RHBJSfpnsTJGLiYwzEH5wj9D6elZN57NoG2ZDISumqFzZSkrb2ds86Ux_OHa1gSXutqcv/s1600/IMG_4538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinL8SVn1sSl9hf3CjbTBguU14n5M4eZvtVuG19_AKY4EVzvGLBgElt3EG_bsY87tVsI_5RHBJSfpnsTJGLiYwzEH5wj9D6elZN57NoG2ZDISumqFzZSkrb2ds86Ux_OHa1gSXutqcv/s640/IMG_4538.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-40523737237272276712018-01-27T13:35:00.002-07:002018-01-27T13:35:43.536-07:00The Greatest SnowmanShe was overstimulated and was switching between being angry and being overbearing so I grabbed her tight in my arms and carried her to her room and we laid down on the her bed where Ranger quickly joined us.<br />
<br />
Baby grabbed my face and looked at me with a smile as her eyes twinkled from the light shining from the hall.<br />
<br />
Rewind a few minutes earlier and she was smacking her siblings in the face, teasing Sister by taking things from her and threatening Brother with her lunges toward him.<br />
<br />
Both Sister and Brother were crying.<br />
<br />
Baby got in trouble for causing the crying so she joined in the chorus.<br />
<br />
That's when I scooped her into my arms to help her escape her stimulation overload.<br />
<br />
As I laid there with Baby in my arms listening to her breathe and watching her tickle Ranger's ears, I started thinking about earlier this morning when she began dancing to some of my favorite music I had playing on my phone before school.<br />
<br />
My kids can make or break me all within moments of each other. I really never know what to expect, but I have learned to savor, remember and engrave the good things to my memory and my heart.<br />
<br />
With these happy thoughts in my head and Baby in my arms I decided to take a big risk and sing to her.<br />
<br />
Singing to Baby is always a risk, because she usually hits me in the face, covers my mouth with her hand or screams at me to stop.<br />
<br />
I thought I'd start quietly with a simple <a href="https://www.lds.org/music/library/childrens-songbook/give-said-the-little-stream?lang=eng" target="_blank">Primary song</a> and to my surprise I actually got through one sentence without her smacking me so I was ready to happily continue singing.<br />
<br />
Then she routinely placed her hand over my mouth and firmly said, "No. ... Snow man." She said while still squeezing my face with her little hands. She loves Frosty the Snowman, I mean LOVES him. She sings the song and watches the movie on YouTube quite often. I was happy to oblige her, but couldn't think of the Frosty song at that moment.<br />
<br />
So I started to sing, "<a href="https://www.lds.org/music/library/childrens-songbook/once-there-was-a-snowman?lang=eng&_r=1" target="_blank">Once there was a snowman</a>, snowman, snowman..."<br />
<br />
Hand over my mouth again.<br />
<br />
"No. Great Snowman,"<br />
<br />
So I thought I'd add actions to my "snowman" song.<br />
<br />
"No. Dancing... Greatest... Snowman."<br />
<br />
Clearly she was trying to tell me to do Frosty, but it still wasn't coming to me. She doesn't do well with the "waiting" process so I knew I didn't have time to think and only to react, I mean, we were having a "moment" here, I couldn't ruin it by upsetting her with waiting while I tried t remember the magical, dancing 'Frosty the Snowman' song. So I sang the Snowman song with more vibrance and added in some hand dancing.<br />
<br />
"No. Mom. Say Great."<br />
<br />
I stopped my hand dancing and complied "Great." I repeated.<br />
<br />
"No. Mom. Gray..."<br />
<br />
"Gray, " I repeated.<br />
<br />
"Gray-test."<br />
<br />
"Greatest," I said with some hesitance.<br />
<br />
"Snowman."<br />
<br />
This time I paused... "Oh, Greatest SHOWman?"<br />
<br />
She was proud of me for figuring it out.<br />
<br />
She had had such a great time dancing to my music this morning and that is the soundtrack I was listening to.<br />
<br />
I brought up my phone and we played music from The Greatest Showman soundtrack.<br />
<br />
It brought new meaning to sing these songs to her while she listened intently and then would pick another song.<br />
<br />
Singing "Never Enough" made me think of all the barriers that will want to hold her back and the strength she'll have to not let them keep her down.<br />
<br />
We listened to "This is Me" and she jumped from the bed to do her interpretive dance.<br />
<br />
Then she laid back down and picked more songs.<br />
<br />
One by one, each song played, some for a few seconds, some for a few sentences and some for most of the song.<br />
<br />
"A Million Dreams" rang out and I marveled at all the dreams she has for herself and others and that wonderful day when she'll be able to express all of that to me.<br />
<br />
This is why I love the movie "<a href="https://youtu.be/PluaPvhkIMU" target="_blank">The Greatest Showman</a>." It is set on encouraging people who are different to be their best selves and to show the talents that they have and to stay true to yourself and others.<br />
<br />
If you listen to the <a href="https://genius.com/Keala-settle-this-is-me-lyrics" target="_blank">words of "This is Me</a>" you will know why it tears at my heart strings. "Hide away, they say... we don't want your broken parts." I'm not scared to be seen... This is Me!" "I won't let them break me down to dust... We are glorious!"<br />
<br />
I know, I know, "The Greatest Showman" is, by no means, a documentary. PT Barnum was not perfect and by no means do I condone everything he did, but I think this movie was not meant to be about mistakes or bad decisions he made. Instead I think this movie, and <a href="https://youtu.be/2F0Vfsq6le0" target="_blank">Hugh Jackman's motivation</a> for it, was to be about the lives he changed, the opinions he tweaked and the talents he helped shine all while being brave enough to be different. There are only some truths mixed in with PT Barnum's most inspirational quotes and the fantastic story line of the movie.<br />
<br />
Guess, what!<br />
<br />
I don't care!<br />
<br />
The entire time I watched this movie I thought of Brother and the opportunity he has to be a "performer" on his cheer team. I am so thankful for people who are willing to embrace my children and let them shine regardless of it being an unconventional way to go about it.<br />
<br />
My life truly is a three-ring circus.<br />
<br />
I can't lie.<br />
<br />
We often have elephants in the room no one wants to address, trapeze artists seeking higher risks to take, a lot of clowning around, critics on the outside, a peanut gallery, and two ringmasters who try to keep it all under the big top.<br />
<br />
I was in heaven singing to Baby while she smiled at me and put her hand on my face. Trust me, this is a first with her. I will treasure this memory for life.<br />
<br />
"The noblest art is that of making others happy." --P.T. Barnum<br />
<br />
May we all aspire to be and do that of the noblest art.<br />
<br />
Our three kids are noble so often and I am so proud of them.<br />
<br />
Brother for your love of cheering people up and cheering them on.<br />
<br />
Sister for making every single person feel like their story is important.<br />
<br />
Baby for sharing your art with those around you everyday.<br />
<br />
I am grateful.<br />
<br />
I am not without trial, despair, heartache or pain.<br />
<br />
But, I am blessed.<br />
<br />
Circus and all.<br />
<br />
I am so glad to be part of the greatest "show" on earth, known as Our Life!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR5cbIBqNqKpVtoXPUMWsXDkR5msxhY9nqT80E9H7AOGkhHmOYZcaanGGDWOSwI1nTCKc-7IJ6QomF8sb3qWHVxkfFoJffq6RUPxngkHbO80xqGPc1sASyIWAdPBUcYAVfj-AeQRoL/s1600/IMG_4259.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR5cbIBqNqKpVtoXPUMWsXDkR5msxhY9nqT80E9H7AOGkhHmOYZcaanGGDWOSwI1nTCKc-7IJ6QomF8sb3qWHVxkfFoJffq6RUPxngkHbO80xqGPc1sASyIWAdPBUcYAVfj-AeQRoL/s640/IMG_4259.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How Brother greeted me in the morning</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKe8iF9Ft2YXxbJygXpOAsN3I7wELAisqSH4jwOGROMli11Qhje67-hjySkQtFTMTjK61ykzibJ39TaCxWEnlFMYIt_nmpkicel1HBiSs8XVIDNttzJKofvUpUph94ktqrNjuygB4S/s1600/IMG_4289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKe8iF9Ft2YXxbJygXpOAsN3I7wELAisqSH4jwOGROMli11Qhje67-hjySkQtFTMTjK61ykzibJ39TaCxWEnlFMYIt_nmpkicel1HBiSs8XVIDNttzJKofvUpUph94ktqrNjuygB4S/s640/IMG_4289.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A picture my friend sent me of Brother waving to her in the crowd</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiApUgPOdGc5cDt5Gel4_0zAlYlmQOrGrDvY2aA6ofQIBYNQiJ5hHJ2tQesIkYQOgopI4GsquBw_sv9m1Y_wqGyc_KjeABMXawWfrTWD5S425p_0UfyKV5wfrsAlIW9tK_ZQ0PIwB9w/s1600/IMG_4287.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiApUgPOdGc5cDt5Gel4_0zAlYlmQOrGrDvY2aA6ofQIBYNQiJ5hHJ2tQesIkYQOgopI4GsquBw_sv9m1Y_wqGyc_KjeABMXawWfrTWD5S425p_0UfyKV5wfrsAlIW9tK_ZQ0PIwB9w/s640/IMG_4287.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">an exciting moment of my two girls wearing shirts I drew for them by request</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5H2U8zFl_NZBeNUkX6sxXwm8KZQZoV5t2Y6vAfuScCp1UC3sc_vBkTvwOFkTwNLADi5Jc9gqKLLoC1ExuNS0LPDhnFahzwQfUe1I1dS4Obthg84imURjtRNfoiMrm_LmJ-Q3cXAJM/s1600/IMG_4297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5H2U8zFl_NZBeNUkX6sxXwm8KZQZoV5t2Y6vAfuScCp1UC3sc_vBkTvwOFkTwNLADi5Jc9gqKLLoC1ExuNS0LPDhnFahzwQfUe1I1dS4Obthg84imURjtRNfoiMrm_LmJ-Q3cXAJM/s640/IMG_4297.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I knew Baby was an artist but finding this little gem in her coloring book got me excited that she really wants to learn it!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdXvaH_9HeiFTtPVFiqBZ9-VGTVjXYUGF3hRL4OzfVR0JRpN1tg1cMPIQFWQhaatdeA0iayoL4x2xz2iholpZOievtrrqwvuSVtrUg63bv9zgF1SOfZfczkPTW-w5vz50F0ibrA2b/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-01-27+at+12.55.12+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="764" data-original-width="940" height="520" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdXvaH_9HeiFTtPVFiqBZ9-VGTVjXYUGF3hRL4OzfVR0JRpN1tg1cMPIQFWQhaatdeA0iayoL4x2xz2iholpZOievtrrqwvuSVtrUg63bv9zgF1SOfZfczkPTW-w5vz50F0ibrA2b/s640/Screen+Shot+2018-01-27+at+12.55.12+PM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just two clips from Sister's day out with a friend of her dancing and singing in the aisles while the toys played music </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4OKetCbxrSmUSKI3cqW6B5h2rioSVL_a5JQFR2Nkg7wu-3FLHJrkjQaMACQ_uJY-18u0YdSghuMlsSMCuBRkP_70G7-m14W_LR9w8vCGA0fTRDLunWfVDvMlJ-r6RTScw2m4EhJ37/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-01-27+at+12.59.05+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1140" data-original-width="954" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4OKetCbxrSmUSKI3cqW6B5h2rioSVL_a5JQFR2Nkg7wu-3FLHJrkjQaMACQ_uJY-18u0YdSghuMlsSMCuBRkP_70G7-m14W_LR9w8vCGA0fTRDLunWfVDvMlJ-r6RTScw2m4EhJ37/s640/Screen+Shot+2018-01-27+at+12.59.05+PM.png" width="534" /></a></div>
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<i><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Want to learn more about Fragile X Syndrome? Click <a href="http://fragile.org/" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></i>
<i><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Want to learn more about Mormons? Click <a href="http://mormon.org/" target="_blank">HERE</a></span></b></i><br />
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<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-48647057948171923612018-01-23T22:32:00.000-07:002018-01-23T22:32:38.836-07:00Handicapped ParkingI used to do it.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm completely guilty.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I had no idea how incredibly inconsiderate and rude I was being with such a simple and lazy action.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I mean, it was just too much work to take my empty grocery cart to the cart stall or back into the store after I had already shopped for 2 hours with a crying, tantrumming, agressively overstimulated child just to buy stuff that would be consumed within the week and then I'd be back again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I mean, come on. Give me a break!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I did not have time to put away my cart.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I read a post several years back about how rude and thoughtless people were who did not return their cart and it really hit me! (Gasp!) I'm that rude and thoughtless person!!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
