Tweet's Christmas Photo Shoot

Tweet builds a nest in the Christmas Tree

DQ

Right before he kissed her

From our family to yours

Merry Christmas

Whiskers and Max

Whiskers. What can I say? You were born in the back of a friend's minivan. She went out to her car and there was a momma cat with her litter of kittens,and you were one of those kittens. I think they called you Yoda, but when we adopted you, DQ changed your name to Whiskers. What can I say? DQ was only about ten years old.
Likes: FOOD, eating, sitting on our laps, being annoying.
Dislikes: being hungry, not eating, being inconvenienced, being messed with.
Alias: Whiskey, Biscuit, Fat Cat.
Life's ambition: To eat yourself into oblivion.
Distinguishing characteristic: Beauty
Owner: DQ



Max. You are highly favored among cats. The whole neighborhood loves you. You are the son of Whiskers. You were born into our home to a teen aged unwed mother. You were born an accident. You have purpose. You bring comfort and joy.
Likes: Hunting, wandering, lying under the big cedar tree across the street, being lovable.
Dislikes: Having to stay indoors on Halloween (or any other day).
Alias:Mackie Ferna
Life's Ambition:None
Distinguishing characteristic: fangs
Owner: Kellen


Merry Christmas Whiskers and Max.
We love you.
Both of you.
I think.

Busted

Making Romance

What's New?

The Father - Trying to work his 40-hour-a-week job, keep an eye on the remodel work while also putting trim up in the master bedroom so that we can do some touch-up painting and then finally put our bed back together and sleep in our room again. Oh yeah, he is doing all this while also fitting quite a bit of care giving time in with Kellen.

The Mother - Working, working and more working. Not getting much sleep as she has not been able to sleep in her own bed for a long time. Participating in Kellen's IEP meeting today. Spending time with Kellen. Shopping for area rugs so we can keep our new floor looking like a new floor. Has a brand new addiction...The Strawberry Surfrider at Jamba Juice.

The Daughter - This is a HUGE week for DQ. She is graduating from college on Saturday with her degree in political science. If that was not enough...she is leaving for France on Monday. She is going to be gone for an entire month. She started a blog so that the rest of us can keep up with her travels...it's that French-sounding one included on my blogroll to the right ----->

The Son - Not getting enough sleep, but at least sleeping in his own bed. We set his bed up in a "new" room which used to be DQ's and is a tiny bit larger and in a quieter location. Yesterday he visited with old friends and made faces.
The Dog - She is busy being considerate. She knows we have new flooring in this house...she must. This morning she stood in the middle of the room and looked at me funny. Then she started to retch a bit. I ran for the door to the backyard and threw it open. The she literally sprinted for the backyard. She kept running across the patio until she got to the grass and then, and only then, did she vomit. Now that is consideration. Thoughtfulness. Respect. Regard for all that is new, clean and special.

The Bird - Spending time at Camp Grandma until we are done with the tiling and all of the fumes are out of this house (or at least the one related to the remodel.)

The Cats - Just trying to survive this family and spending more time in the great outdoors. Grabbing a lap when they can.

How about you? What's new?

Neighbors

My backyard is my sanctuary...and fully fenced on all three sides. It's quiet and it's private. Since all the houses in our neighborhood are ramblers...no one can see over our fence into our backyard. I pretty much spend all summer there. One of my favorite things to do after a long day is to walk around my backyard with the hose and water my plants. It's relaxing. It's my sanctuary.



This is our fence in the backyard. We replaced this side a couple of summers ago when the old fence broke down. On the other side of this fence is a rental house. We've lived in our house eighteen years, so we've been through several interesting neighbors in the rental house. Currently the neighbors in this house only speak Spanish.

Last year our rental neighbors brought home a cute puppy. He is a pit bull. He got big really fast. Before we knew it, the neighbors had a second pit bull in their backyard. Now that the weather is getting better I'm in my backyard a lot more...the dogs hear me and attack the fence. They have ruined a couple of the boards already. Every time we see another broken board, Sweet Husband knocks on the neighbor's door and they replace the board.

I have strawberries and flowers planted next to the fence, but I'm afraid to garden there because of the dogs loudly barking and hitting the fence to try to get to me. Yesterday I noticed they had a third dog in the backyard. This one looks like a Labrador. I can see by peeking through the fence that the dogs have completely destroyed the grass back there and spread garbage. I've also noticed that the neighbors have begun to grill their burgers in the front yard instead of the backyard.

