Peanut peanut butter

Shelly is the one and only friend that I still have from high school AND college.  Amazing.  (I would call her my "oldest" friend, but when I called another friend "old" she requested that I not use that word in conjunction with her name.  Thus I have learned from Debbie Martin not to use the word "oldest friend" as it has a double meaning that may not be flattering to the friend in question).  The first memory that popped into my mind was Shelly's mom who passed away recently (is it recently or is it years now?), how when I decided I was not a meat eater, she was convinced that I just had not been eating the good meats that were out there.  She would say to me, "But this is REALLY good sausage."  Her mother was determined to be the one to turn me back onto meat, I appreciated her attempts to feed me. 

In college, Shel and I roomed together our freshman year and shared our love of Hall & Oats, peanut butter, and many trips to the local TCBY (for what else but peanut butter yogurt). 

Shelly now lives in St. Louis with her husband and 3 beautiful daughters.  I love watching Shelly with her daughters because one or all three of them are constantly touching her or crawling on top of her or sitting on her lap or holding her hands.  It's like they just cannot get enough of her.  The time before our last visit, Ellie wanted to read a book and Shelly immediately sat down with Ellie and her 3 girls and began to read.  When we visit, Shelly always has a spread like you wouldn't believe, carrying on her mother's tradition of feeding me (or at least attempting to).  I would say, Shelly and Jeff are some of the finest hosts that I know.   When you are in their home it just seems as if they are truly happy to have you.  Because of this, every time we are in the St. Louis area we make plans to see them.  During one visit,  I started eating this wonderful quiche, I just could not get enough of it, so yummy was it.  When I asked about it, the whole room got quiet while Jeff & Shel sort of had a quizzical look on their faces.  Then, as comprehension appeared on Shelly's face, she said, "Oh you mean the DIP?"  Oops.  Then, of course, I had to go back and try it as a dip. 

When we went to visit them last summer, it was fanfreakintastic.  Shelly allowed Ellie (hey they even rhyme!) to follow her around the house while she prepared a SPREAD (even though I made the visit at a time when she would not feel obligated to cook for us!)  Shelly prepared the infamous dip that I had so enjoyed the previous time and her daughter, Anna, recalled that Ellie loved chips.  Then once she had everything prepared, Ellie sat down beside Shelly and we all sat around and chit chatted while the rest of the kids sat on the floor and played.  It was unbelievably amazing because so many times Ellie gets lost if there is a crowd of people, feeling as if she is excluded.  But in this situation, somehow, magically we all felt included and loved.  It was spectacular.  I mean before this incident it barely felt possible that there would be a situation where we could actually sit with another family and have an enjoyable conversation, one where I did not feel as if I constantly needed to assist Ellie in taking turns or assist her in feeling included or figure out when there was a pause so she might share her story.  It was like a breath of fresh air to be able to just sit back and relax and connect with the people around us while Ellie was also feeling connected and loved.  So often in these situations I can see the person Ellie is talking with begin to lose interest in talking with her.  Shelly never got to that point, she just stayed connected the whole time.  We ended up staying much longer than I ever anticipated because it was just so magically delicious.  My hope is that some day I will make guests in my home feel as loved and welcome as Shelly did last July.

Happy Birthday, Shel, we are all so happy that you and your family are in our lives!

And now we return to yet another library story...

[caption id="attachment_2207" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Ellie and I not at the library."][/caption]

I know what you are thinking, "For crying out loud!  What could have possibly happened at the library THIS time??"  More plants knocked down?  Another hurt child?  Ruined books?  What could it be??"  (See "Another Not So Pretty Do-Over Story")

As you may or may not know I have been challenged for many years with a librarian phobia.  (I may be repeating myself here, if I am, feel free to skim this part, I'll never know the differance.)  It all started in college when I worked at a library one summer and one of the librarians would follow me around as I worked correcting my many mistakes.  Until finally I could not take it anymore and quit.  Then in La Grange one of the librarians asked Ellie if she "had something wrong with her" when she got upset to which, I responded by sending a highly charged e-mail.  I mean seriously, would you ever ask that of an adult patron?  Surprisingly, the next time we came to the library this same librarian was ultra nice to us.  That kind of nice where there is an "I'm sorry" planted inside.  Weird huh?  Oh and then there was another time that Ellie threw up at the library and Jenny and I tried to see if we could get some help cleaning it up to no avail.  Well, it seems that the tide has turned my friends.  In a HUGE way.  Here are my examples.