OK. Granted when I read this post I was not taking young children with special needs into an overstimulating super store and therefore was not as taxed and worn out like I used to be, but I was perfectly capable of putting the cart away.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, I have made it a goal to park close to a cart stall so I can return it easily or close by the front of the store to return it through the front door, all because of someone's ranting post about returning grocery carts.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I TOTALLY get the whole, I can barely get my kids into the carseat and still keep my head on straight let alone even think about returning a stupid cart to the store. Heck, I was lucky sometimes to even remember to get all my groceries, purse or phone out of my cart! I can't tell you how many times I thanked the Lord for honest people when I would leave my purse or food in the cart that I had left by my driver's side door in my desperate escape from mayhem.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One of my happiest moments of service are the times when I get to return a cart for an over-tired, over-worked mom or an older person that seemed to just need help lifting the heavy stuff into their car.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I try not to judge or be mad, because I've been there.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've unknowingly been that "thoughtless" or in my words "desperate and forgetful" person that leaves my cart by my car or in the empty parking stall next to me. Heck, I've even gone to the work of lifting a cart up over the curb so it wouldn't roll away, but would also save me the time of walking 8 stalls over to put the cart away.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, here's my gripe:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Why is it, that lately, I have been noticing the disabled or handicapped parking spots are plum full of grocery carts?!!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Are people really in that big of a fog that they think that there would never be a disabled person who would go shopping.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can just picture the thought process now, "Oh, it's not like this spot gets used that often, I'll just put it here..." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Blech!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was at a store today and there were 6 carts in one handicapped parking stall!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Really?!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I cannot tell you how many times while our kids were growing up that we have wrestled, ran, ducked and covered or literally flown across a parking lot to save our children, who are completely unaware of the danger of the cars in the parking lot, from being hit, smooshed or flattened by one. I have wished many, many times, that we had a handicapped parking pass so that we could have the blessing of being closer to the entry of wherever it is we are going. It would have been such a blessing! I can't imagine what it would be like if our three kids were in wheel chairs and we can't find a place to park because all of the places for us to access easily are crowded by grocery carts!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If you don't have the time, patience or sanity to put your cart away after a long, drawn-out, taxing in more ways than one shopping trip, please, at least put it in a spot that doesn't have a wheel chair painted on it in blue and white.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
OK, that's it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Rant over.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On the bright side, Brother was a lot of fun tonight when we tucked him into bed. He was joking with us and really laughing happily. I love seeing his personality shine! He's a credit to his name and truly brighten's up the world around him.</div>
<div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOh1DhCLoy_Ov-yynEZqo2bxLWAGVqPUx2q5JgbTC5JFZHYFTERBHTD6TfYrklrq_mVNxHXg9hfXe-fhy0FrqgB3d6fgJWbDtDZltMtxeIz4sI06VpdNBxzwb7U7GdXck-TzlP5Pih/s1600/IMG_9510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOh1DhCLoy_Ov-yynEZqo2bxLWAGVqPUx2q5JgbTC5JFZHYFTERBHTD6TfYrklrq_mVNxHXg9hfXe-fhy0FrqgB3d6fgJWbDtDZltMtxeIz4sI06VpdNBxzwb7U7GdXck-TzlP5Pih/s640/IMG_9510.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think his really good mood was credited to him having the opportunity to see a dear friend and get a picture with her! I don't think he stopped smiling since this picture was taken at the game he was cheering at tonight!</td></tr>
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Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-68503986254113898812018-01-21T23:02:00.000-07:002018-01-21T23:02:08.015-07:00Pulling Her LegI pulled her first by her feet and then she grabbed the handle above the van door and it caught my body off guard and I jerked forward and launched my stomach into her feet, but I wasn't going to give up.<br />
<br />
Sounds like I'm trying to escape something horrible doesn't it?<br />
<br />
Well, it was actually just me attempting to get Sister to go to a youth activity at the Bishop's house tonight.<br />
<br />
Brighton ran right in and even waltzed on in without knocking knowing the routine of it all and showing off that this was all "old hat" to him. His 8-year-old sister was galloping behind him in excitement.<br />
<br />
The activity was meant for kids ages 12-18, so Baby has about 4 years before this will be her activity, but she sees her brother and sister going often for youth activities so she just assumes it is for her too.<br />
<br />
I tried to get Baby to stay back in the car with dad while I got the older two to the activity, but it was slightly humorous that our youngest was waltzing in like she owned the place and I was physically having to drag/carry/lunge Sister to the house.<br />
<br />
It was quite a bit of effort just to get her in the door and then I didn't have much fight left in me so I plopped on the floor next to the entry way and held Sister in my arms tightly so she couldn't run away.<br />
<br />
I'm sure it was quite a sight, yet another slightly humorous thing was to watch most of the kids come in, see me wrestling Sister and they would just nonchalantly say "hi" and ask if she was going downstairs for the program and didn't even bat an eye at the fact that her mother was restraining her on the floor of their Bishop's house while screaming "No!" at them when they asked.<br />
<br />
I guess after a few sincere greetings I guess Sister decided it would be OK to go down when our neighbor girls (dear friends) greeted her and reach out their hands to pull her up from the floor and she was good to go.<br />
<br />
Baby was all settled in and did not want to leave the youth so the Bishop suggested she could just stay. Marc and I sat and talked to his wife and daughter upstairs while all the kids were downstairs talking with the Bishop on spiritual matters.<br />
<br />
It turned out to be a great outing. The kids were happy to be with friends and Baby was ecstatic to be with the big kids and Marc and I enjoyed our conversation with friends. Sister acted as if there was never a struggle or aversion to going to the activity, especially when she realized some deliciously gooey brownies were involved.<br />
<br />
Earlier today while visiting Marc's parents we played 4 rounds of dominoes and Marc even played with us. Marc is not a HUGE game fan so it's always fun to get him involved.<br />
<br />
It was a good day overall.<br />
<br />
I just have to not think about driving this morning to meet my mom for a performance at a missionary farewell only to find out that we were told the wrong time so all the stuff I went through to get myself and the family ready this morning in order to get to the performance on time and had caused high stress on my part and not exactly a lot of quiet patience was now all in vain. And I'm going to ignore that my ankle hurts a bit after contorting at the right angles to get Sister from the van tonight.<br />
<br />
Well... OK, I'm not going to ignore it, I'm just going to laugh about it.<br />
<br />
I'm guess I'm just accepting the fact that Heavenly Father knows how much I enjoy a great adventure!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCEpKvml9D5x-QuVJefJ_ouWLZRCTvnnQrkht7pQRdNFOxqsY6YCw3tIOzBmQj5y-L6VU9LBlU54dFD7iQ4AwCgnxpQyH54wEV_2T9dxrduVVZAv0O9lK4q7Ezk5z50kHtLsy1bt6D/s1600/IMG_4033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCEpKvml9D5x-QuVJefJ_ouWLZRCTvnnQrkht7pQRdNFOxqsY6YCw3tIOzBmQj5y-L6VU9LBlU54dFD7iQ4AwCgnxpQyH54wEV_2T9dxrduVVZAv0O9lK4q7Ezk5z50kHtLsy1bt6D/s640/IMG_4033.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A happy girl showing off her double stroller that Grandma Judy found.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-48197193063640067072018-01-06T00:55:00.000-07:002018-01-06T00:55:46.571-07:00Completely SurroundedHave you ever heard the saying, "When it rains, it pours"?<br />
<br />
If you haven't, well, it's not exactly referring to actual weather, but to trials, tribulations or hardships... you know, saying that it can't just be one, but many that seem to come all at once or in immediate succession.<br />
<br />
I've heard this reference my whole life for one reason or other.<br />
<br />
I use it myself a lot.<br />
<br />
Well, for the last while I felt completely surrounded by rain. I used to be able to honestly laugh about the ridiculousness of the piling on of trials, but somewhere around July of 2017, I lost it.<br />
<br />
I was good at faking the laugh, the humor, the ironic insinuations, but I was truly letting it, deep down, take its toll.<br />
<br />
Completely surrounded.<br />
<br />
Behavior issues rising for one kid, new obsessions for the other while aggressiveness and oppositional, defiant attitudes are in another.<br />
<br />
Stress over Brother's guardianship--the cost and the endeavor.<br />
<br />
How to get Brother and whether to get Brother on his Cheer Competition trip AND his choir tour with the heavy-laden-guilt pushing on our shoulders that this may be his only opportunity for this type of peer interaction and activity for the rest of his entire life!<br />
<br />
Surgery on my ankle that I had been trying to avoid for almost 9 months was impending and the preparations to be made beforehand were daunting and overwhelming.<br />
<br />
Two weeks or so before my surgery our dishwasher broke. Because of our financial situation we decided we could just do dishes by hand and that we would just use paper plates and cups after my surgery to cut down on Marc's responsibilities.<br />
<br />
Two days before my surgery we discovered that our basement had had a slow leak from our water softener that had caused mold problems and required repair and clean-up. This was a cost that was just adding to our legal costs for guardianship and the costs for my surgery on top of the costs for Brother's upcoming high school excursions.<br />
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<br />
One week post surgery the company coming to clean up our mold problem found that it was more extensive than originally perceived and was going to take more time and more space and was going to encroach on our children's routine and comfort level.<br />
<br />
Two weeks post surgery and I ended up in the Emergency Room for unexplained severe pain that no one could help me with so the following morning my mom rushed me to the doctor and we forced our way into the office to be seen only to find out that the doctor hadn't given me the necessary things needed for proper healing at my recent 2-week follow-up appointment. Upon hearing of my situation my sister-in-law, Chelsea, came to the rescue with food and cleaning and keeping kids happy when we realized (after Chelsea was trying to cook bread sticks to go with her home-made chili) that our oven was broken. So now half my kitchen was caput.<br />
<br />
Because of the meds I was using for post surgery I wasn't able to rely on my fake sense of humor and I was going down quickly.<br />
<br />
Having to talk to the lawyer during this time about all the reasons that Brother could not take care of himself after age 18 didn't help out my depressive situation either.<br />
<br />
Sounds like such a drag, huh.<br />
<br />
I mean, I can barely read through it.<br />
<br />
I hate hearing about all the trials people go through.<br />
<br />
It wears me out.<br />
<br />
But, that's the thing, I've only been telling you about being surrounded by the rain, the trials, the tribulations, the broken appliances and mold.<br />
<br />
But now I want you to see the other side of this long drawn-out few months of never-ending struggle.<br />
<br />
You see, really, we were completely surrounded by ...<br />
<br />
angels.<br />
<br />
Completely.<br />
<br />
Surrounded.<br />
<br />
By Angels.<br />
<br />
Angels everywhere.<br />
<br />
Friends set-up a fundraiser to help raise funds for Brother's high school activities and money was raised by other friends and family so fast that we were able to pay all of his way for both trips!<br />
<br />
Visits with our wonderful pediatrician shone hope for our kids with different ideas for meds and behavior ideas.<br />
<br />
Miraculously we have one of the few home insurances that covered mold caused by an inside leak and all we had to pay was our deductible. To top of that blessing of good insurance, our deductible for the mold removal and restoration was paid for by an angel that I hope will be continually blessed for their generosity.<br />
<br />
We had an angel buy a used, but awesome, dishwasher for us to replace our broken one after 2 months of doing dishes by hand.<br />
<br />
Because of all the angelic caregivers we have who love our children I was able to arrange for plenty of help for the kids so that I could heal from the surgery.<br />
<br />
