Boys will be boys...

I never had a brother. Just one older sister. She's going to be 50 this year--her sixth decade. Man, that's old! (If you think I'm being unduly harsh, just know that my much beloved sister deserves every word--take that Susan!)

Anyway, back to the brother I never had. I remember when I was in the 6th grade thinking that a baby brother would be oh so fun. I mentioned this to my mother and after she wiped the look of horror off of her face, she calmly informed me that a baby would not be forthcoming because daddy had gotten a vasectomy. My mom is a nurse, so she always explained everything in a clinical and dispassionate way. Never a euphemism for her--nothing like, "Daddy pulled a muscle at work which is why he's spending the weekend snuggled up to a bag of frozen peas!"

This lack of a brother explains why boys are still somewhat a mystery to me and why Kirk causes consternation and mirth at the same time. Friday was a baseball practice night and we got ready to leave only to discover that the little man lost his baseball glove. The problem is the boy can be standing on top of something and not see it. He can find the one package of poptarts that I've hidden deep in the recesses of the pantry, but his coat or backpack that is sitting in the middle of the floor? Heck no!

We searched high and low when it occurred to me that I last saw him with it in the backyard. Not the vast backyard of the old house, no the current backyard which closely resembles a postage stamp. It was sitting in the dry creek bed (i.e. drainage ditch with fancy schmancy rocks in it...) right out in the open where the passengers on an airplane could see it with their own eyes. Kirk had to be sent out twice to find it.

This, and a weeks worth of offenses, resulted in him being grounded all weekend except for the Saturday game and pictures on Sunday. I was certain it was going to be a miserable weekend for Greg and me with all the neighbor kids knocking and asking if Kirk could play. Kirk would be miserable and mope around the house and this would be the longest weekend I've ever endured.

However, boys surprise you now and then. Kirk took his punishment fairly well, only pouted a little, and paid a lot of attention to his sister. They get along really well anyway, but this weekend they have played hockey and read books and kicked the ball and generally had a great time together. Suzanne slept until 8 a.m. this morning--8 a.m. folks. This almost never happens. She is a 6:30 a.m. girl and always has been. For her to sleep in, she must have been totally tuckered out last night. Probably because she spent most of the day playing with her big brother.

It makes me happy to know that Kirk will be around to look after his sister after Greg and I are pushing up daisies (unlike my mother, I am a great fan of the euphemism!). I think that the love that Kirk has for Suzanne runs pretty deep and will withstand even puberty and the teen years. He might be one of those grubby, rock throwing, stinky-footed little boys, but he has a great love for his family and Suzanne in particular. He is a caretaker by nature, much like his father. As I have often said, he is the perfect big brother for Suzanne.

I'm so glad that we decided to have another baby and that we ended up with Suzanne. I'd hate to think that Kirk's big brother talents might have been wasted...

Word of the Day

What single word means all of these things...

1. A superstructure at the stern of a vessel.
2. To cause to become out of breath or fatigued.
3. A candid or pertinent factual report.
4. Excrement.

And the answer is...POOP! As in poop deck, pooped out, the poop, or poop in the potty. Poop seems to be the theme of my life right now. Either I am just plain pooped or Suzanne has pooped (usually somewhere obnoxious since she knows how to take off her clothes). Or I'm thinking longingly of having fruity umbrella drinks of the poop deck of a cruise ship or actually having time to read the entire newspaper to get the scoop and the poop. See, it's a theme and you all know how I love a theme...

Today we are talking about No. 4, which is often called No. 2! We have been working vigorously on potty training this week. Suzanne actually managed to tinkle in the potty chair on Wednesday, but the rest of the time she just sits on it and giggles. I think we had a breakthrough this morning, though. Unless I have her in non-removable clothes (I practically have to strap them on with duct tape), she will take off everything after she poops and leave the diaper on the floor. The poop nuggets, as Kirk calls them, tend to roll all over the place.

Today she did what she always does, except that this time she took off her diaper next to the toilet! I really think she is getting the idea about what we do in the bathroom. Gosh, I hope so because it was much easier to clean up and just flush it away.

Ahhhh, I can hear you thinking, "well if this happens every day, why doesn't she just watch her a little closer and catch her before she gets naked?" Two reasons actually. First, she buzzes (please refer to the previous blog entry). Second, kids with Downs have low muscle tone and may not be, uh, regular. While most of us have our "special moment" around the same time every day, Suzanne does not. I would have to keep her in my sights every waking moment, which is just not possible. I used to be able to just listen for her because she made the Pooping Noise, but now she has become the stealth pooper.

In essence, Suzanne is constantly searching for new ways to do things when I'm not looking. She may have Down Syndrome, but she's smarter than me.

Bee Bopping

When I was a kid I really wanted a nickname. Fortunately for me, Chicken Legs never really stuck past the 8th grade and underscored the wisdom of being careful what you wish for. Now, my friend Karen has a nickname that has stuck for over 30 years. When you can walk through the Portland Airport 20 years after high school and hear, "Hey Buckethead!" yelled across the concourse you know it's a winner. In fact, one time my son had to ask me if Aunt Bucky had a real name or if that was it...

Suzanne has a nickname--it is "The Bee." Grandma Della is chuckling right now because she knows exactly what this means. Suzanne buzzes most of her waking hours. She makes a circuit of whatever room she's in, peruses her play opportunities, moves the furniture when appropriate to get up to something more interesting, rearranges anything that is on her level, touches almost everything...she buzzes! Currently she is tossing wooden blocks into bins, an activity that she's been at for several minutes now. When she is focused on something, her attention span gets much loooonger. When all the blocks are in one bin, she claps and cheers for herself before moving them back.

This goes on all day, everyday. She even reads books with this kind of intensity. She will go to the red book bin, pick one out, sit and peruse it, toss it aside and go get another. She will go through the entire bin in this fashion and when directed, she will put the books back and clean up. She points out characters like Carl and George (Good Dog Carl and Curious George) to whoever is listening and tell the story as she goes along. She does this mainly in Russian (okay, it just sounds like Russian) so it takes a good ear to pick out the real words.

Moving, talking, talking moving--she BUZZES. Since I am the one who gets to follow her most of the time, I am so grateful that we only built the 2288 and not the 2962. That extra 600 square feet of house would kill me!