Yesterday afternoon as I was driving home from the store, the neighbor's garage door was open and I saw several roosters in a cage.

Sweet Husband called the landlord last night.

Tell me your neighbor stories and make me feel better?

Little Bird, Big World

Mr. Congeniality

Kellen has a thing about the front seat of the car. He likes to sit there. At times it has been a bone of contention between he and his sister. Sometimes in order to get him into the car at all, I have had to sit in the backseat of his dad's car while he claims the front.

Tonight Kellen and I decided to take a drive and brought our dog Zoey with us. We spontaneously dropped-in to visit Kellen's cousins. An hour and a half later my sister-in-law and I were talking as she walked us out to our car. The next thing I know Kellen shocks me by getting into the backseat of the car. I look inside to see Zoey sitting in the front passenger seat.

What I want to know is...who stole my son and replaced him with Mr. Congeniality?

Just Friendly

Zoey likes to lie next to the birdcage and watch Tweet.

A New Addition to the Rat Race

Did you ever see that movie with Cuba Gooding called Rat Race?


There is a scene where Cuba's character wants to steal a bus driver's uniform so he frantically runs into the men's restroom at a rest stop and concocts a story about his wife being outside and in the middle of giving birth. He says he needs the bus drivers jacket, and pants and lastly the driver's hat. When the driver asks why he needs his hat, Cuba says in an exorcist-type voice...it's for her...vaaagina. He so flusters the driver that he hands over his entire uniform.

Kellen saw the movie a few years ago, and at the time, Kellen would walk around imitating the v-word in the exact same dramatic way Cuba says it in the movie. It was one of those things where we wanted to laugh, but didn't dare take the chance of encouraging him to keep saying it.

Fast forward a few years to last night at the dinner table. I had brought a parakeet home from work for Kellen. A client no longer wanted her and even though we've never had a bird before, I thought Kellen might really like her. The bird's name is Suzette, but I thought Kellen might like to rename her.



I was curious to see which name he would come up with. I asked him a couple of times and he didn't respond. I know he likes Shania Twain, so I asked him if he might like to name her Shania. His response was, "No...GINE-A!"...said in the Exorcist voice. I laughed so hard I nearly joked on my dinner.

Somehow I don't think we'll be naming her that. D.Q. suggested we could name her Jay-Jay (in the same spirit as Kellen's original suggestion)...but I think we'll just wait and see which gem Kellen comes up with next.

Puppies

It seems like everyone got a new puppy for Christmas.

Ree the Pioneer Woman got the cutest basset hound named Charlie. She can't seem to stop taking pictures of him. I don't blame her...you should check out his long ears.

Heather at Dooce got a cute puppy too. Coco is adorable.

Even my friend Julie at Baby Island got a Kipper. Now she's got four little ones under three years old. I can't imagine the poop in that house.


I didn't get a new puppy for Christmas, but just so she won't feel left out, here is our dog Zoe.

A Dog Tale

There is an unfortunate combination in this family. We have a son who happens to leave the screen door open quite often, and we have a dog who loves an opportunity to bolt out the door whenever she can.

So, yesterday was interesting. Do you ever feel like your life is a bad sit-com? DQ has a friend staying with us, so we thought it would be fun to invite some of her other friends over last night for a barbecue in our backyard. Of course, DQ and Sweet Husband work on Saturdays, so that leaves Kellen and I home to get everything ready. In reality, that means I am the one getting ready while Kellen is the one driving me crazy.

Kellen was kind of off-kilter most of the day. He seemed hyper-sensitive which I found out when I tried to assist him in washing his hair. He just didn't want to be touched. Not only that, but he woke up with an agenda and failed to inform me of what that agenda was. I was trying to balance my agenda of getting the house ready, with his secret agenda which seemed to mainly consist of going out in the car to get various food and drink.

After the second trip out, I drew the line and said, "No more", then I went out to the backyard patio to sweep and spray it down. While I'm out there, I can hear someone knocking on our screen door and calling out to see if anyone is home. It turns out to be a man from the county going door to door to see if people have their pets licensed. His first question is, "Are there any problem dogs in the area?". I am silently thinking, "Only our OWN!" There's no denying we have a dog, as she is right there at the front door with me. I sheepishly purchase a license for $20, set the license down on the kitchen table and go back out to the patio for more cleaning.

