It's a Valentine's Day Miracle...

Or something like that.

Today, because I am apparently a glutton for punishment and have nothing else to fill my days with, I am going to be the "room mom" for Gabe's Valentine's Day party. Actually, that's not true, I'm not the room mom, I'm the CRAFT MOM™ (no pressure no pressure)

A few weeks ago, while preparing for the ever so important role as CRAFT MOM™ I did some serious internet research to see what the cool craft would be (total lie, I don't know what's cool when you're five, I know what's cool when you're CRAFT MOM™) (actually that's another total lie, I have no clue what cool is; in truth I wouldn't know cool if it slapped me in the face)

I found the most amazing project; it's a heart shaped bird feeder. We're going to feed our animal friends on Valentine's Day because we care about animals AND people on Valentine's Day, right? Yes, I confidently told Geo, and the kindergarten teacher, that I could handle it, I was ready, and it would be AMAZING.

Except that...the logistics may not work. For one, it involves large amounts of popcorn. (as a side note, the entire Witkowski clan needs to get out more; we excitedly watched the popcorn come out of the air popper like it was a new tv series involving hockey and animals or the Simpsons [Thanks to Grandpa Jeff for searching the garage for the popcorn popper!!} I've never seen the kids-or Geo ha ha-so excited about something in the kitchen. LAME ha ha) Large amounts of popcorn+five year old children=certain disaster. But but but! Let's add something else to the mix. WIRE! Yes, in a fit of CRAFT MOM™ amazingness, I thought it would be a GREAT idea to give the kids sharp wire and popcorn to create a bird feeder.

*shaking head*

What in the HELL was I thinking? Clearly, I wasn't. In a few short hours, I'll be putting on my shoes, grabbing four huge bags of popcorn, a bag of wire, and some yarn and heading out to Kindergarten. All I'm hoping for is no major disasters; no eyes being poked out*, no one choking on popcorn, no lawsuits...

Perhaps as a back up plan, I'll bring the air popper and the popcorn, if we get bored, I can just pop popcorn, if it thrilled US so much, it would probably thrill all the kids right?! Ha ha :)Wish me luck!


*that would be my OWN eye I'm referring to, of course :P

It was a bug day

My friend and I have a little "code word" system for how our day has been. If it's a "bug" day, it's been bad, if it's a "windshield" day, it's a good day :) (as in: sometimes you're the windshield and sometimes you're the bug)

Yesterday was truly a BUG day. We had winter storm warnings in effect, we had to take Geo to work so we could use the car (yay one car families) and Gabe needed to see his occupational and physical therapists. As it turned out, Gabe ended up needing to be casted because his range of motion was in the negative degrees (Normal range of motion is 20 degrees, he was in a BAD way yesterday) We ended up at the rehab hospital (where he does therapy) for almost five hours, which was fine since it was snowing and blowing like crazy outside.

On the way into therapy, we stopped to have lunch and SarahAnne asked me, quietly, "Why does bruhby have to wear braces on his legs? They aren't nice and they hurt him" How in the world do you answer that? I answered with "His legs aren't as strong as they should be, so the braces help him walk and run better" She accepted it with a shrug but hugged him when we got back to the table.

Then at therapy, upon learning he'd need a cast, Gabe flipped out. He told me in no uncertain terms that he was NOT getting a cast and he was not going to be happy if he did. Bits, the little momma, patted his back and said "It's okay, it's alright, it will help you"

We got the cast and headed home, with one very angry Gabriel in the backseat. He and I had the conversation I've been dreading for the last six years. The "why am I different" conversation I was hoping to NOT have to deal with a)right now and b)by myself.

It went something like this:
Gabe: I hate this stupid cast and I don't want it on

Mom: I know honey, but you have to, it makes your leg stronger

Gabe: Why do I have to have a cast, no one else does?

