Sometimes It's Not About Down Syndrome! Sometimes It's Just About Life!

You know, posting as often as I do about Down syndrome and how it affects our lives can be misleading. You might get the impression that my life revolves around the boys' diagnoses. It soooo doesn't! As a matter of fact, if they didn't wear their diagnoses on their faces, you probably wouldn't notice anything different about my guys versus anyone elses identical, 4-year-old, absolutely adorable and outgoing, did-I-say-identical twins. Yes, they attract A LOT of attention but I don't think it's the DS (not initially anyway). Yes, I spend much of my time chasing them and my old soul down and then riling them back up. It's my job as Mama! And, I would be doing that with or without the DS. The only thing I might not be doing is blogging... Well, that's not true either because I love to write and I love to talk (could you tell?) so this blogging thing is a great outlet for me given the amount of stress we have in our lives. By "we" I mean all of us, these days.


But, just so you know we ARE the "typical" family next door (I'm LOLing out loud as I say that because I realize we are so NOT typical and I can't even begin to explain that to you all except to say it's totally not about the DS). So, here are just a few highlights from the "typical" week I had last week:


1. Our newly adopted (4 mos ago), 2-year-old Miss Molly Boxer tore up a brand new bag of hickory smoked charcoal briquettes that a neighbor gave us (she apparently didn't notice the gas grill) and proceeded to drag hundreds of the briquettes all over the living room. Serves me right for trusting her out of the kennel for the 1 1/2 hours while I chauffeured the kids to school. The shabby-chic, antique, hand-me-down, family heirloom rug from my sister now has a nice charcoal grey hue to it... looking shabbier than ever. Chic? Not so much! Guess it goes with the rest of the house now!


2. Michael was playing ball with said boxer when I heard a teeny tiny voice being drowned out by running water say, "Oh Nooooo. Ball!" I arrived in the bathroom out of breath from the sprint just in time to pry the tennis ball out of the tennis-ball-sized hole at the bottom of the toilet with great effort... just before the potty overflowed.


3. Aforementioned Boxer had 15 minutes to kill while I ran out to pick up Wendy's with the kids. Lest she get bored, she tore up one of the boys' poopy diaps and dragged it ALL OVER the charcoal-hued living room rug. Suffice it to say, I think we invented a new color here. Ugh!


4. Brian found the new 25 lb bag of Meow Mix leaning against the kitchen cabinets and scooped more than half of it out all over the kitchen and hallway floors right after I finished vacuuming. Looked like a Meow Mix sand box in there. And, it was a race against me, the two dogs and the two cats to see who could eat the most Meow Mix before Mommy cleaned it up. Did I mention that Meow Mix doesn't agree with our other, sainted, 13-year-old Chow Chow dog, Bubba? Just something more for me to clean... Hopefully not on that living room rug again!


5. Said Boxer found another free moment (God, remind me... why did I adopt this dog?) and tore open a large box of books someone gave us for the kids. About 15 books lost their covers and most of their pages. My poor old soul was sifting diligently through the wreckage looking for and trying to reorder all the pages she could find from one particular book she loved about a fat cat who had 4 kittens.


6. During this rampage, the holy terror dog also managed to fetch hubby's latest political manifesto book off the top of the tv where he left it (I keep telling him to put his stuff away where it belongs) and did quite a bit of damage to that too. Oddly, this last act of home-soil terrorism ended with Miss Molly sound asleep on grandma's jacket and the boys' sweatpants which she pulled off of the back of the wing chair and couch. This must have taken great effort because I found the very large and heavy wing chair tipped over and dragged halfway down the hallway. Apparently, this final act was an effort to be surrounded by the scents of those she loves. Note that none of MY belongings were in her sleeping pile. Might have something to do with the repeated reprimands for her naughty behavior that she's been subjected to all week. (That's putting it mildly!)


7. I did, however, find one of my shoes -- I'd call it a dress shoe but only because it's not a sneaker or work boot -- inconspicuously hidden in the tall grass of the back yard in the pouring rain -- which is a good thing, because it was washing away the huge bird poop on it. That means, Miss Molly must be in cahoots with the birds now too. I don't know why they would revolt against me though... all I ever did to them was feed them. I'll have to rethink that little kindness (LOL).


So, it was NOT a good week. Lots of stress. But, let me tell you THAT is one LUCKY dog. Lucky she got rescued and lucky I didn't kill her last week. She'll be spending a lot of her "free" time in the kennel going forward until she gets it out of her system.


The moral of the story? I'm STILL standing! What doesn't destroy us WILL make us stronger! That applies to you, me, my children, your children, all of us! Down syndrome is just one aspect of our lives. Just one bright, rainbowy panel in the complex prism that is my life!