A few minutes later I check on Kellen and he is sitting in the car trying to send me a message that yes, indeed, he does want to go somewhere (in case I've forgotten). I quietly say "dammit!" because I see that he's left the screen door open. I am picturing the guy from the county watching our "problem dog" romping throughout the neighborhood. I check the house quickly and see that Zoey is sleeping in the backyard and silently send up a prayer of thanks that for once she didn't bolt out the open door. I coax Kellen back into the house and go back to my cleaning.

A few minutes later, Kellen has left the front door open again and is out in the hot car waiting for me to take him some place. This time Zoey observed the open front door and is running down the street. I go outside and call for her, but she treats it like a game and romps just out of my reach. Meanwhile, our Mexican next door neighbors are outside watching my lame attempts to catch the dog as they wash their car. I never do catch Zoey and Kellen is not at all interested in coming back into the house with me. I move the car into a shady location, roll the windows down, leave Kellen there and go back into the house.

An hour later, Sweet Husband returns from work and coaxes Kellen out of the car. It is now 90 minutes until guests arrive and there is still a ton to be done. On the way into the house, our Mexican neighbors tell Sweet Husband that they saw a car at the end of our street, open their door, put Zoey on a leash and drive away. He comes into the house to tell me this scary news. I ask him for more details, but all the neighbor told him was that it was a four-door car. I get on the computer and start making a couple of signs to post at the end of the street while Sweet Husband starts cutting up tomatoes and onions for pico de gallo.

Our daughter and all of her guests arrive and want to know where the dog is. It tell them the saga of the dog-napping and they go off to check out my posted signs and to buy a watermelon. They come back with a very cute little watermelon and tease me about the wording on the signs. They say, "Our dog is MISSING from this spot". I thought it somehow important to let people know where she was last seen.

We go on to have a really fun party. There was eating, music, dancing, Balderdash!, and picture taking. Kellen enjoyed everyone, but especially the hamburgers. The new medication he is on increases his appetite and causes him to fixate on food. He ate two hamburgers and stood staring at the rest of the burgers until we finally took them back into the kitchen. Then he stood and stared at the spot where the burgers were last seen.During the party, I kept thinking, "I think I just paid $20 to license a dog that we no longer have.

Later that night, it was really sad to lock our doors knowing that somewhere our puppy was out in the world without us. I prayed that someone was taking good care of her.

This morning, Sweet Husband and DQ were back at work and Kellen was still in bed (no doubt dreaming about cheeseburgers). I took the phone into the bathroom with me so I would hear it in case anyone called about our dog. Sure enough, in the middle of a relaxing bath, the phone rings and it someone who found Zoey. I asked them were they were located and they said, "You know where you posted the sign? That is right where we live." Which of course, is at the end of our street. I dry off and while I am throwing on some clothes, there is a knock at the door. I am wondering if somehow the neighbors with our dog decided I was taking too long and brought her back to our house. I yell, "Just a minute!!" and quickly throw on a shirt and sweatpants (for respectability's sake).

I open the door and it is the mail carrier. Do you know Express Mail can be delivered on Sunday morning?! The slowest mail carrier in the world has me sign for the package (which is for our house guest) and asks me what time it is (for his records). Finally I get rid of him, grab a leash and walk up the street to "the spot" to retrieve Zoey. A woman with several piercings opens the door and hands me my dog. I am kind of thinking that the story of the four-door car and the dog-napping was rather false (or at least a miscommunication due to the Spanish-English translation). As I'm walking Zoey back home, I notice Kellen's unlicensed cat Max lounging on top of our Mexican neighbor's newly washed car.

p.s. After I get Zoey home, I give her food and water. After her meal, she licks her chops and then whines at the front door to go back out. She has never whined in her entire life! I am thinking she liked her "new home" better. Maybe there was less chaos?

Sweet

Just how sweet is Sweet Husband?

Lately when Kellen goes to bed at night he asks for his cat Max. Max is of great comfort to pretty much everyone in this family, but especially Kellen.

Max has a life of his own and only pays us a visit once a day or so (if we're lucky). The other night it was time for bed and Kellen was asking for Max, but Max was nowhere to be found. We stood out in the front yard and called him, but he didn't appear.