The night I was in so much pain post surgery our dear friend ran over to help Marc give me a Priesthood blessing of healing. I was shortly after relieved enough of pain that we were able to get to the ER without too much of a scene.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VyhimrI-3ZwAt67fhRa1JwbPA6uab-9NxHUG_XsigWoe31GONY4fHHo1OGKMX9w6qp7xgq6ctUrLoZ_9STLoOtlS2oW69dF0yjsi5VBCn-rnYoBxHCC9rPv7vWjmVuu_3o4DE4rm/s1600/IMG_2644.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VyhimrI-3ZwAt67fhRa1JwbPA6uab-9NxHUG_XsigWoe31GONY4fHHo1OGKMX9w6qp7xgq6ctUrLoZ_9STLoOtlS2oW69dF0yjsi5VBCn-rnYoBxHCC9rPv7vWjmVuu_3o4DE4rm/s640/IMG_2644.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Sister, Kirsten came and painted my toes all fancy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnt-sOdP-rvHzSikZNBWebNFqPJUCjr4PPb0mRYgr8BvfXknYdq_WEft1LF_rLM83nLb8O75UIKi4WUtMvR-wMy8z0kdo5mjAQ_yZrz39Rb2s-6NXAEZcQ7iHkGyC9AkipTKiNnAW1/s1600/IMG_2700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnt-sOdP-rvHzSikZNBWebNFqPJUCjr4PPb0mRYgr8BvfXknYdq_WEft1LF_rLM83nLb8O75UIKi4WUtMvR-wMy8z0kdo5mjAQ_yZrz39Rb2s-6NXAEZcQ7iHkGyC9AkipTKiNnAW1/s640/IMG_2700.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Documenting progress</td></tr>
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<br />
I was able to find lawyers for our guardianship case that were lower-cost than most and I also found out that Brother's lawyer has ties to people here in our neighborhood and helped me feel more comfortable about the whole situation.<br />
<br />
Sadly, my depression was still in full swing and I was starting to lose hope as this seemed to be the longest period of depression I had gone through with no sign of the end insight, and as silly as it sounds, my depression deepened because I couldn't pull myself out of the darkness I was in even while so many people were doing everything they could to lighted our burdens and take upon themselves our heavy load.<br />
<br />
Then there was the day of the wheel chair...<br />
<br />
My mom turned my whole life around by a simple wheel-chair escapade to the mall.<br />
<br />
That day is where my whole world flipped and I was able to finally, truly smile again, with all the honesty I had, and laugh from the heart and feel love for myself again and exploding love for my mom and all my family.<br />
<br />
I never pictured myself laughing with my heart full of love while I was pushed around the mall in a wheel chair, but here I was, down in a chair while feeling on top of the world!<br />
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<br />
I wish I could explain how or truly why my whole depression was lifted so immediately and dramatically, but the only answer I can give is that we were completely surrounded...<br />
<br />
by angels...<br />
<br />
I know that my mom was guided in every step she took to cheer me up that day, and not just to lift my burden to but to lighten my mind and heart. I had so many reasons to be happy, I mean, if you've followed me on instagram or facebook you darn well all the things I have to be happy about.<br />
<br />
I hadn't told my mom about the heaviness I felt in my heart because of the memory loss I have been facing the last while, yet she was inspired to bring her guitar and we sang songs that triggered memories I thought were lost.<br />
<br />
I didn't tell my mom that I just needed me time because I didn't realize I did and she completely focused on me all of her attention and energy.<br />
<br />
I didn't know that jokingly sitting on Santa's lap at the mall with my mom and telling him what I wanted for Christmas would be so therapeutic, but it brought back that child-like trust and innocently honest joy I hadn't felt in so long.<br />
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<br />
I would never have admitted that I secretly hold a little hope in every fortune cookie I open, but to read the particular one that we opened at our little lunch we shared together at the mall's food court would be so revealing and heart-warming as it was. I took a picture of it to remember it and I have noticed since then that I have taken photos of the fortune cookies I open and and inspired by.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
I wish I would have written every tiny detail down that day so that I would remember every moment of what made that day so special, but I am happy that I took a few videos that I excitedly shared with the facebook world. I'm positive that those who watched my facebook live post of my mom and I singing our hearts out, laughing and joking together that they were witnessing the healing of someone before their very eyes.<br />
<br />
Everything after this point was seen through different eyes, felt by a renewed heart and heard by blessed ears.<br />
<br />
Yes, our basement is still in total disarray as we wait way too long for the company to come and finish the job.<br />
<br />
I'm learning to cook on "BROIL" in our broken oven and realizing all the fancy settings our microwave has.<br />
<br />
I was out of my boot sooner after surgery than I thought I would be and was able to volunteer in the kids' classes before Christmas and that was such a joy!<br />
<br />
The humility of accepting financial help was softened as I realized the blessings people were receiving for helping us in our time of need.<br />
<br />
"When it rains, it pours."<br />
<br />
That's what they say.<br />
<br />
I always try to say, "Then sink or swim."<br />
<br />
Now I know that I have to just accept that sometimes I am completely surrounded by the storms of life, but at that same time I am completely surrounded by angels, heavenly and earthly, who are ready to help me swim, or even float to until the storms die down, or sometimes, in my case, keep my head above the water long enough to see the light through the darkness of depression.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE8-PGRZn0KeQajUr6QfptPeqNJ1H4Vf9OokK_BtlZQj1fKzY6vfi3ku_5w68y7qtbV8lyoXBRvr7EdKL0_4IT2kFYi0o3xu1X8GhodxfnBb58uW4ehhuLw7OzTxV71QEatAvjZAQV/s1600/IMG_2462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE8-PGRZn0KeQajUr6QfptPeqNJ1H4Vf9OokK_BtlZQj1fKzY6vfi3ku_5w68y7qtbV8lyoXBRvr7EdKL0_4IT2kFYi0o3xu1X8GhodxfnBb58uW4ehhuLw7OzTxV71QEatAvjZAQV/s640/IMG_2462.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">by Jessie (my sister)</td></tr>
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<br />
A wise man, whom I love, admire and respect, passed away this week. In an article I read about him was this quote and it seemed to fit my blog entry today:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">"My counsel for all of us is to look to the lighthouse of the Lord," he once said. "There is no fog so dense, no night so dark, no gale so strong, no mariner so lost but what its beacon light can rescue. It beckons through the storms of life. The lighthouse of the Lord sends forth signals readily recognized and never failing."</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">— <a href="https://www.lds.org/people/thomas-s-monson/memorial?cid=HP_3_1_2018_dPAAST_fANN-MNSN_xLIDyMSTHD_&lang=eng" target="_blank">Thomas S. Monson (LDS prophet Feb. 2008 - Jan. 2018)</a></span><br />
<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-84723868734647463552017-11-16T23:10:00.001-07:002017-11-16T23:17:25.422-07:00The Ruby "Woo!"Life grabbed me by the feet and flipped me upside down and threw me into a tail spin.<br />
<br />
I thought I had life planned out when I was 18.<br />
<br />
Such a funny thought.<br />
<br />
How would I even know what to plan for life at 18?<br />
<br />
Now 23? Ya, 23 is when you can plan your life. You know then. I mean, you've now experienced real life for 5 years, and besides, I just had my first baby. I now had his life planned out too.<br />
<br />
Marc and I would dream together about all it meant to have a son. You know how it is, and if you don't know, you dream of how it is, either way, you have "plans" of what you will do with your kids, what you hope they'll do, what you hope they will become.<br />
<br />
Such a strange thought.<br />
<br />
How would we ever know what to plan for our children's lives?<br />
<br />
But at 40, I mean, really, you definitely know what you're doing. You're a veteran. A pro. An experienced liaison in this business of life. I mean, we have 3 children with special needs, Fragile X Syndrome. We know the ways to push and inspire and even sneakily trick our offspring into doing hard things, great things, new things.<br />
<br />
Funny that we thought we knew what we were doing.<br />
<br />
Why did I assume that just because our son has Fragile X Syndrome that our life would never be full of "typical" parental experiences like watching your son cheer at a Football game for his high school or take girls out on dates to the school dances?<br />
<br />
But, we're handling it OK. It's overwhelming to go from one extreme to the other, but we are surviving so I guess it will be OK to move on with our lives and get done what we need to...<br />
<br />
So... after 9 months of dealing with the aftermath of a sprained ankle I decided I would give in to the doctors recommendations and the advice of an MRI to have surgery done. I mean, this would be my 8th surgery in my life, I got this. I know what it takes to heal from a surgery. I know how my body responds. I prepared meals ahead of time for the kids. I arranged respite care to help me before and after school for 2 weeks until my follow-up appointment where I knew I would be told that I had done so well that I can just start walking without crutches in the boot...<br />
<br />
When will I learn that I can't plan on anything?<br />
<br />
When will I realize that life has it's own plan-maker?<br />
<br />
I'm sitting in the ER right now waiting to hear why, after getting my splint/cast off yesterday, did I experience the most excruciating pain I've ever felt in my life 2 weeks AFTER my surgery was done?<br />
<br />
---pause for x-rays and doctor's report---<br />
<br />
I'm fine. Just a big baby. More pain meds and a doctor visit to the surgeon tomorrow to find out what my problem is.<br />
<br />
Anyway, the reason I am telling you all this is because before the extreme pain and the freaky circus my day became today (I'll save you the details and long sordid story.) I was inspired.<br />
<br />
Really inspired.<br />
<br />
Not like spiritually or an "aha" moment... I was inspired to write.<br />
<br />
I haven't felt that for a long time. I've let my urges to write fall by the wayside so that I could be there for Brother and all that he is doing in his amazing Senior year! And to hold Sister's hand through the whirlwind we call Junior High and try to understand the world that Baby lives in.<br />
<br />
But today my mom shared a really great song with me and I was so proud of it that I gave her the, what I am calling, "The Ruby 'Woo.'"<br />
<br />
My maternal grandmother's name is Ruby. She was such an optimistic woman. I mean, she found a reason to be happy in any and all circumstances. We all loved to do things for her to make her smile. You always knew it was really good when she'd clap joyfully while smiling her beautiful smile and and then give a warm and jovial "Woo!" or "Woo hoo hoo!"<br />
<br />
It was her signature.<br />
<br />
Literally.<br />
<br />
It was as if after each performance we did for her whether it was a somersault on her front lawn or singing on stage she was signing off on our good deed with her Ruby "Woo!"<br />
<br />
Amidst the pain and frustration I was feeling today I was sent an inspired post that someone had written about our son, his teacher, and his cheer leading team, but especially him.<br />
<br />
I've shared many videos recently on social media about his accomplishments and various things that have happened that make me smile and sigh in awe thinking of the plans I thought we had for him and then didn't have for him and then ... oh my...<br />
<br />
But you guys, this person touched my heart on a day that I don't think could have been worse, but it made me cry grateful, happy tears. These words are the only thing that kept me on the positive side, the optimistic side of life today.<br />
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You just can't plan your life.</div>
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Yes, you can prepare for your future, you can set yourself up for hopeful outcomes, but don't plan your life.</div>
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If my life had gone as I had planned I would never have read the words in the image above and known that it was our son that had touched those people's hearts.</div>
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And to that I give a Ruby "Woo!"</div>
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That's the highest form of appreciation, adoration, and admiration that I can think of.</div>
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"Woo! You did it son! Woo hoo hoo!"</div>
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<i>If you are interested in any of the posts that I mentioned here are the links:</i></div>
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<a href="https://live.ksl.com/event/?v=30488" target="_blank">Brother dancing at the half time for the High School 4a football game - Orem vs. Sky View</a><br />
(go to the 1:09:28 time mark to see the beginning of Orem's half time routine)<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/ksltv/videos/10156245187388676/?comment_id=10214640236670493&notif_id=1510891476123568&notif_t=feed_comment" target="_blank">Brother, his teacher, his classmates and me on a little local news thing to honor Mrs. Glahn</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/judy.reimschiissel/videos/897327553776022/" target="_blank">My mom's Christmas song</a><br />
<br />Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-82702180779029573242017-09-19T00:20:00.000-06:002017-09-19T07:01:24.075-06:00Yelling at AngelsMy mom and I have decided that it's in the genes.<br />
<br />
The weirdest, most random and bazaar things happen to us at the most inopportune moments.<br />