Mom: Because Gabe, when God made you, you had a hole in your spine, it's not fair, it really stinks, but it happened and now we deal with it and every once in a while you're going to have to have a cast so your leg works like everyone else's.

Gabe: I DON'T WANT A HOLE IN MY SPINE! IT'S NOT FAIR I DON'T LIKE THIS HOLE

Mom: *trying not to cry*

Gabe: It's not fair, no one else has a hole in their spine and I hate this. I don't like this cast and I don't like the hole.

Mom: I know Gabe, I know, I don't like it either.

And then he was silent for the rest of the trip. If you know Gabe, you know this is *not* normal. The child is a chatter box, especially in the car. My poor baby, in so much pain, both physically (it hurts to stretch like he was stretched) and emotionally. It had to be the worst feeling I think I've ever experienced, nothing I could do or say would ease his pain. Truly, a bug day :(

This morning, thankfully, he's in a better mood. He just took a marker and wrote his name on his cast and said that it's "cool" because he knows he's stretching and growing, so that's something. Maybe this morning's excitement shook him out of his funk-literally shook him. We had an earthquake this morning. First a blizzard, now an earth quake. Yes, in Northern Illinois, a 4.3 on the Richter scale, earthquake. So weird.

Today has the making of a "windshield day" for sure...I just hope it keeps up that way.

Hey Spina Bifida...

Bite me!

Six years ago, we were gearing up to have Gabriel; a baby, we were told, who more than likely wouldn't walk, wouldn't toilet on his own, and would be very mentally retarded. The doctors couldn't have been more wrong...and as proof, how about a few pics of my "never gonna function normally" kid shoveling snow...

The Countdown Has Begun...

Next week something VERY exciting is happening...Gabriel is turning six...ooooh he could not be more excited about his birthday coming up if he tried. Every single morning and every single night we hear how many days/how many sleeps are left until his birthday. This morning while eating his breakfast he said "Hey Mom, it's almost 2-18 and you know what that means, right?" I played dumb and said "No, Gabe, what DOES it mean?" Exasperated he said "It means your kid is having a birthday, that's what it means" and looked at me disgustedly, because I'm sure he really wanted to say "How could you forget my birthday? MY SIXTH birthday?!" but he's far too polite for that :)

Ah the years have flown by...as my mom has been known to say, "The days are long but the years are short" and oh how true that's proven to be.

Feed Me Seymour

Gabe is a string bean. No really, he's very skinny SLIM and starting to get quite tall. He's about 45 pounds soaking wet and appears to live on cottage cheese and air. People who know Gabe often wonder out loud if he actually eats and how he's growing so well on his all air diet.

In the last week or so, Gabe has been eating, I mean REALLY eating. We had to go out and there was a Portillo's near where we were going to be, so we decided to treat ourselves to a burger and fries. Portillo's burgers are HUGE, I mean they are enormous. I don't think I've ever been able to finish one of their burgers. They're delicious but enormous. Gabriel, my darling itty bitty boy, ate a WHOLE burger and half a large order of fries, and drank half of a large sprite for dinner.

Friday nights are typically a night for junk food, I don't usually cook because we bowl and last night was no exception. We snuck over to Burger King and had a quick bite. Gabe ate a cheeseburger, a small order of fries (which is actually very big, at least I think so) and drank a chocolate milk. In between fries, Gabe asked "If I finish this food can I have a shake, I'm starving"
Geo didn't think he'd finish his dinner, so he said sure and sure enough Gabe finished his entire meal AND then a milk shake. We came home and he asked for a snack! What in the world?! Can you say growth spurt?!

His birthday is coming and we've already decided any and all birthday loot is going toward new clothes. Last week we bought him new undies and socks because none of what he had in his closet fit him anymore. I have a feeling we are going to be dealing with a big boy with a big appetite in the near future. Geo tells me he's going to make up for the last five years of not eating by eating us out of house and home for the next five years...I honestly fear his teenage years.