[caption id="attachment_2208" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Love of books started early for Ellie. Beginning when she would not crawl on all fours b/c she could not hold books unless she sat and scooted instead."][/caption]

It all began at the Madison Main Branch when Ellie & I were checking out (Ben was holding the gate open for library patrons) and Ellie began to tell the librarian how much we love books and how much we love the library.  The two librarians checking us out were thrilled.  They told Ellie that they wished they had a television camera so they could make a commercial out of her comments.  HELLO.  I cannot tell you how many many times in the past Ellie has said this to a librarian only to either be ignored or responded to with a noncommittal, "Hmm."  Discouraging any further discussion.

[caption id="attachment_2211" align="alignright" width="300" caption="More books to love..."][/caption]

But wait, there's MORE.  At our local library, recently, Ellie & I arrived at the front desk.  Ellie told the librarian checking us out that we likove (like + love) the library.  To which the librarian, laughing, told Ellie that they loved us for loving the library.   About knocked me over.

Finally, again at our local branch, one day Ellie began to tell the librarian how she likoved to make up words.  To which the librarian responded by saying how he loved words and any time she wanted to teach him new words he would be happy to learn them.  And on a subsequent visit, this same librarian told Ben how

[caption id="attachment_2212" align="alignright" width="300" caption="More reading in bed..."][/caption]

much he too loved dinosaurs when he was growing up.  Chatty and friendly at the LIBRARY??  It is totally blowing my mind, this complete turn of events.  It seems that we have arrived into a parallel universe where librarians are in fact friendly and helpful.  Seriously.  Now if everyone would start singing and dancing, like that scene in Music Man at the library (Marian the Librarian) this would in fact be the perfect world I've dreamed of.  That and maybe pink fancy cupcakes to replenish ourselves after all the dancing and singing.

Oprah!

My brother Kip is a HUGE Oprah fan, he records the show every day.  When I told him that I was invited to be in the audience by my super friend Betsy C.  he was dumbfounded.  He has tried for years and years to get tickets to no avail.  And I mean for crying out loud he works in the movie biz, how did I get tickets first?  When I explained the dress I was going to wear to him, he paused.  One of those pregnant pauses where you can feel the other person thinking, "Oh NO, you are NOT going to wear THAT?"  But instead of feeling like the dress was not the appropriate choice, instead I thought, I just didn't explain the dress correctly because this dress is perfect.  It would be what Oprah would want.  For sure.   

One of the things I was most excited about was having the opportunity to hang out with Betsy for the afternoon something that happens far less than I would like.  It was also amazing how the few days before the event, everything just rolled right off me.  Anything that on another day might have caused me to go into "Oh boy, I've really messed up.  I'm a bad mom."  Made me think instead, "I'm going to OPRAH!!"  It was an outstanding feeling not to take things so personally, but to instead just know that all was well and would indeed work itself out whether I felt bad about it or felt good about something else.  And it was fabulous to have something other than medical things to phone about. 

We discovered that being in the Oprah audience is a whole lot like being an extra in a movie--a LOT of waiting around.  You are herded from one line to the next and then into a large waiting area.  It is really really well organized and the staff, for the most part, was friendly and helpful.  As we were waiting in our first line, it sort of felt like entering another country.  The whole experience was enhanced by the airport like security,  we went through the metal detectors and had our bags searched.  Then we waited and waited and waited in the upstairs waiting area that had lots of HUGE pictures of Oprah with various guests.  We had no idea how long we waited because our phones had been confiscated and who wears a watch anymore? (No offense if you are in fact wearing a watch right now.)  I started out wearing my Tiara from my coaching program because I really felt like Oprah would get the whole Tiara thing.  Some of the security guards really liked it and would call me "your highness" as they ushered us through.  I sorta lost my nerve after I signed a waiver saying that I would not be advertising anything on the show.  I liked my sister's response to the whole thing, "You wore it at the perfect time."  Loved the feeling of confidence that statement made. 