<br />
I don't quite know how to explain it, but if something is going to go wrong, it will probably be me or my mom who cause it... not on purpose... oh no... certainly not.<br />
<br />
That's what makes it all so amazing is that it is completely coincidental.<br />
<br />
I would say that my mom has the gene stronger than I do, but I have it bad enough that I can make her laugh at my mishaps.<br />
<br />
It's always when I'm in a hurry... always.<br />
<br />
Yesterday getting the kids and myself ready for church proved to be a feat that was beginning to look near impossible.<br />
<br />
I had gotten all the kids ready to go so now it was my turn to hurry up and get ready in the 30 minutes I had before church started and we try hard to get there at least 15 minutes early, so really I had 15 minutes to get ready. Ya, ya, save your thoughts of, "It doesn't even take me 15 minutes to get ready" you can keep those comments to yourselves because that is something else my mom and I share in our genes is that we can't exactly pull off the no make-up and a messy bun look... trust me... we know it... you shouldn't have to...<br />
<br />
Anyway, back to my story: I now had 15 minutes to pick out a dress, get dressed into it, put on make-up and get my frizzed hair tamed enough not to look like I'd rubbed my head on the carpet.<br />
<br />
BUT!!<br />
<br />
There's always a "but."<br />
<br />
Because my children were melting that the 100 pages I had printed off yesterday were now all colored, I just HAD to print off more coloring pages for them because, heaven forbid that life go on without coloring.<br />
<br />
So at that point I was getting a little edgy because I was having to take time to find the coloring pages they wanted so that we wouldn't have a major melt-down at church caused by not having enough ninja turtles or my little ponies to decorate.<br />
<br />
It took me at least 5 minutes to get some pages picked out. I started them all to print and told Brother to watch for the prints to come out and he was to give a fair share of coloring pages to his sisters.<br />
<br />
I was now down to 3 minutes before 1:00. And it was going to take me at least one of those to get down the stairs and into the van of my waiting family members. Realizing I had no time to shower I had to forgo shaving my legs so I had no choice but to wear a really long dress or skirt. (Sorry to anyone who sat by me... I hope we are still friends.) After mulling for a few quick seconds over what I had in my closet I decided that I felt like wearing a really awesome flowy, colorful, fully twirl-able skirt - the epitome of the complete opposite of how I was feeling.<br />
<br />
After I got dressed I realized I was going to need to get in the car and just do my make up in there.<br />
<br />
I grab my make-up and church bag for the kids an start to rush out my door when suddenly I am yanked back full force at the height of my ankles and almost topple to the ground as I am off balance with my full church bag full of discarded coloring pages I forgot to empty last week and books to use as their desks as well as multiple sensory toys for moments of melting because the coloring pages ran out before the closing prayer in Sacrament meeting.<br />
<br />
I look down and my really cool, really long, beautifully colored Hippie skirt has whipped its way just enough under the door to catch on the bottom corner and lodge me into space! Who in the heck manages to catch the bottom of their skirt at the bottom corner of a door? Me or my mom, that's who.<br />
<br />
At that point my frustration levels are already high because nothing this morning has gone very right so far... so my patience is waning.<br />
<br />
Oh but it gets better. As I leave my room I notice that none of the bedroom doors are closed and I know Marc is waiting in the van with the kids so I can't holler at anyone to shut them for me so that Ranger doesn't chew on anyone's toys. So I sashay down the hall after closing my bedroom door, then Baby's, then the bathroom's and my skirt is swishing and swaying with quite the sound effect as I rush to each door to close it.<br />
<br />
Sister's was the last door to close and because I was beginning to get a little bit of joy from the sounds and feel of my happy skirt, I closed Sister's door with a little bit of style... like with a half turn, a flick and smile as if I were in a Disney musical.<br />
<br />
The doors are all shut and I finish out my victory turn and... "zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzppptt! Wham! Bang!"<br />
<br />
I had shut my skirt in the door and I was a tad bit miffed that because the "every action has an opposite and equal reaction" scenario I was flung into the wall smacking my head on the corner of the doorway and tweaked my neck in the whole turning, fumbling, getting stuck experience.<br />
<br />
And did I mention the skirt got thoroughly stuck in the hinge side of the door... not the typical shut your skirt in the door kind of experience... wait... is there a typical shut your skirt in the door kind of experience?<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Anyway.<br />
<br />
Keep all that in mind.<br />
<br />
My mom and I also always joke that the angels watching us get a good laugh every so often when we do stupid things and tease that they help cause the mischief that gets us into these situations. I guess it's our way of being able to laugh at how unlucky we seem to be at times.<br />
<br />
Now back to having my skirt stuck in the door...<br />
<br />
I was so mad at this point that instead of just opening the door to release its grip on my skirt I puuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuull it out of the door.<br />
<br />
So after dramatically... and I do mean dramatically... wrenching the skirt from the door I start to get really steamed.<br />
<br />
So I yelled at the angels to "knock it off!" and "stop laughing!"<br />
<br />
Yup, I had lost it. I was now yelling at angels.<br />
<br />
After getting in the van, I am privy to understanding that there has been a melt-down in the car because Sister doesn't have the coloring page she wanted...<br />
<br />
"What?!!" I just spent my time looking for coloring sheets to print for each child and Brother has the audacity to hog the entire pile of coloring pages so now my frustration level is high. I quickly grabbed his stack of coloring pages and flipped through to get Sister's pages to her and calm her down.<br />
<br />
Wait... I thought I printed more than this... I turned to ask Brother if he had grabbed all the pages in the tray and then realized that the printer must have run out of paper.<br />
<br />
!@#$^&%!<br />
<br />
Marc stops the van in front of the house (because we didn't get very far yet) and I stopped and mumbled under my breath wondering why nothing was going right this morning.<br />
<br />
Low and behold, when I got in there, it was indeed out of paper.<br />
<br />
I loaded the paper and waited while rolling my eyes and bouncing my knee with impatience.<br />
<br />
Finally printed.<br />
<br />
I run up the stairs...<br />
<br />
Yep.<br />
<br />
I tried to run up the stairs.<br />
<br />
Did I seriously forget what had happened 10 minutes previous because of my flowing skirt?<br />
<br />
One big face plant away from a nose reconstruction I was able to catch myself.<br />
<br />
Quietly, in my head, I thanked the angels for, at least, catching me before it got bad and then picked up my skirt like a proper lady and walked quickly back out to the van.<br />
<br />
I wish I could give you a really inspirational happy ending like:<br />
<br />
And when I got back into the van I looked around me to realize that I had angels all around me... our children...<br />
<br />
but they were still falling apart and yelling at each other and grating on mine and Marc's nerves.<br />
<br />
Nothing, was really going to change but my attitude.<br />
<br />
So I write these things down so that people can laugh at how amazing I am at getting my dress caught on and in doors. In fact it reminds me of how talented I am at getting the front pockets of my jeans or even a belt loop stuck and the little thing-y that keeps a door closed. I'm amazing at that. Truly, I am.<br />
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I'll just try to keep the yelling at angels thing at a minimum...Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-59970739552535015522017-08-31T00:03:00.000-06:002017-09-20T12:50:00.023-06:00Moments of WinningWell, Brighton made it through the dental experience on Monday.<br />
<br />
Not exactly with flying colors mind you, unless you count the vomit that kept coming for an hour after he awoke...<br />
<br />
But one thing that was very endearing to me was that he was wanting me to hold him and hug him to help him feel better. I'm sure a little bit of it was the meds and a little bit of it was his anxiety, but I'm thankful that a lot of it was because I'm Mom.<br />
<br />
He's been hugging me more lately.<br />
<br />
Not his typical back into my arms hug so that I can kiss the back of his head and try to squeeze him quick as he wrestles away, these are full-on hugs! And he is getting so tall! He doesn't have a lot of meat on him, but he has long, manly arms and big hands and it is such an experience to have him give me real hugs and truly realize that he is not just a boy anymore.<br />
<br />
Those are the kinds of things I notice for signs of growing up.<br />
<br />
Our life isn't exactly typical so we don't measure success typically either.<br />
<br />
I love talking with other parents of children with special needs because we love to giggle about how we celebrate such, seemingly to others, small milestones and accomplishments.<br />
<br />
Like this milestone of being able to do a fancy hairdo on Baby and not have her take it out while screaming and pulling at her hair 5 minutes after it's done...<br />
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Sometimes I think I should try standup comedy and just talk about parenting children with special needs and how I say a lot of the same things that parents of typical kids say, like, "You need to learn to go potty!" -- only the one you're saying it to is almost 8 and not 2. Or "Stop licking your fingers and then dipping your hand in the lemonade!" -- only this is said to your 17-year-old who loves lemonade and this is at the restaurant and it wasn't even his lemonade... or yours... Or the experience of trying to calm your daughter who is terrified of new social situations and you are in a public place and everyone is turning to see what toddler is throwing a melt-down and they realize it's what they see as "A spoiled preteen not wanting to be seen with her parents."<br />
<br />
I don't think I'll ever get over having to wipe food off my almost 18-year-old's face while trying not to draw too much a attention to the spit I'm using to wipe away the crusties from the meal previous that I forgot to wipe his mouth from.<br />
<br />
Oh, and what about those cute leggings my daughter loves to wear and they look so cute on her until her diaper starts to sag and it looks like she's packing something back there... Baby got back!<br />
<br />
Oh, the funny of Our Life.<br />
<br />
Sister told me today that she didn't want to go to a Young Women's activity. I explained to her that they were doing yoga (one of her favorite exercises) and she says, "Nope! I hate yoga! Always hate yoga. No yoga for me. No yoga for you. No yoga!" These desperate shouts were closely followed by stomping, wailing and gnashing of teeth... quite literally.<br />
<br />
Then when her ride showed up she was all smiles, got excited to say "hello" and bounced to her seat.<br />
<br />
She puts a whole new spin on the emotional "teenage girl"... trust me.<br />
<br />
Then I get a note from Baby's teacher saying that she was "grabbing another students butt" and when told not to do it she "Shushed" the teacher and said "no."<br />
<br />
Oh boy.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First day of 7th Grade at the Junior High!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaNjy7WkPIVVDICUCtEZcP4s4S2-rvWSviVfRAzAN1bIEz2E5tuBjPVrGMTPMvP5jbNXzU3Rtw1Fq76idToJ1pnp3WM_ELbYCIdvlYYtSzrkTrpWtA1xcryd1uWwFR10tgIFhqH4D/s1600/IMG_9643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggaNjy7WkPIVVDICUCtEZcP4s4S2-rvWSviVfRAzAN1bIEz2E5tuBjPVrGMTPMvP5jbNXzU3Rtw1Fq76idToJ1pnp3WM_ELbYCIdvlYYtSzrkTrpWtA1xcryd1uWwFR10tgIFhqH4D/s640/IMG_9643.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First Day of second grade and being on her own at the elementary Sister graduated from.<br />
(I guess that's her "game face" to prep for the sport of school)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5U-R2NSOmHz9m991Z0mNr1olajAY9DhXreMbas4lUEBh-7CpCGEz1Z-wO7bzPGIHhmiX19WJjssFUDM6EBXx8KrmddzJ6c0-8Im3C_MUv6E89Tbp23IK7xAaUHucZHwrFLLh2AafA/s1600/IMG_9646.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5U-R2NSOmHz9m991Z0mNr1olajAY9DhXreMbas4lUEBh-7CpCGEz1Z-wO7bzPGIHhmiX19WJjssFUDM6EBXx8KrmddzJ6c0-8Im3C_MUv6E89Tbp23IK7xAaUHucZHwrFLLh2AafA/s640/IMG_9646.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Lou! He's been one of our kids bus driver's every school year since we moved here in 2012.<br />
He just takes turns each year. This year Baby gets the privilege.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Never a dull moment... well, it may get a little dull at times... but if I let it get dull for too long, then the depression starts to sneak in. So, I've decided that not only do I laugh when something is funny, but keep the dullness lively by laughing then too... OK, at least smiling... not creepy like a girl sitting in the middle of the room staring blankly at the wall while smiling a overly big, toothy grin... Ew. Creepers.<br />