No one told me that boys start eating like ravenous wolves around the age of six and don't stop (seriously, Geo is 32 and can still eat like a teenage boy, it's scary) If you need me, I'll be scanning the paper for coupons!

Let's Talk...

About the word "retard"...

According to one of my favorite websites, dictionary.com (yes, I am a dork, thanks very much) the word "retard" has been around since about 1480. It means to make slow; delay the development or progress of (an action, process, etc.); hinder or impede.

We all know what retard means, we all ALSO know that it's a derogatory word used to describe a developmentally or physically handicapped person. Retard/retarded used to be a clinical term to describe a handicapped person and is still used that way by some medical professionals, however as a general rule, most people who use the word retarded use it as a derogatory term, usually to mean something is stupid.

Now...I have a child who is, indeed, physically handicapped, retarded, if you will. I don't use the word retard to describe him OR any other handicapped person AND I sure as hell don't use the word retard to describe something stupid. I don't use the word, I don't allow my children to use the word, and I've even been known to tell people to STOP using the word in my home around my children. It's not an acceptable word in my home any more than the "n" word or any other derogatory word that could be used to describe someone/something.

It's no secret that I do NOT like Sarah Palin, can't stand the woman for a myriad of reasons, one of them being the way I feel she exploits her special needs child for political gain, BUT be that as it may, that's not the point of this. The point is, last week Rahm Emanuel used the word "retarded" to mean that something was stupid. I was taken aback as I pretty much love Emanuel and have been a big supporter of the whole Obama entourage since day one.

Sarah Palin, God bless her, took Emanuel to task about his use of the word retard and I thought "Well good for you, Palin, something we can both agree on. Way to go" I had a bit more respect for her after hearing her statement and then the seeing the way Emanuel responded. I thought it was a good thing.

HOWEVER good old Rush Limbaugh decided to go off on one of his trademark rants (gee, can you tell I'm a HUGE fan of his...or not) and used the "r" word repeatedly.

Now, this would have been an excellent chance for Ms. Palin to really get on the boat, to REALLY prove to me (and countless other special needs families) that she wasn't being political when she lashed out at Emanuel and demanded he be fired, that she GENUINELY did not like him using the word; a non partisan rebuke, if you will. But did she? No, she did not. She, through her publicist said "Governor Palin believes crude and demeaning name calling at the expense of others is disrespectful"

Well, thanks Sarah Barracuda, way to make old Rush feel badly. You call for Emanuel's job but can't even mention Rush by name when speaking out about using the word retard? WHAT is wrong with this picture?

Using the word retard as a derogatory slur is WRONG, regardless of who says it. Bi partisan politics be damned, it's wrong and Rush should have been point blank called out on it.

I'm sorry but if Palin REALLY wanted to be an advocate for her special needs son and all of the other special needs children and family in this country, she would have taken Limbaugh to task the way she felt the need to take Emanuel to task. That little bit of respect I had for Palin is gone because CLEARLY this was a political move, not a genuine statement for ALL special needs families and quite frankly, I think it's bullshit. She wants to be respected and thought of as a champion for special needs parents and children all over and can't even take someone like Rush Limbaugh and tell him, point blank, what he did was wrong. Ridiculous.

I'd be happy to tell Limbaugh, to his face, that using the word retard is wrong, it's hurtful, it's derogatory and it's certainly not appropriate for a person of his political and public stature to perpetuate the hate the comes along with the word retard. Grow up and broaden your vocabulary Limbaugh.

Maybe you're like me and don't like the "r word...if so there's a website out there for out there for you to show your support in getting rid of this awful word.

http://www.r-word.org/

Join my family and I as we pledge our support to eradicate this derogatory term in every day speech.

Who is This Woman in the Mirror?

According to my darling boy, we have exactly 14 days-or 13 sleeps, depending on when you ask him, until he is 6. It's going to be an exciting day-school and then pizza and cake with friends-oh to be six again :)

Six...six...I've been a mom for six years. How in the world is this even possible? I mean, I know I'm a mom, the whole giving birth-nursing-never sleeping-changing diapers-teething-toddling-growing up quicker moments have me pegged squarely in the "mom" category.