Finally, they started calling the people to sit in the front rows (guests and guests of the guests plus some special audience members.) 
We were number 274, so we were the last group to be seated.  One of the most exciting parts was moving from the waiting area to this dimly lighted hallway to the studio, that was when the excitement was really building for me.  Then suddenly we were there and looking for seats.  A woman came out and interacted with the audience for maybe a good half hour, finding out who was there with their moms, who had an anniversary, etc.  The other thing that I liked the most was the feeling of the audience, it was like everyone was cheering and excited for everyone else there.  The energy and excitement in the room was palpable.  Then, the camera people started moving around and suddenly it was time for Oprah to make her appearance.  The thing Betsy & I noticed was how she walked out, just like a woman ready to do her job.  Of course the entire audience stood when she came out and clapped.  Oprah immediately said "I love you all that much too, I really do."  And you really believed her, feeling the love in the room.  She did seem shorter than I expected and it seemed like she was having a really hard time walking in her extremely high heels.  The set up on stage was a table with high backed chairs.  The stage actually rose once Oprah sat down.  Everything felt much more orchestrated than when watching it at home.  Oprah came read the prompts, showed a video, had a couple of different guests join her on stage.  At the end of the taping Oprah wanted to re-do the ending because she wanted one of the guests to be in the closing shots.  Apparently one of the crew did not want to re-shoot it and Oprah told him (and the audience) you know it is the name "Oprah" on the show so  let's do it again.  Yes it was a bit snotty, but what I liked about it was that it was REAL, she was having a moment of frustration with a co-worker like all of us do.  Then we re-did one other segment where her mic was covered by a book (that we received called Half the Sky).  Then it was over and we went back outta Oprah land into Chicagoland. 

 The show will be aired on OCTOBER 1.  I do not think you will see me in the audience, but it was a terrific topic nonetheless.

Perfection

[caption id="attachment_2185" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Yet another funny face Ben photo, taken by none other than Ben himself."][/caption]

Friday was another bright blue skies, warm autumn afternoon.  As we began to walk Ellie home from school, Ben stated that he wanted to walk right beside his "best sister".  He even wanted to hold her hand.  When Ellie protested the hand-holding, Ben insisted that they do so when crossing the street.  Ellie kept sighing and uttering, "He is so adorable!"  Ben made great effort to walk right beside Ellie, stopping when she stopped to sing a little song.  Then continuing at a slower pace than his usual jog/run home, even inventing a special step that would keep him in line with his best sister.  (He sort of made his legs look like a horse to do so.) And, of course, I was his best mommy and Thom was, you guessed it, his best daddy.  It was one of those parenting moments where I felt the total love and appreciation for my children and who they have become and simultaneously felt all the years of wanting my children to understand and love one another come to fruition.  I just wanted to bottle the moment up and carry it with me always.  Amazing it was.   Utter perfection.

St. Vinny's

[caption id="attachment_2173" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="How fabulappy (fabulous + happy) I am to go to St. Vinny's (earrings are in fact a purchase from the aforementioned store.)"][/caption]

Another one of my favorite neighborhood haunts is, of course, the legendary St. Vincent De Paul Thrift Store.  Many of you are quite familiar with this store, as I will use any excuse to peruse possible, including but not limited to, a bike sale (purchased a radio flyer bicycle w/ training wheels for $5) an end of season sale, a visiting guest who needs a book, sweatshirt, new wardrobe...When I walk into a thrift store I have that sudden rush of feeling that I can have anything in the store.  I feel like waving a 20 around and announcing, "I'll take it all!"  Ben has begun to enjoy this feeling and asks quite often for a visit to St. Vinny's for a look at their toy aisle (he is allowed to spend a whopping dollar and usually ends up w/ several toys for that amount.)  My favorite spot, besides the magnificent, well-organized and

[caption id="attachment_2180" align="alignright" width="225" caption="How fabulappy Ben feels when he gets himself a dollars worth of toys."][/caption]

extremely reasonably priced books, is the $1 rack.  I have found so many spectacular tops, crazy pants, skirts on this rack.   That's not even to mention the earrings for $2-4.  I love it when I find a person who is just as excited about me finding something there at the dollar rack (you know who you are.)  I am in fact the person that Ellen Degeneres joked about one day on her show that some people actually brag about how cheap their clothes are rather than how expensive.  That's me.  Cheap bragger.

Last week (or was it the week before?)  Ben & I were perusing the store.  When we went to check out, the female checker (Ben & Ellie's favorite kind of checker) looked disappointed.  She inquired if Ellie was at school.  I said that yes she was.  It sort of

[caption id="attachment_2177" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="How namused (not + amused) Ellie feels to find herself in St. Vinny's with 2 browsers (the opposite of a fast shopper such as herself)."][/caption]

caught me off guard as I always feel somewhat invisible in the store.  The attempts I have made to hold conversations with some of the employees have been unsuccessful, simply eliciting a mumbled "huh" to get me to NOT share any more information with the person.  Of course not all the employees are like this, but I suppose those are the ones that have left me feeling somewhat invisible and less chatty during check-outs.  But I digress.  The checker then went on to say how impressed she was with how polite Ellie is, always saying her "pleases and thank yous and your welcomes."  She said this was quite a contrast to some of the other

[caption id="attachment_2175" align="alignright" width="300" caption="How fabulappy Thom is when we save money!"][/caption]

young customers she sees (fortunately, she did not look pointedly at our Ben!)  It was quite a boost to have such high praise for sweet Ellie in an environment where I don't often think anyone there will remember us.  And it was quite a shock too because I had just written my "tolerating" blogs and here was yet another person in the position of appreciating all of the wonderful things about Ellie.