<br />
Anyway, sometimes I get very overwhelmed by our tasks at hand and I doubt my knowledge, abilities and experience.<br />
<br />
Then I have a friend contact me to ask how things are going and I share the latest experience and copy my response to Baby's teacher:<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">We started her on an anxiety medicine this summer which has given her the benefit of more speech and communication, but it has also added to her need for sensory input. I guess her anxieties held her back a bit and now she just goes for it! So, yes, as much sensory as possible. I will start making sure to give her deep sensory input in the mornings before she gets on the bus in the morning and I'll report to you when I do to see if it helps at all. It may also be a good idea to give her some strong sensory input when she gets off the bus, i.e. a big bear hug, time on the swing or wrapping tight in a blanket, etc.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">I'm positive she's testing her limits, but she does need deep/pressure sensory input at least every 30 minutes. More if it's a rough day. A weighted vest or lap pad can help too.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">And at home if she sasses we tell her firmly but gently (or she breaks into hysterical tears) "Baby, no. We don't talk like that. Use your nice words."</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">And when she does her babble or baby talk we remind her to talk like a big girl.</span></i><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.800000190734863px;"><br /></span>
Then our friend reassures me that that was exactly what I should say and that I was right.<br />
<br />
Mom win moment.<br />
<br />
Let's all think about that success...<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
Yep, that was a moment of silence for quick passing of that "win" moment.<br />
<br />
I don't always have "win" moments.<br />
<br />
Rarely, really.<br />
<br />
But, I guess winning the war is about all the battles you stand to fight, so if you put it in perspective that I have been parenting for almost 18 years that's about 215 mom wins if I give myself a generous average of one win per month...<br />
<br />
Blah... who am I kidding. I am no numbers person.<br />
<br />
I'm all about the feels. If I stay positive I feel like I'm winning a fair amount of the time.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cuWLPfKuz6dpytC4t_X5-Tlkw1rddq6sP3Kw7o8SBvyYpqxyYd0wn81B45RD5hwse4kXr5MziQx758Jjri2J0gjeO1ZxPyFjJhInAOWBoId-2X4DMSnmYtVSO-itPim5o5-N8-dl/s1600/IMG_9767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1278" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cuWLPfKuz6dpytC4t_X5-Tlkw1rddq6sP3Kw7o8SBvyYpqxyYd0wn81B45RD5hwse4kXr5MziQx758Jjri2J0gjeO1ZxPyFjJhInAOWBoId-2X4DMSnmYtVSO-itPim5o5-N8-dl/s640/IMG_9767.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had to take this pic of him while waiting for them to take him back to the surgery room, but I wish this photo had sound so you could her the movie "RIO" cranked up load... and yes the TV is about 2 feet from his face.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
If I'm being negative I probably won't be counting the "mom wins," let alone be grateful for them. As long as I keep moving forward and upward through my battles and not fall and roll back down, I'm going to stay positive about it.<br />
<br />
So I guess I'm writing this to myself as I am trying to stay positive knowing that the decision was made today that surgery does need to be done on my ankle.<br />
<br />
Yep.<br />
<br />
That one I hurt all the way back in January of this year, it's not healing, so surgery it must be.<br />
<br />
Sigh.<br />
<br />
I hate surgery.<br />
<br />
More than surgery, I hate anesthesia.<br />
<br />
You remember at the beginning of this post when I talked about Brother's "flying colors."<br />
<br />
Ya.<br />
<br />
Who's going to hold my vomit bag and bear hug me while I have vomit dangling from my lip?<br />
<br />
Maybe Brother will.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-5198384835842623132017-08-28T10:20:00.002-06:002017-08-30T22:48:42.236-06:00Variation on a DreamI've been wanting/needing/dreaming of blogging for so long.<br />
<br />
I'm here at the surgery center so that Brother can have some dental work done and I brought my laptop because I knew I'd have some downtime while waiting for him and thought it was a great idea to blog.<br />
<br />
Now as I sit down to write about everything that has touched my heart, tickled my funny bone, dented my spirits, or harshly shown our reality are all memories that are, at the moment, not remembered.<br />
<br />
Sigh.<br />
<br />
So my hope of inward retrospection from what has been our life lately is not there... right now.<br />
<br />
Right now I just sent Brother with the dentist and anesthesiologist on his way to the waiting room.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgag7vS0clZn3h1qQRYI1CQdOftJY_N7Vin3HfyAQp4dmY3iw8T8GcBYezz3ZJqc4FZl742TZuO4RQoVB4izCXsHdEH3f3Cr7vviVr3hY5NW4_rkIqZp7heyx-1nHp-gZdf9GStYkmb/s1600/21083437_10213978173399325_3551734514695015880_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgag7vS0clZn3h1qQRYI1CQdOftJY_N7Vin3HfyAQp4dmY3iw8T8GcBYezz3ZJqc4FZl742TZuO4RQoVB4izCXsHdEH3f3Cr7vviVr3hY5NW4_rkIqZp7heyx-1nHp-gZdf9GStYkmb/s640/21083437_10213978173399325_3551734514695015880_o.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
He was hesitant to go at first, pulled his blanket over his head and curled up into a ball.<br />
<br />
When he heard his dentist, Dr. Shepherd's voice he was quickly obliged to follow him to the entry of the surgery room hall. As he walked away I said, "Good luck. Love ya buddy." He replied with a cock of his head and back to me as he strutted to the doorway, "Whatever Mommy!"<br />
<br />
Everyone laughed.<br />
<br />
Me too.<br />
<br />
He is quite sassy and talks back a lot.<br />
<br />
We do get after him when he crosses that respect line.<br />
<br />
We also laugh a lot because he is letting his personality shine through.<br />
<br />
It was a long 4 weeks of getting Brother up early on summer morning weekdays to get him ready to go to 6:45am cheer practices. If you read my previous post about getting someone to work with Brother you'll know how sad I was about not being able to be part of his life and his endeavors and having to hire someone to be who I wanted to be...<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHg0zKWYKpf_ezYQ2jVvxuV4NUV0Bml0UN2j_N8gzomNcLLzmgKwD1cHyqSYPAyhDnnGuGeCbg3i78G8FFzIEuVm7KIAQBH6QAeYKGftihUO72b5LFv14QXN8fex9S9U7ZQGHZvri/s1600/20863378_10213893075391928_6233576588849967538_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="882" data-original-width="1080" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHg0zKWYKpf_ezYQ2jVvxuV4NUV0Bml0UN2j_N8gzomNcLLzmgKwD1cHyqSYPAyhDnnGuGeCbg3i78G8FFzIEuVm7KIAQBH6QAeYKGftihUO72b5LFv14QXN8fex9S9U7ZQGHZvri/s640/20863378_10213893075391928_6233576588849967538_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Well, at his first opportunity to cheer for his high school his Buddy wasn't able to be with him.</span><br />
<br />
I knew this ahead of time and prepped for a few days before that I would have to take him and that I would be there. With the initial announcement of this development he completely melted, yelled, screamed, and threatened self-harm.<br />
<br />
By Friday he was totally calmed as I asked him to get into the car and he didn't yell at me, scream at me, or threaten to hit me during the drive there or pushing me away as I walked behind him to get the gym for warmups.<br />
<br />
Then I sat there and watched him warm-up with the other cheerleaders and watched a bit of his personality shine out as he talked with and teased the girls.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vpLQmAQFBqT1FkHO2prpVuk8u4zswS0xmvbzat3tSv96vYE-nCoOySP74x30tBFgJMPDJH20ZaYIFEp_B_9MRGOfNwoqqFWq8qojsfu5pMXKEauV4UompElcx7suPnWskEICZG8l/s1600/Screen+Shot+2017-08-28+at+9.54.32+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="856" data-original-width="974" height="562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vpLQmAQFBqT1FkHO2prpVuk8u4zswS0xmvbzat3tSv96vYE-nCoOySP74x30tBFgJMPDJH20ZaYIFEp_B_9MRGOfNwoqqFWq8qojsfu5pMXKEauV4UompElcx7suPnWskEICZG8l/s640/Screen+Shot+2017-08-28+at+9.54.32+AM.png" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
I couldn't help but smile.<br />
<br />
But, deep down I was just waiting for him to yell at me to "Go away!!!" so I just kept my expectation low.<br />
<br />
Then they came out to the track to cheer for the football team and there was Brother leading the way with "confidence" plastered on his face.<br />
<br />
The cheers started and I don't even know how to explain my pride, excitement and shock as I watched him do every cheer and almost every move!<br />
<br />
He was a super star!<br />
<br />
His teachers and peers kept approaching me to say how amazing he was and what a shock it was to see him coming, almost literally, out of his shell.<br />
<br />
I couldn't stop cheering for his cheering, laughing at his antics and looking around to see who else was enjoying his talent and tenacity!<br />
<br />
Someone sent a picture with him in it to his teacher, Marie, and she ran right over from her house (pretty close to the high school) with her daughter to come and cheer him on and beam in pride with all the excitement and dedication he was showing.<br />
<br />
We both goggled about the progress he has made and how amazing it was to see this personality coming for everyone to enjoy.<br />
<br />
So, I get to go to all of the games he cheers at, because he is so proud of himself, feels totally secure in his abilities as a cheerleader.<br />
<br />
My dreams may not always come true, but I'm realizing that variations of dreams ain't bad either.Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-56272185501173458862017-07-11T08:17:00.002-06:002017-07-11T08:17:41.478-06:00I'm giving up! I'm not doing this anymore!That was going through my mind this morning as Brother was screaming at me again.<br />
<br />
I say again, not because it doesn't happen often, but because it had just happened last night.<br />
<br />
Marc and I endured an escalation of aggressive emotion and verbal attack when we reminded Brother of his conditioning for Cheer at the high school gym with his peers.<br />
<br />
Brother is 6 foot 1.5 inches now, his voice has deepened, and although he is very skinny, he is solid muscle.<br />
<br />
Being screamed at by him is intimidating to say the least, but it also wears you down as a parent and caregiver.<br />
<br />
I've talked about it before that our kids, Brother especially, has such extreme anxiety of almost everything, especially social situations, that he will completely melt/fall apart/freak out to the point that an outsider would think we were either torturing him or that we were forcing him to do something he hates.<br />
<br />
When he screams at me like he did last night and this morning, I start to doubt my mother's intuition and wonder if I am pushing him too hard and that I will hinder him in some way by pushing him out of his comfort zone.<br />
<br />
Last night, after being screamed at for a solid 15 minutes... not typical teenage rant at a parent kind of screaming... more like a dying, underfed, over-worked, hormonal, emotional, disrespectful teenager. Trust me. There's a difference between your teenager yelling at you and how my teenager yells at me.<br />
<br />
Just trust me. Don't tell me all teenagers are like that.<br />
<br />
They're not.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I was able to stay patient and calm last night and talk to him about the scenario of him sitting in his man-cave in his chair watching TV and listening to Shania Twain ALL day, EVERY day and not being with fiends, learning new things or having friendships. I told him that I can't handle the heartache, energy and and fear I feel every time Marc and I try to help him move forward to do something that he loves.<br />
<br />
It's wearing, depleting, and nerve-ending on my emotions, my physical body and my spiritual well-being.<br />
<br />
I just wanted to give up, but I wanted to talk to him openly about the situation.<br />
<br />
He's really smart and understands everything you talk to him about, you just have to remember to talk to him like a young man, and when I do, it sometimes can calm him down.<br />
<br />
We "talked" for a few more minutes and he came and sat next to me and let me give him a hug.<br />
<br />
I felt accomplished that I had succeeded in communicating with him and felt like the morning would bring new hope.<br />
<br />
Then I woke him up this morning.<br />
<br />
As soon as he rose from his bed it was all out panic.<br />
<br />
It took a lot of patience and a lot of effort and time, but after one hour my nerves were raw from the screams and the insults and the all out, yelling, but he had finally finished his shower.<br />
<br />
I wanted to call his friend who was coming to get him to just forget it and don't come get him for conditioning after all.<br />
<br />
But, for whatever reason, a prompting, or maybe just knowledge from trial and error, I persisted in getting him to his destination.<br />
<br />
Brother was still screaming right up to the second that Lauren showed up to take him.<br />
