booby war continues

as you are aware, we have had fascination with boobies and all that goes with it for a while.

while swimming at our local rec center, benjamin, was delighted to see that the woman with the biggest breasts in the entire rec center and smallest bikini top come into the hot tub where he just happened to be relaxing.

me?

not so much.

“benjamin, don’t stare.” i reminded him.

and bless his heart, he did not, though it was an epic struggle.

i was feeling pretty good about our trip to booby paradise and thought we could leave the rec center having not made anyone uncomfortable and our heads held high, that is, until we were putting on our shoes.

“boobies!” ben said while pointing.

i turned to look and see him pointing at a man, who did have boobies, but probably did not need to have that fact pointed out.

another rec center, another walk of shame.

shame

on a different note, i looked over at emma during church yesterday, to see her reading her book about lizards and their mating rituals.

it was the most enlightening moment i had in church.

change

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that’s not confrontational

you know what? the world stinks if you are considered disabled.

it gets a little bit stinkier if you are non-verbal and therefore considered voiceless.

and it gets the stinkiest when people insist you are more disabled than you are therefore holding you back from your full potential.

i was told using ‘you’ in a sentence was confrontational when describing the situation.

that’s not confrontational, what’s confrontational is the whole time i was talking to you, i was thinking you looked like gary shandling with a tan.

gary

“she will be a child her whole life.” i was told about emma and why she cannot decide whether or not she wants to go somewhere.

“even children get a choice to say no.” i countered.

“no they don’t.” i was told.

“i don’t know about you, but i do give my children quite a few choices.” i replied.

those of you who have been reading this blog for the long haul know there have been ups and downs with emma. know there have been grieving processes and celebratory jumps. yesterday i found myself grieving a little more.

when emma turned 18, i genuinely, truly, sincerely, thought she would have a little more voice. a little more freedom, and little more rights.

guess what?

she doesn’t.

it does not matter if she does not want to go. it does not matter if we have to force her out of the car. she should have a choice not to go. one choice in the mid-week visit is all that was requested.

being non-verbal does not make you silent, and that is the biggest travesty of all.

it does not matter. her voice does not matter.

and that, gentle readers, makes me confrontational.

angry-eyes

luckily i packed my angry eyes.

your mom walked on the moon

this weekend, walking on the moon seemed like child’s play.

the berlin wall coming down was like taking candy from a baby.

candy

living in space for 1 year was like having a maid, cook, manicurist, and pedicurist waiting on you all day, every day.

the manny/mayweather fight was like watching an episode of barney.

manny

this weekend i measured pancakes with a ruler, then figured out the measuring cup to use to make 4″ pancakes.

i figured out 3 oz of hash browns into measuring cup measurements.

i figured out 55 goldfish is 1/2 cup.

27 cheetos puffs are 3 servings.

i counted gol’ darn chips.

individually.

this weekend, during my silent freak-out all night long, i was fairly certain i put benjamin in a diabetic coma because he had a low blood sugar reading at bed time.

then he slept in till 9:30 the next morning, solidifying my freak out.

i am finishing up legal guardianship for emma, dance for emma, dance for rosy, end of school year projects for ella, emotional break down for rosy, track practice, softball practice, track meet/softball tournament on the same day, and keats is still looking for a job.

HIRE HIM!

this weekend i felt like this:

cat

but by golly, there is not a carb that has not been counted.

atkins diet never looked so appealing.

labeling, it’s not just for cans of soup.

i have children that have disabilities. so what? i am one of millions.

i have children who are labeled because of these disabilities. that does not get to go into the category of ‘so what.’ they are not a product.

they are rather unique. summer-fun-091 they have to be, this is an actual picture of the hubby.

i feel like i do a good job treating them as individuals, not labeling them or boxing them into areas that i feel they will do the best because of their disabilities.

this week, my son was hospitalized with onset type 1 diabetes. we were fortunate to catch this very early as benjamin is what i call a ‘free range urinator.’ meaning, he does not feel the overwhelming need to make sure all urine is in the toilet bowl. because of the free spirited peeing, i was able to notice his urine was becoming increasingly like cleaning up sugar water.

as we were heading over to the emergency room, my first thought was “there is no way we are going to be able to do this, he will not be able to handle the shots, he will have multiple melt downs, his life just got so much harder.”

basically, i pictured this the rest of our lives, multiple times a day. wwe after taking 5 people to hold him down just to do a finger prick, i felt my psychic abilities were spot on peering into the future for benjamin. but then he surprised us all, with the help of some valium to start.

benjamin is a rock star about taking shots, he astounded us all.

he even let his blood be drawn, and that is basically like Jesus raising the dead.

i had thought, judged, labeled, and had him wrapped for delivery before we had even started. gift i’m proud of that kid; proud that he can still show me what an idiot i can still be.

just your average stroll through town

since ben has been relegated to home until the meds get where the meds need to be, we have been taking walks.

yesterday, we walked to the library and then the store.

along the way ben decided to turn to me and say “kneel before your royal son.”

unfortunately for ben, he does not realize this queen mother bends the knee for no one.

seeing that no bowing was going to take place, we continued on our walk.

as we neared the crosswalk he said, “i may not be smart, but i know what road kill is.”

luckily, we crossed the street with no near mishaps and no road kill seen.

road

we made it to the library, which i strategically planed to happen during nap time for the 1.2 million little children that live in our fair city because ben has now developed a zero tolerance for crying children.

my plan worked perfectly, it was quiet,  and all that were around were old people. i did not actually see them, but i could catch faint whiffs of old people smell. it was perfect, that is, until we were checking out and a lone baby let out a long wail.

“don’t worry mom, i got this.” ben said as he turned to go nanny-fy the baby.

ben’s idea of being a nanny looks kinda like this:

bear

on a side note, if you need a babysitter, ben is suddenly available.

i am living with cinderella

emma picked out her new shoes for the cold season this weekend.

she chose the nice, comfy, warm boots to complete her sense of style and fashion.

boots

when one puts on boots, one usually know to push down with the heel to get the boot to fit.

that is, unless you are queen emma, who feels that all she should have to do is point her toes and expect all the magic to happen magically.

who does she think she is, cinderella? i am not a mouse and those boots sure aren’t glass slippers.

glass

after some sweating, on my part, and coaxing, and begging her to push down with her heel, we seem to be making progress.

yet another thing she has made me not take for granted, the power of the heel push.

on a different note, the girls and i had a moment of boredom one saturday that led to us discussing who could jump in the air and click their heels together, which led to another argument of whether the heels were actually touching, which led to the camera being brought in to take pictures of alleged heel clicking, which led to ANTM poses while jumping, which led to who could jump the highest contest.

168 170 177 178 179 180

in case anyone was wondering. i won.

we walked approximately 520 miles

the local grocery store where ben rents movies is .7 miles from our house.

1.4 miles round trip, that is unless you bring ben.

ben feels the need to step on every single leaf he sees on the sidewalk.

it is fall, as in leaves are falling every where.

our 1.4 mile walk turned into a marathon of leaf massacre that spanned at least the state of utah.

viva la fall.

fall