What did Sweet Husband do? He went into Kellen's room and proceeded to pretend to be Max for the next several minutes. He purred, he nuzzled, he rubbed his face against Kellen's arm. These antics made Kellen laugh. Sweeeet!

Getting All Googly (Down Syndrome Edition)

There are lots of people out there searching on "Down syndrome" and a few of them are finding their way to this blog...poor souls.

Here are a couple of related ones: "Down syndrome singing talent" and "Down syndrome people singing funny". If anyone knows someone with an extra 21st chromosome who has singing talent, could you please leave me a comment? I am wondering if that person exists. If you were looking for "singing funny", well, leave me a comment too. I can help you there.

Someone from Toronto searched on "Down syndrome 16 year old birthday present". One word: cellphone (or is that supposed to be two words?) I blew it on this one and now we are waiting to get him one for his 17th birthday. I'll let you know if we can hold out that long. If your teenager older has a cellphone, you can always try a bird. Related to this search was the "down syndrome people get driver licenses". Yes, I did post a little funny related to that very subject.

What's with the phrase "down syndrome people"? Maybe there are other creatures with Down syndrome? Such as the mice at Stanford? Someone else is curious too as they searched on "possibility of down syndrome in cat". I don't know if our cat Max has DS, but he certainly seems to have low-muscle tone. We call him the "boneless kitty". In fact, I once had a friend ask me if Max had special needs. I'm not sure if he has special needs, but he certainly meets Kellen's needs.

Someone from Canada searched on "happy feet down's syndrome". Interesting. Kellen doesn't have happy feet. I did post on the movie Happy Feet and how it made me think about our life with Kellen.

Someone from Spain searched on "Down syndrome ear". Now those I just love.They are the best, so soft and pliable. I just love to play with Kellen's ears. I bet you would too, if you could. Maybe you have your own kid with fun ears?

Here is another good search, from London, "a day in life of a care assistant looking after someone with downs syndrome". I can tell you it will have it's ups and downs, but it will probably one of the jobs you will truly love. It will change you. It will teach you so much about yourself. You will be taught more than you will have taught. In fact if you live in Western Washington, leave me a comment and we can have Kellen school ya.

Here is my favorite: "what is the net contribution of someone with down syndrome".There is not enough room on this, or any, blog to fully answer that question. I only hope you get the opportunity to experience if for yourself.

Why I Married Him...

This morning was chilly. Sweet Husband went out with Kellen and our dog, Zoey, to wait for the school bus while I was inside getting ready for work. Shortly thereafter, Husband bursts back into the house and says, "I need a bag! The dog just made a huge McSteamy on the neighbor's lawn."

If Only She Could...

The other day Kellen was sitting on the couch in the family room eating a sandwich. Our dog, Zoey, sat there with woeful eyes hoping for a morsel to be tossed her way. Instead, Kellen said, "Go away dog, GET YOUR OWN!"

Concept: Mastered

Sometimes it takes awhile for us to be sure that Kellen has understood a concept. He is wonderful with his cat, Max, but sometimes we have to remind him to be careful how he holds him. We'll use phrases such as, "don't hold him so tight", "you're hurting him", "make sure you put your arm under his bottom". The other day Kellen's dad was holding Max and started to sing. Kellen cried, "Daaaad, you're hurting him!!"

Bingo, concept mastered.

The Social Therapy Cat

Max belongs to Kellen and Kellen belongs to Max.

Max has lived with us since the day he was born to our other cat, Whiskers. He had the sweetest personality of the four kittens, so when they were old enough, we gave the other three to co-workers and kept Max for Kellen. Kellen nicknamed him "Mackey Ferna". We have a pretty good idea where the "Mackey" came from, but no idea where Kellen came up with "Ferna".

We once had a friend ask us if Max had special needs. You see, he is generally so relaxed that he is positively floppy. Like Kellen, he appears to have low muscle tone. He is very calm and tolerant. Kellen can sling him over his shoulder and carry him like Tarzan would. We are constantly saying, "Kellen put your hand under his bottom" so that his lower half won't be dangling as Kellen carries him around the house.