<br />
Then it was a calm, sweet, "Oh! Hello, Lauren" --giggle-- from Brother...<br />
<br />
With no effort after that point he was off to her car and talking to her the whole way there.<br />
<br />
My heart warmed a little as I thought, "Even if he only talks to her today and doesn't even do the gym, I'll be so proud of him for trying."<br />
<br />
After Brother left I moved on to getting the 2 girls ready for summer camp and Baby kept yelling at me to get out of her room and then got upset with me because I had picked out the wrong color pull-ups. (eye roll inserted about here)<br />
<br />
I was quickly reminded of how worn I was from dealing with Brother and all the feelings of falling apart or giving up and I felt myself on the verge of it again.<br />
<br />
So with those thoughts came the guilt I feel, and Marc too, for not being able to be the kind of parents we want to be. It kills me that I am not the one to take Brother to all his activities and then watch and be proud of what he does. We want to be the involved parents so badly, but for everyone's benefit, it is better that we have someone other than us to get him through life.<br />
<br />
It really stinks. I think of all the times that other parents will see Brother out doing things and wonder why his parents aren't there to support him. I don't want them to think that we don't care or that we just want someone else to take care of our kids. They will have no idea that he has two parents longing to be there for support and enjoyment.<br />
<br />
I've judged before.<br />
<br />
Everyone has, don't act like you haven't. It happens, naturally.<br />
<br />
I've wondered before why a special needs person has no parent around or why someone else has to be there to do what a parent "should" be doing for their child.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry I judged you.<br />
<br />
I get it now.<br />
<br />
It's not about being a lazy, neglectful, or unloving parent.<br />
<br />
It's so much deeper than that.<br />
<br />
Marc and I allow our hearts to ache so that our children can succeed in the best way possible. We want them to experience everything they possibly can. We have had to come to accept that sometimes, no matter what, they just don't do well with us. We, as their parents, are their refuge and safe spot, so instead of pushing past their comforts to do something they love and get joy from, they fall apart and either use us as the scapegoat or the punching bag.<br />
<br />
I thought all this in my head in only moments, though it took so much to write it down.<br />
<br />
After my mindful pity party, I begrudgingly went to Sister's room just waiting for the next ball to drop. Thank goodness things went well with her if you don't count the yelling at me when I asked if she had washed her hair yet. Oh boy.<br />
<br />
I went and sat in my room and thought, "Meh. This is dumb. Why do I push them to do things? I'm so tired of having to put so much effort into getting them to do things they love or need to do, let alone things that are new or not as desirable."<br />
<br />
After my resignation to give up there was a knock at the door.<br />
<br />
Brother and Lauren were home.<br />
<br />
I half expected Lauren to tell me that it didn't go well and that she didn't think this was going to work.<br />
<br />
Instead, when I asked her to tell me how conditioning went with Brother and a cringing look on my face anticipating the news that he was awful, she said with a smile, "It went really well! His P.E. teacher from this past year of school is the coach so when he saw her he got excited and got right into the working out."<br />
<br />
She also told me that Brother had turned to her at the end and said, "Now that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."<br />
<br />
That made me laugh.<br />
<br />
Which was good because I needed to smile.<br />
<br />
Within those few moments of her report to me of her time with Brother, I felt a twinge of joy that it had been a success.<br />
<br />
I was reminded of all the many tender mercies Heavenly Father places in our paths.<br />
<br />
I didn't know that his previous P.E. teacher, whom he adores, was going to be the coach there at conditioning. What a blessing that was. She even included one of his favorite exercises since he was there.<br />
<br />
We are blessed with special angels in our lives who are willing and able to care for our kids where we can't or even shouldn't.<br />
<br />
Later in the evening I witnessed another tender mercy when as we gathered with a couple of my siblings and parents at my parents' home for a <a href="https://www.mormon.org/resources/family-home-evening" target="_blank">Family Home Evening</a> lesson.<br />
<br />
At first I felt twinges of jealousy that Sister wasn't the one joining her cousins in leading the lesson and being reminded how different our children are. A few pity tears began to gather... then we sang the opening song.<br />
<br />
Our kids never... OK, very rarely, sing songs with us during our <a href="https://www.mormon.org/resources/family-home-evening" target="_blank">Family Home Evenings</a> and often are running off and I am singing as I run down the hall to fetch them or coax them into coming back in.<br />
<br />
But here they were.<br />
<br />
The three of them.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs7YndNi4NGelCbUTvT3asW4iBKv16ZOf3HiokmZ_s_Ky69-tM_5kv5nGP-12eIkMPNKgGIzAxn2SvtDmCeLiez-5XvjIOGIQXyYcsWgoPGKoIMyx1-_36hcyTCj31lxRBsddfxH-L1zw/s1600/IMG_7291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs7YndNi4NGelCbUTvT3asW4iBKv16ZOf3HiokmZ_s_Ky69-tM_5kv5nGP-12eIkMPNKgGIzAxn2SvtDmCeLiez-5XvjIOGIQXyYcsWgoPGKoIMyx1-_36hcyTCj31lxRBsddfxH-L1zw/s640/IMG_7291.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brother is in the recliner chair to the far right... I couldn't quite get him in the shot... but he's there.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPGRMTheQgx7S3IwcbE_J9BZqCBiN9215bvEgSMzBTM9UFy11pFA7IbvDFrb6f_npQxfGe9ywW2bwY-prhZ-4iLMH1nSLES8rPz-aI4aFwAxWYizHDRBp_dH0geKIJ38FB48paB294oI/s1600/IMG_7292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQPGRMTheQgx7S3IwcbE_J9BZqCBiN9215bvEgSMzBTM9UFy11pFA7IbvDFrb6f_npQxfGe9ywW2bwY-prhZ-4iLMH1nSLES8rPz-aI4aFwAxWYizHDRBp_dH0geKIJ38FB48paB294oI/s640/IMG_7292.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLz3FE_JakFHRoPWAcuzBasQlJ5vgT3MgM5hrNQuv7wvxyGnYDGqTWTXTxPWkd28vptkr2mmwvv0e6v8jhKPdGJeaxxZ-ijUer4yG3W7A951Zo-puOEuqJ81-ui2foJJXWzLWKjpIH6as/s1600/IMG_7294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLz3FE_JakFHRoPWAcuzBasQlJ5vgT3MgM5hrNQuv7wvxyGnYDGqTWTXTxPWkd28vptkr2mmwvv0e6v8jhKPdGJeaxxZ-ijUer4yG3W7A951Zo-puOEuqJ81-ui2foJJXWzLWKjpIH6as/s640/IMG_7294.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sitting with their cousins and singing with vigor... well, Baby was vigorous (smiling and singing at the top of her lungs every word), Sister was shyly grinning as she sang and Brother had his back turned to us, but I could hear his deep tones every so often.<br />
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We all sang "I Am a Child of God."<br />
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My resolve to give up and not do this anymore waned for those moments. I found peace and joy in the time with my family and I was encouraged by our children's joyful participation.<br />
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I want to give up.<br />
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I don't want to do this anymore.<br />
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But, I learn often that it is not about what I want.<br />
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It's so much deeper that that.<br />
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It is about what I <b><u>need</u></b>.<br />
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What my Heavenly Father knows I need.<br />
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Just like our kids may approach something kicking and screaming and fighting it to the end, it isn't until they get past the fear and anxiety that they learn we, as their parents, are directing them to their own happiness and success.<br />
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I may be kicking and screaming right now, but I am slowly remembering how wonderful the destination is when my Heavenly Father leads me there.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-12217290037559276642017-07-07T12:25:00.000-06:002017-07-07T12:25:06.668-06:00The Year of Baby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
NO! I am not making an announcement!</div>
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Trust me...</div>
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Have you ever watched "<a href="https://youtu.be/YckdzD92A48" target="_blank">The Middle</a>?"</div>
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If you haven't and you like my blog, or if you like me, you HAVE to watch it!!</div>
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Anyway, one of the main characters, </div>
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Sue Heck always is so positive despite everything going wrong in her life... </div>
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I love her! So she names her years so that it will be the best year ever, </div>
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"This is the Year of Sue!"</div>
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Well, being as positive as I love to be, I am naming this <i>Year of Baby</i>!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSw8MBVDsYG0JK5r9dbFJWkwOx9cib_xwXyjZFuFyIFJjg4tPO9pm_ww0Zw-NJhMR55dFKbFmQStPWYCnCWy2KDnx6TZAts7Hhirv0bWR2_axLFITVdprSfhae8_PRRJ5Je3-UgMauUtE/s1600/IMG_6813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSw8MBVDsYG0JK5r9dbFJWkwOx9cib_xwXyjZFuFyIFJjg4tPO9pm_ww0Zw-NJhMR55dFKbFmQStPWYCnCWy2KDnx6TZAts7Hhirv0bWR2_axLFITVdprSfhae8_PRRJ5Je3-UgMauUtE/s640/IMG_6813.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Since I haven't really written much this year, I may have neglected to mention how much Baby is talking now. Starting about March of this year she started speaking in sentences!</div>
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Not as much grunting and pointing and indiscernible words, but actual sentences.</div>
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They were few and far between, but they were there.</div>
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Then toward the end of the school year she was talking even more and every body (friends and family) kept commenting in awe how much she was talking now.</div>
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I love hearing her little voice saying real words and saying, "Can I have a Pediasure, please," or "Say I'm sorry to me."</div>
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My favorite is hearing her sense of humor. A few months ago when she started talking more we were all in the van driving somewhere and someone in the car said, "I like (can't remember item)!" and someone replied with, "Me too!" Then, to our surprise, Baby piped up, "Me three!"</div>
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Ha ha ha ha!!</div>
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Marc and I looked at each other slightly astonished and proud and couldn't stop laughing at both the joke and our giddy happiness that our baby just told a joke! She told a joke in her own words! And it was funny!</div>
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Not only is Baby talking more, but she is starting to emerge from her solo career and is starting to play with others! I've especially enjoyed her budding friendship with my nephew who also has <a href="http://fragilex.org/" target="_blank">Fragile X Syndrome</a>.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUF6y4wmiFsnTORpOmDmbyKu47DwX5xbmdZnNij8r0SWmNZnJRC7xoJpUZ-jtHdmN98mD58xn_V2CzeWu6wK9Zc-B-8Zcvsiepz8QUfRP52756wG9N3XVYXeBN3ZRkIqk6QZ3IBQmmzqw/s1600/IMG_6785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUF6y4wmiFsnTORpOmDmbyKu47DwX5xbmdZnNij8r0SWmNZnJRC7xoJpUZ-jtHdmN98mD58xn_V2CzeWu6wK9Zc-B-8Zcvsiepz8QUfRP52756wG9N3XVYXeBN3ZRkIqk6QZ3IBQmmzqw/s640/IMG_6785.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They both love and seek sensory input, so they are great playmates! (This is in Zac's back yard)</td></tr>
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She's also developed quite a saucy attitude along with her growth of vocabulary... not sure how I feel about that all the time, but I am grateful that I can see she can stand up for herself now. I just have to figure out how to help her tell the difference between standing up for herself and just being plain mean.<br />
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Pictured below she won't let her cousin, Jman color with her. She how she has her arm up in defense? Ya, we're gonna utilize that move when I teach her how to play basketball.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqO9wiTOKj6-VJWGc4h1XHXQA2Tf04NgTcN77RotkmIkIQ75zp7BGaNNm5VPGBEklTBnQ8k_Kw6XNYU6TZMSX9vATxBvwHW7IPBpCFgYiBfZkxbfgDGh2Fhz5wn3CoDML-4JoDTkHlcgU/s1600/IMG_6812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqO9wiTOKj6-VJWGc4h1XHXQA2Tf04NgTcN77RotkmIkIQ75zp7BGaNNm5VPGBEklTBnQ8k_Kw6XNYU6TZMSX9vATxBvwHW7IPBpCFgYiBfZkxbfgDGh2Fhz5wn3CoDML-4JoDTkHlcgU/s640/IMG_6812.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Baby is changing, growing and really becoming more than I initially thought she would be.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPc1AEIxeUrDj5ZirJUbldncZTo5678hQ3Kq4y3jbKdfwKI3vbzRy6s3VV1KjvpAh3tAQDTX2P351vW9b3xycTF5JzbnGWIVGvjZMrDFhQ5Cjz_M5xayCcsbIaREGXBc62JIz_QSUuQg/s1600/IMG_6808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPc1AEIxeUrDj5ZirJUbldncZTo5678hQ3Kq4y3jbKdfwKI3vbzRy6s3VV1KjvpAh3tAQDTX2P351vW9b3xycTF5JzbnGWIVGvjZMrDFhQ5Cjz_M5xayCcsbIaREGXBc62JIz_QSUuQg/s640/IMG_6808.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I hate to admit it, but I used to always think that she would be our lowest functioning out of our 3 kids. Now I wonder. She is showing so much personality, understanding and verbal expression that I have so much more of a brilliant future in my sights for her. </div>