Say what you need to say

[caption id="attachment_2167" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Hats on, ready for a walk! Taken by our family photographer, Ben."][/caption]

There is this crosswalk that we take every day to school.  Last year, when we were trying to traverse this intersection, it became apparent to me that the traffic signal was off.  As we had a walk sign, it seemed that there was a green right arrow because cars just kept whipping around the corner.  You can imagine how terrifying it was with a 3 and 8 year old trying to zoom across amidst that kind of traffic.  After it occurred, I called Thom.  Thom quickly called the city from the safety of his cubicle and asked them to change the signal.  And they did right away.  Now when we push the walk sign, every car has a red.  Yeah! 

Recently, we were walking home from school and had made it to the intersection.  Well, right as we were crossing the intersection, this pick-up started turning left.  Practically running right into Ben.  Before I could stop myself, I yelled, "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!"  Pretty harsh, eh? Now this may not seem like a big step, but usually I think of a comeback many hours after an event has occurred, as I am stewing over it.  Obviously, we made it safely to the other side.  As the light changed, I noticed a car trying to turn right, the driver seemed afraid to turn, lest I turn some of of my venomous wrath onto him.  Knowing that we would take awhile to cross, I insisted he go ahead and turn before we start.  It was sort of empowering actually saying what I wanted to say when it happened and seeing others in our environment responding.

Tolerating Part II: What I REALLY want

[caption id="attachment_2160" align="alignleft" width="228" caption="Jennifer and her baby, Alex."][/caption]

When you know what you don't want, you more easily know what you DO.  I guess ultimately, I am wanting to be like my friend and book club leader, Jennifer.  Sometimes at book club, there will be tension between different members.  I can sense that there is some friction and I start feeling uneasy.    I start feeling uncomfortable as if I need to protect the member that isn't being appreciated.  Not Jennifer, she maintains her friendly demeanor and just continues to enjoy book club.  Even though she too can sense the tension, she just doesn't even go there, she simply allows everyone to be where they are and continues to spread her joy.  That is totally how I strive to be, even if someone is not appreciating Ellie, that I would merely continue on my merry way.  That I wouldn't end up feeling as if I have to explain or fix the situation in any way shape or form.  Because honestly, it is none

[caption id="attachment_2159" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Adorable baby Alex, the most agreeable baby ever."][/caption]

of my business what anyone thinks of Ellie.  And what anyone thinks of Ellie does not bother Ellie in the least.  Ellie just goes right on being herself, telling her stories regardless.  Like Jennifer, Ellie is so willing and able to allow others around her to be who they are AND where they are without taking any of it personally. 

The other piece of it is that when I see others interacting with Ellie in such a kind, connected, patient way it reminds me of how I want to be with her more often.  (By the way, Jennifer is most definitely one of the people that treat Ellie with warmth and humor and dignity and patience.  It is wonderful to witness her interacting with either one of my children.) It is way too easy to get caught up in daily chores/routines and just sort of ignore what Ellie is saying to me as she tells me the same story for the 50th time that day.  From witnessing my mom interact with Ellie I know that there is a way to come at these stories that makes them fresh and new each and every time.  All of these amazing people are like a gentle reminder, a post-it note recall, to get myself back on track.

Tolerating

[caption id="attachment_2147" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Ellie not at physical or occupational therapy"][/caption]

This summer we signed up for Physical Therapy and Occupational Therapy at a local hospital because our hospital was completely booked.  Every week we would traipse to both therapies on different days.  The thing that struck me was how the therapists who worked with Ellie really did not seem to have any connection with her whatsoever.  Not that they were unkind, they weren't.  They just didn't seem to "get" her like some people do.  Rather, they seemed to tolerate her.  I finally got to the point where I was tired of being tolerated and it was at the point where Ellie really didn't have enough energy to do much besides go to the therapies that I finally gathered my courage and bailed on the whole thing.