But what else? How else do I know that I'm a mom? Let's start at the top and work our way down, shall we?

Hair: I have "mom" hair. It's currently in a ponytail because making cookies with your hair in your face is never a good thing. It's colored (lightly, I swear lol)to cover the grey hair that is showing up in alarming numbers these days. It's not super short a la Sarah McLachlan in the 90's nor is it long and sexy a la Sarah McLachlan today. It's mid length, it's dyed to cover the grey and it's currently in a pony tail. I would definitely say this is "mom" hair.

Face: My face hasn't seen more than two full applications of make up since having SarahAnne nearly three years ago. Why? Because if I put it on, I have to take it off. I cannot, like in my younger days, just hop into bed with make up on and wake up none the worse for wear. If I don't take the make up off, it ruins the pillow cases-and since they were kind of expensive, unlike those I had in college, and they MATCH our bedsheets-again, unlike those in college-I really do not want them covered in mascara, foundation, and blue eye shadow (side note: what in the HELL was I thinking wearing blue eye shadow??) There's a whole routine that goes along with getting my face ready for bed...wrinkles be damned, I'm not about to ruin the oils, lotions and potions, and 20 minute routine with make up. (side note number 2: this is a slight exaggeration, it does not take a ton of time nor product to get ready for bed unless, of course, I noticed that there's a new line on the side of my eyes or near my mouth...ha ha) Never mind that neither kid likes being kissed when mom is wearing lipstick and being poked repeatedly in the eye while being asked 'what's this blue stuff on your eyes mom?' is rather uncomfortable. Yeah, mom face.

Hands: Do we really have to go there? Alright, we will...short clipped nails-the better to do dishes, laundry, and finger painting with my dears :) I am fairly certain SarahAnne wears more nail polish than I do. Back in my pre mom days, you might have found a beer in my hand...not so now, living on the edge for me is a diet coke with a lime wedge...and more often than not, I'm just drinking water. Life on the edge my friends, life on the edge!

Body: Stretch marks. Need I say more? I mean, really, what else screams "MOM" like stretch marks? At least, though, they are interesting stretch marks. Once while teaching my very large, very stretch marked stomach made an (accidental) appearance in my class. I was then informed by a helpful child that I had a "Harry Potter" lightning bolt on my stomach. Great to know that "he who shall not be named" couldn't defeat my stomach either...

Shoes: I am NOT embarrassed to tell you all that I love my Crocs. That's right, I wear Crocs. Every single day, even when it's snowing. Geo tells me I should be ashamed of myself because they are CROCS but I find it very hard to be embarrassed when I'm comfortable no matter where I am. Now if only I could find dress Crocs, I'd never have to wear uncomfortable, tight shoes again. Yay Crocs! (what?)

And finally, the clothes, the mom clothes: Yoga pants (check) Old Navy T-shirt (check) Someone else's socks because all of mine are gone (check) Crocs (check check and CHECK)

And that's how I know I am a mom. I have the uniform, I have the attitude, I have the ponytail and the crocs...It's been a gradual revolution, but it seems to me that I can't even remember what I used to look like. I think I left the hospital in 2004 looking like this, which, really, if you think about it, probably isn't a good thing...but what to do about it? Perhaps, a la Rants from Mommyland I shall try a 30 day program to look more like Chrissi and less like Gabe and Bitsy's mom...yes, that's what we'll do. More shoe laces, less crocs (*cries*) more buttons, less yoga pants, and more hair brushing and less pony tails. It ought to be an adventure...one I'm sure will be chronicled here in the Wit Family blog. First things first-I need to change the pillowcases...I'd really hate for them to be ruined by my blue eyeshadow :)

(and check out Rants From MommyLand to check out Lydia's progress..)