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On the other side, I hate to get my hopes up. It's hard to hope for what might be too much. You kind of keep your expectations at a minimum---don't get me wrong---it's really more subconscious than something you actually decide to think. It just comes with years of struggle, heartache, and failure. Expecting less and rejoicing the mediocre becomes the normal. Oh, that sounds terrible, I don't mean it the way it's coming out. Nothing they do is mediocre to us. We really love to be excited and celebrate anything thing they do.</div>
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The other day I went out to draw on the sidewalk just because and Baby actually wanted to join me.</div>
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I was excited to have her there, but also insistent that she not draw on my spot.. you can see by the picture she tried to push that boundary as close as possible. Which, funny enough, it something I celebrated because she was understanding her will against mine and that was huge... anyway, here's what I drew:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSKF-iu6uT6G6M2Qh0YjtTLxkZNaIl793Vtbf1hUb5qYkEKqOCLU_UHOM1ZjOXpyzQ4mcXNQHyWEAYP8UVdUSQiCvnpuE43PQf3QhzSAwEh2pyLV-KPiLXuA1r66YPUZO-vQB23sVM/s1600/fullsizeoutput_e9dd.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSKF-iu6uT6G6M2Qh0YjtTLxkZNaIl793Vtbf1hUb5qYkEKqOCLU_UHOM1ZjOXpyzQ4mcXNQHyWEAYP8UVdUSQiCvnpuE43PQf3QhzSAwEh2pyLV-KPiLXuA1r66YPUZO-vQB23sVM/s640/fullsizeoutput_e9dd.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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I laughed when I got done because it kind of resembled me... Ha! </div>
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But what I really want you to see is Baby's artwork:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLf0MYn_vnk-fW3JUUM49vKT9izzx0rjrvVSxMN6QL-EVJ_aoITXaO_as-gnsDJHPoYswFHULmb5qHdoza8LI_X4bpNAKWdxmD_VX-GpAad4SzxzQS6sqg8QGoD9NBiu7Vs6DbQgs7/s1600/IMG_6482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLf0MYn_vnk-fW3JUUM49vKT9izzx0rjrvVSxMN6QL-EVJ_aoITXaO_as-gnsDJHPoYswFHULmb5qHdoza8LI_X4bpNAKWdxmD_VX-GpAad4SzxzQS6sqg8QGoD9NBiu7Vs6DbQgs7/s640/IMG_6482.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7sCm5qDRisWPgOFL0_w2-M9tv5aPR5OsJUIjdP-lEp-bxPpqZDpDv1TXAEnDinbtgnFTM-yL9YcS7_XMPiNwmwXIBM_051Tmarb1-zJzdgepjc11WNXI0kdgX7XZJud4wLQTVWcn/s1600/fullsizeoutput_e9db.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7sCm5qDRisWPgOFL0_w2-M9tv5aPR5OsJUIjdP-lEp-bxPpqZDpDv1TXAEnDinbtgnFTM-yL9YcS7_XMPiNwmwXIBM_051Tmarb1-zJzdgepjc11WNXI0kdgX7XZJud4wLQTVWcn/s640/fullsizeoutput_e9db.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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She was so precise and calculated in how she was drawing this and even asked me for the black to do the eyelashes with!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEWDe6XaEbakaHr7JJIgr6AMvof9t3m_w9fK3EvcXOxM6miRpfrsYpgrRO1fPF4WJzyEubvGQcRykSNwCUDzf8SxuKk0T4CvJJJmo0KoEJzZ7vH2SITst-N7JEOsdu3mdUR4irVuqo/s1600/IMG_6483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEWDe6XaEbakaHr7JJIgr6AMvof9t3m_w9fK3EvcXOxM6miRpfrsYpgrRO1fPF4WJzyEubvGQcRykSNwCUDzf8SxuKk0T4CvJJJmo0KoEJzZ7vH2SITst-N7JEOsdu3mdUR4irVuqo/s640/IMG_6483.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoPixgVeeS1C4M2Z-1bn0sSFWYM0sVNdaqtp-j2SG78afCCUskRkAVyxHE5DY3VJhF9fjQmrfcaHkvajygljA_zG-4ikZjY4efbfihrX_mgtMYKtZq8Uhq4uSQv1RjaqwXmD0RHMA2/s1600/IMG_6493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoPixgVeeS1C4M2Z-1bn0sSFWYM0sVNdaqtp-j2SG78afCCUskRkAVyxHE5DY3VJhF9fjQmrfcaHkvajygljA_zG-4ikZjY4efbfihrX_mgtMYKtZq8Uhq4uSQv1RjaqwXmD0RHMA2/s640/IMG_6493.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I'm excited to have a partner while I chalk.</div>
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I might just have to designate her area with more definition... tee hee!</div>
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I'm so proud of her. She's such an artist and I find so </div>
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much joy in seeing her talents and strengths shine.</div>
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And, yes, that is her walking Ranger, our dog... on our family walk through the neighborhood...with all three kids... and only one slight meltdown during the 2-minute walk... and that meltdown wasn't even from Baby...</div>
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It's going to be a great Year of Baby!</div>
Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-81840159605198847462017-06-25T11:45:00.002-06:002017-06-25T11:45:59.067-06:00A Turtle DestinationOne day back while Marc and I were in Greece with our friends Tolis and Thomas we were driving along one day and saw a large turtle almost in the middle of the road looking as if it had been working on crossing the road to get down the hill to a grassy area. I was so excited to see this large turtle and had to get out of the car so I could see it up close. Marc jumped out of the car with me and I assumed it was so he could get a good look at it too and, maybe, a picture.<br />
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Marc let me enjoy it and then he picked it up so that he could take it quicker to, what he guessed, was its destination.<br />
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I was impressed with Marc's thoughtfulness and concern for this hard-shelled creature.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyxs-eZChADYP7E8ttTKTgU5BMZHHFJlBL32iLM_OM8B-qZUJ3IGWWsOlGIHH4w6mk9Fu-mg9brk_b-SZDNJQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Once we were on our way in the car we all began to imitate what the turtle might be thinking when Marc took it to the grassy field across the road. Things like, "Excuse me, this was not my destination," or "I've been working since last week to get to the other side and now I'm back at the beginning!" and "Hallelujah! I thought I'd never make it here!" We laughed as we imitated "turtle" voices and thought up all kinds of scenarios of whether or not we had helped this turtle move faster on its journey or had completely foiled its plans.<br />
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I have thought about that Grecian turtle often in these last few weeks as I have tried to find a way to segway into getting back into my writing without leaving everything out I had missed.<br />
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Not that I thought the turtle would be my segway, per sé, but the direction I was going.<br />
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I've been so worried about documenting my journey for the family and friends who read this blog that I lost site of the point of this blog.<br />
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Writing is therapeutic for me.<br />
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That's it. For me.<br />
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I don't make money at this.<br />
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I don't get swag for this.<br />
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I'm not on anyone's deadline, due date, or subject matter.<br />
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I do this for me and my sanity.<br />
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It's my way of sharing with whomever may come across it can learn, grow, find relief, or humor all while giving myself perspective and release.<br />
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I see my life differently when I blog.<br />
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More as lessons to be learned.<br />
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Humor to be found.<br />
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Happiness to be enjoyed.<br />
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When I write everyday I am able to analyze my life, day, week or experience and see why it is the way it is/was and how it can strengthen me. I sometimes even share only to maybe help someone out there who might be struggling.<br />
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So I've learned that I keep trying to change my Turtle Destination... God knows where he is taking me. He knows where I will be safe, happy and enlightened. I get pretty frustrated when I am picked up and completely turned around right when I feel I am making progress and then, slowly, I begin to see why He picked me up and moved me.<br />
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This experience with the turtle also reminded me of Brother at his high school Prom this year. He went to Prom back in April. Yes, he went to Prom last year for his sophomore year, which was so awesome, but it was all arranged with his Special Ed Classmate and was pretty much arranged completely for him, date and all. This year was a little different because he chose his own date and asked her to Prom! She is a friend of his from junior high who has always been so kind and good to him.<br />
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I was so proud of him for taking this first big step of actually asking a girl on a date! My favorite story was when I told him he needed to ask his date what color her dress would be so I could make the corsage. His teacher went with him to ask her and when her response to him was "maroon," he exclaimed "Oh my!" and flopped (his version of the faint because he is so happy) onto the table in from of him.<br />
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Maroon is one of his favorite colors! Maroon and turquoise to be exact.<br />
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So I made sure to put some turquoise in too. I decided to make the corsage and boutonniere out of paper just to make it fun and original.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhbhr0TTErnD1J6nmA9aIkV7jFfewoYRKxYre62mS2hwDToF6WLSO0TTpfjN8EW4WB2kyE75T06gicqXQcgL9rh8kenbfIDUgKG3HYgg0WAikWKp-h3YYbrz7lBOdg5kd3yaYEvAh/s1600/17966598_10212696677082718_8929366773280882346_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhbhr0TTErnD1J6nmA9aIkV7jFfewoYRKxYre62mS2hwDToF6WLSO0TTpfjN8EW4WB2kyE75T06gicqXQcgL9rh8kenbfIDUgKG3HYgg0WAikWKp-h3YYbrz7lBOdg5kd3yaYEvAh/s640/17966598_10212696677082718_8929366773280882346_o.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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I had the opportunity to be their photographer so I got to see a little of the inside action and it made my heart so happy. Brother and his date were so cute together and she was so sweet to him, but also didn't put up with his shenanigans. It was so sweet to see her holding his arm and paying attention to him. It made my mom heart so happy I thought it would burst.<br />
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One of Brother's classmate's grandmother offered her house for the meal and gathering place before the dance. It was a huge success.</div>
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It's taken Brother a long time to get to this point, and I don't mean just the dating part, but the socializing and showing his personality part.<br />
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Sometimes I worry we push him too hard.<br />
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Sometimes I worry we don't push him hard enough.<br />
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Sometimes, we do know what is best for him and we do know he needs to be challenged.<br />
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Often, we have to pick him up, dust him off and steer him in the right direction and he definitely isn't too happy with us during those times. In the end, he usually ends up with a smile on his face that confirms to us that we did the right thing by pushing him out of his comfort zone.<br />
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Sometimes slow and steady doesn't exactly win the race, but it sure helps you to take in the scenery.<br />
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I think that while Brother has been moving slowly on his road of life, he has been taking in all the things he has learned and is able to put them to use after he has had time to soak it all in.<br />
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Sometimes he gets redirected.<br />
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Sometimes we wish he'd progress faster.<br />
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Sometimes we want him to come out of his shell (sometimes that can be literally if he has a hooded jacket to hide under).<br />
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Sometimes he needs his shell to protect himself through the journey.<br />
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Sometimes none of us know where the road is taking us, but we have learned to rely on the Lord and His timing and plan.<br />