Then we went to register for school and we walked in and several people came up to Ellie just to say "hi".  Some others listened to Ellie as she explained Jabool (Joy + Button + school), and taught them many of her words.  It was phenomenal.  And I thought, "See this is what

[caption id="attachment_2149" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="We much prefer, Hug Therapy..."][/caption]

I'm talking about!"  At her school and at the hospital Ellie is treated like a super star.  People at these locations authentically enjoy interacting with Ellie and can see the many gifts she has to offer.

A week later, Ellie, Ben & I were at Willy Street Co-op when Ellie started having a seizure, it was small and she was able to come out of it on her own.  Then she had another one on our walk home.  For some reason, my response to Ellie having a seizure is to talk MORE LOUDLY to her.  Probably because once when she started going into a seizure a voice inside my head shouted, "NO YOU STAY HERE WITH ME!!!"  And suddenly she came out of it.  As if  that yelling inner voice really worked.  Weird, huh?  So maybe that is why more recently I have begun to actually talk more loudly when I see her

[caption id="attachment_2150" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Or swim therapy, perhaps?"][/caption]

disappearing into a seizure.  Anyway, we  (and by 'we", I mean Thom, aka Dr. Daddy) phoned our endocrinologist to tell her we wanted to get Ellie's sodium level checked (lowered or dropping sodium can cause a seizure), well the endocrinologist wanted us to go to the hospital immediately.  The whole point of this story is to say that we ended up going to the hospital.  As we departed the elevator, Tina, one of the child life workers we have known since Ellie was 4 years old was standing there.  Her face lit up when she saw Ellie and Ellie immediately began telling Tina of her latest word creations.  Tina and one of her colleagues listened intently, having a great time with all that Ellie had to share.  Before they left, Tina told her, "I could just listen to you all day!"  It was like they really GOT Ellie.  That is the BEST and how could I settle for being tolerated after that kind of treatment?  But I suppose the gift that comes out of feeling tolerated is true appreciation for those times when Ellie is not.

The same, but different

[caption id="attachment_2142" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Oh no! I cannot look, it is the dreaded EYE doctor!!!"][/caption]

My friend, CYNTHIA (I assured her that I would always announce if I was talking about her in my blog so she wouldn't feel paranoid every time I said the ambiguous, " my friend") was sharing with me recently how wonderful a recent  doctor's visit was with her daughter.   Cynthia was so impressed with the staff's ability to relate to her daughter, their equipment geared towards her understanding and the doctor's empathy and ability to listen.

It was to the eye doctor, Ellie's most dreaded doctor of all.  In all of our years of doctors visits, the one and only time she has actually run out of the room was at the eye doctor.  They had some machine that was supposed to appeal to children, but for Ellie it was startling and loud.  The woman performing that portion of the visit quickly became impatient w/ Ellie and left.  I recalled how one of the doctors wanted to try a new machine with Ellie to determine her visual capacity.  We came into the room and the doctor explained that he was going to put a gel on Ellie's head.  Ellie immediately began screaming at the top of her lungs, "NOOOOOO!" (For anyone who does not know, Ellie is extremely sensitive to the way things feel and has thrown up when I've tried to put lotion on her in the past.)  The doctor, quite taken aback, stammered, "I mean we are going to use this electormagnetic goobly gop (he used a much more eloquent word which I cannot now recall).  After much negotiation on his part and much screaming on Ellie's, the young doctor or resident finally acquiesced, saying, "I guess we won't be able to do this test today."  As soon as those words were uttered, we all immediately began gathering our belongings and heading for the door.   When the doctor realized his faux pas, he suddenly began to back pedal, "Well, maybe we could just try...."  But at that point it was too late.  I mean we hadn't high fived on the deal, but that deal was sealed.  I recalled how the eye doctor when she informed me that Ellie most likely does not have peripheral vision, she smiled.  I thought, "How strange, to give me this news and smile."  It just didn't seem like the two went together.   Maybe she thought of a joke right at that moment. 

[caption id="attachment_2146" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="Wonderful Caitlyn NOT at the eye doctor."][/caption]

As Cynthia told me of their experience at the eye doctor, I wondered where she had discovered such a wonderful facility.  I thought perhaps the next time we gathered up our courage and made a trip to the eye doctor, I could make an appointment at their clinic.  Turns out we were at the same exact clinic, different doctors, but the same clinic.    It made me suddenly wonder if there was a way to make Ellie's experience at the eye doctor as wonderful as Caitlyn's.  Wouldn't that be amazing?  Wouldn't it be amazing if all the children coming to the clinic, even ones with developmental delays or autism or whatever else could have Caitlyn's experience of feeling loved and understood and having a good time?   Isn't that the real test of how well a clinic or hospital is doing, how well the ones struggling the most are treated?