During the years when Kellen started to have a lot of problems with not wanting to go the places that we wanted him to go (to bed, to school, to speech therapy) Max became Kellen's transitional object. If he didn't want to go to the speech therapist, I'd ask him if he wanted to take Mackey. He would pick up his cat and get into the car. If he didn't want to go out to the school bus, I'd tell him that he could bring Mackey. He would clumsily board the bus with the gangly cat in his arms, give him to one of the other students to hold, then sit down and buckle his seat belt. I would then board the bus, take Max from the student, have Max "kiss" all the students good-bye, get off the bus with Max and help him wave his paw as the bus pulled away. Thank goodness for patient school bus drivers! There were even times that I drove Kellen and Max to school and Kellen became an instant "celebrity" when the kids rushed over to him to pet Max.

Another important role that Max has played in Kellen's life is that of best friend. Once when Kellen had been in the hospital for an angioplasty, he came home very groggy from the anesthesia. Max must have slept on his lap for four hours as Kellen gently stroked him until he felt better. Max always seems to know when Kellen needs him, isn't that what best friends are for?

Up From the Grave, He Arose

Yesterday as I opened the front door to take a look at the frozen tundra that is our front yard, our fluffy, black cat Max came meowing towards me. As usual, he had chosen to spend a chilly night outdoors as opposed to being locked inside our cozy house. I wrapped him in a big towel and brought him in to be cuddled by my son. I knew that would warm him up.

Max and Kellen have always had a special relationship, which I'll write about at another time. This time I'll tell you about the day we buried Max. It was a rainy June day shortly after the kids got home from school. There was a knock at the door and I opened it to find the stricken face of my next door neighbor. She asked me carefully if I had seen Max lately. I thought for a second and said that I hadn't. This wasn't at all unusual as Max has an outdoor life that's all his own. Often he will lurk about under shrubs or lounge under the gigantic cedar tree across the street which has branches low to the ground where he can lie undetected. We also suspect that he may have another family or two who lets him in their house and feeds him better food then he can get at home. Who could resist? Max has an incredibly amiable personality, more like a friendly dog, then a snooty cat.

When my neighbor heard my answer, her face looked even more alarmed and she hestantly told me that her husband had called her crying while on his way to work. He was driving down the highway a couple of blocks from our houses and had seen a dead, black cat on the side of the road. He was pretty sure it was Max. My heart froze and refused to beat for a moment or two.

My brave 17 year old daughter offered to go with our neighbor and see if it was Max, while I paced through the house trying to busy myself so as not to think. About fifteen minutes later my tearful daughter returned carrying a piece of cardboard with a very wet, very dead, black cat sprawled over it. She went out into the backyard and buried it under our large cherry tree. She then sat on the car, in the rain and had a ceremony for Max with songs and scriptures.

Meanwhile, I was in the house grieving. I was wracking my brain trying to figure out what I should say to Kellen and when I should say it. He seemed totally oblivous to the ceremony in the backyard only yards beyond the window behind the couch where he sat watching television. I don't know what he understood about death and its permanence. I reflected on their incredibly close relationship. Max was the one true friend who was always there for Kellen in good times and in bad. The one friend who didn't care if Kellen could communicate verbally, or not. I couldn't imagine how that could end so quickly. For the time being, I chose not to tell him anything until I had enough brain cells working to plan a strategy.

I called my husband at work and relunctantly told him the horrible news. Then I crawled into bed with a box of Kleenex and cried and cried. A couple of hours later, I pulled myself together enough to get on the computer and start emailing my friends for sympathy. I didn't feel up to talking to anyone on the phone just yet. I heard the door open and looked up to see my husband walking into the house with a very alive Max in his arms! I was so startled to see Max that I jumped out of my chair and across the room. I literally felt like I had seen a ghost cat. One who most have crawled from his grave, licked himself clean and ran to meet my husband as he pulled into the driveway.

Yes, it was someone else's unfortunate fluffy, black cat. It wasn't Max.

You know how when you've lost someone you think, "How can it be true? I just saw him yesterday. Please, please, God, don't let it be true. Bring him back." Then your heart faces the reality of it. Yes, they are gone and there is no changing that. They are gone and they're not ever coming back. I felt like somehow God heard my internal plea. He knew that we couldn't face losing Max, not yet. He knew how important Max was to our entire family, but especially Kellen. He knew that Max hadn't finished his mission of comfort, here on Earth.

We opened a big can of tuna and Max quietly ate his fill. I'm sure he was wondering, "What'd I do? What'd I do?". Kellen was none the wiser. Overjoyed, we went out for pizza at Kellen's favorite restaurant and laughed until we cried...again.