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I never thought I could learn so much from a Grecian turtle... but I'm glad we crossed paths.<br />
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Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3637976725175049589.post-12563618268926715702017-05-04T16:40:00.002-06:002017-05-04T16:40:55.157-06:00The Wrong-Right DollSister wanted a baby doll.<br />
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Trust me.<br />
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We all know she wanted a baby doll.<br />
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If you were a fly on the wall, you knew she wanted a baby doll.<br />
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Just a tad shocking.<br />
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Shocking?<br />
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Ya. Shocking.<br />
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Sister is a girl who started out all girlie loving pink, having her hair done, loved bows in her hair and on her dresses, pretty shoes and all things princess.<br />
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Then, one day, without much warning, she became a Tomboy.<br />
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No more pink.<br />
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No more bows.<br />
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No more princesses.<br />
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No more long hair and braids with bows.<br />
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I missed her little girlie self, but we learned to embrace her more tomboy-like joys.<br />
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So we have spent the last 7 years getting her Legos, Marvel Comic Characters, Power Rangers, swords, guns and even a punching bag.<br />
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All that background should help you understand why a few months ago when she began to obsess about a black baby boy doll, you can bet I was all over that. She began to check on Walmart.com and just HAD to have this certain doll. I tried to find another doll that might compare or come close because I really wanted to avoid paying $45 for a doll that I wasn't even sure she would play with very long. So, at first she was satisfied with playing with my old baby dolls, but then she really wanted her own. So we went to the local thrift store and she picked one out with blue eyes that she new had to be a boy.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSdepUa87AWNzsnb9e_3TYYR301hFP4v_vmsQayOfimYorqmiCMw4wH-r43V0c65nuYn1W-XDcqiIwJJ02bvc7hVahGRnZGRyGQQnZMfaBFuQdySWoUSgtUPnobJPgZvBMXmlnEYZ/s1600/IMG_0551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSdepUa87AWNzsnb9e_3TYYR301hFP4v_vmsQayOfimYorqmiCMw4wH-r43V0c65nuYn1W-XDcqiIwJJ02bvc7hVahGRnZGRyGQQnZMfaBFuQdySWoUSgtUPnobJPgZvBMXmlnEYZ/s640/IMG_0551.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">The baby dolls from my childhood weren't cutting it anymore...</td></tr>
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But, she kept wanting her black baby boy doll from Africa. She loves China and usually has to make sure everything she has is from China, but this doll, she knew would be from Africa. In a panic after a severe and overwhelming break-down I tried to band-aid the situation by buying the only black baby doll I could find at Target that was under $15, and it was a girl, but they didn't have boy dolls.<br />
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She seemed to be happy with her new doll that she named, Lucy. I was relieved that this doll might suffice until Christmas.<br />
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Even though she loved Lucy, she just had to have her black boy baby doll that she had seen on Walmart.com.<br />
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She was melting down everyday, several times a day.<br />
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She was obsessed. Even with me trying to get her a supply of baby clothes from the thrift store and even when a dear friend donated some of her own baby's clothes... she would be excited for a time and then quickly go back to melting about not have the doll she wanted so bad.<br />
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I don't want to spoil our kids. I mean, they are spoiled enough with grandma's gifts and my occasional "Oh it's less than $5" give-in. I was trying to teach her that something that big needed to wait until Christmas, or at the very least, her birthday.<br />
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Then I saw the baby sitting kit sitting in the corner of her room that she had put together during Activity Days a year ago with her peers. All it was doing was gathering dust, but it sparked an idea.<br />
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I talked to Sister and explained to her that she could by the doll if she earned the money for it.<br />
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To my surprise, she got very excited!<br />
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Now there was an end in sight for her and she would know that she was working towards a goal. It was perfect. Something for her to learn and a way for her to understand the concept of waiting.<br />
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Win-win.<br />
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So I pleaded with my neighborhood on our Facebook page (the smudges are Sister's name):<br />
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Immediately I got responses from friends who wanted to help Sister earn her money for the doll.<br />
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The first babysitting job she was so excited she could hardly contain herself. Marc and I couldn't stop grinning as we watched her gather her kit together and then waited by the stairs for the time to leave.<br />
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The whole way to the house she was nervously and uncontrollably giggling.<br />
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She's never babysat before.<br />
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This was the big moment.<br />
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We walked in and she was a little timid at first, but soon warmed up and was in heaven playing with the kids. We even got out the flannel board and we told some stories. She decided that I was the one to be in charge of the baby so I held the baby while she played with the two siblings.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3FTEUDh9KSR4xzc7V5GCBmIAu4TxVrmnMYp6MRYCtkOxmHJcQp9JoLSQwzkaNirreBVrXATAiUrHNDdgauAL-am9MMe39L3csEoDmzYsELgBEQJxsXjzhuphGGSzuSbu_Dl8DBcj/s1600/IMG_1108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3FTEUDh9KSR4xzc7V5GCBmIAu4TxVrmnMYp6MRYCtkOxmHJcQp9JoLSQwzkaNirreBVrXATAiUrHNDdgauAL-am9MMe39L3csEoDmzYsELgBEQJxsXjzhuphGGSzuSbu_Dl8DBcj/s640/IMG_1108.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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I have to admit that I nearly cried several times as I watched my daughter having a typical youth experience of babysitting. My heart kept as I listened to her playing games with the kids and asking them questions. For moments at a time I felt like I was the mom of a typical tween girl. It was so weird to feel like I was in that position for a moment.<br />
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Sister was also given an opportunity to dog watch for our friends so she could earn some more money for her doll.<br />
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I was so proud of her for wanting to be responsible for Rosie the dog. She would tell me that I had to walk ahead and not to get in her way.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">She even went over to play with Rosie so she wouldn't feel lonely while her family was on vacation.<br />Baby wanted to help too.</td></tr>
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Within 3 weeks, between her birthday and Christmas money she had been saving up and her hard work, she had enough to pay for her doll.<br />
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She was so excited that we had to order her doll even before she went to school.<br />
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I was so relieved to finally have it all going the way she had hoped.<br />
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Then when she got home from school she had informed me that I had ordered the wrong doll! And she wasn't exactly kind about the information either... long story short, I cancelled the first order and promptly searched for the doll she really wanted and had meant to tell me she wanted.<br />
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I won't go into all the messy details, but I will say it wasn't pretty, but we did get the right doll ordered. She counted down the 5-7 days that it would be delivered. Luckily for all of us it came on a Wednesday (5 days after the order)<br />
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I don't think she could have been any happier. She has loved him ever since. I love the names she comes up with.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSX-vMY6961ZlDasy06rayh_Ahq7KO9DS6Wv3FTs0mOUFgNeke14ByP-_aZac-EHvS7JCqFHr-x16kGi8GOPwG9yTJDJ5qBIeQiYgglMyINSACm-IEuqwougPB_Pb_LU8JP10U-AR6/s1600/IMG_2002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSX-vMY6961ZlDasy06rayh_Ahq7KO9DS6Wv3FTs0mOUFgNeke14ByP-_aZac-EHvS7JCqFHr-x16kGi8GOPwG9yTJDJ5qBIeQiYgglMyINSACm-IEuqwougPB_Pb_LU8JP10U-AR6/s640/IMG_2002.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.800000190734863px;">His name is Jedediah</td></tr>
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But as in any event in Our Life, no experience can go without some kind of hiccup...<br />
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Three days after Jedediah arrived the "wrong" doll came. Some other packages had come at the same time so in order to make sure that it was the doll that I needed to send back I opened it.<br />
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Sister was there.<br />
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I didn't think much of it because she had thrown such an angry fit when I wrongly ordered it, that I just figured she'd be glad to see it go.<br />
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I was wrong.<br />
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Oh so very wrong.<br />
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As soon as I opened it Sister began to squeal with excitement...<br />
<br />
???<br />
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Oh mommy, I love him!<br />
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"Uh, sweetie, this is the doll you DIDN'T want... remember... you were hitting me because you didn't want it? I have to send it back."<br />
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She melted and raged all in one motion.<br />
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I was in trouble.<br />
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Somehow I was able to talk her through it and explain that this doll was the one she didn't want and we needed to send it back to get our money back.<br />
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She began to sob with Jedediah in her arms and she blubbered, "I'm going to miss you... we're going to miss you," then she turned to Jedediah and explained, "it's OK, you will see your brother again. Mean mommy is making him go back, but it is OK, Santa will bring him back."<br />
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I didn't react and just let her have her moment of tears over the unopened baby doll box containing the "wrong-right" doll.<br />
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I taped the outer delivery box closed all while talking calming words to her and saying that maybe she could get one like it for her birthday or Christmas, but, again, this was not something she got to have just because. It was a special occasion doll, or she had to earn more money to buy it.<br />
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Sister had fervently insisted that Santa bring her the same exact doll and not one that just "looked" like him. That request was made all while she was tearfully promising both baby dolls that he would come back. That Santa would take care of him and that he would play with him so he wouldn't get lonely. She also informed Jedediah that Santa would know when to feed and change the baby while in his care.<br />
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Hearing all of this, how could I possibly send it back? This was a teaching moment. What should I do?<br />
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...<br />
<br />
After she weepingly went to bed I gathered the courage to pick up the box and deliver it to Santa's "workshop" for future delivery at Christmas.<br />
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I might not last until Christmas while she begs and pleads everyday for Jedediah's brother to come back. I might have to ask Santa to deliver the special baby to the Birthday Fairy for expedited delivery...Marc and Rachaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09440340913544948948noreply@blogger.com1