Window Ninja

We have made for ourselves a challenge: the air conditioner shall be off. And when I say, "we" I mean, "those who pay the electric bill." We are not heartless, we will turn it on eventually. But we have a pond in our back yard in which sweaty kids can easily cool off. And we have a lot of windows.

We like to be responsible financially, but we are also lazy. Some of our windows are high up in a loft and shutting them requires the use of a ladder. Too. Much. Work. Sweating is just easier.

But, Iowa called our bluff. After sweating through the worst of the afternoon, mother nature rolled in a giant storm. There is no storm like the thunderstorms Iowa can produce after a muggy day. It cooled down 15 degrees in less than 5 minutes, and the air smelled like life and health.

But the windows.

Each person was assigned a set of windows to rush and close. I'm not sure why, but we chose Drake to shut the hard ones in the upper echelons of the loft. The poor kid had been sick and spent the day knocked out from NyQuill, but we had no mercy on him. To the loft he obediently ran.

But then he handled that task like a ninja: scaling the wall like a spider, holding himself in the window well by use of muscle alone, and floating down to earth unharmed.

I wonder how he would do it if he wasn't sick and drugged up on NyQuill.

Lost In The Age Gap

The youngest child in a family of four kids has a hard time finding the snacks they love the most. The best snacks are gulped down in a matter of seconds by the strongest and oldest, which is why Emery's birthday list looked more like a grocery list. She had things on there like Poptarts, Mountain Dew, and her all time favorite, Goldfish Crackers.

Imagine her surprise when her grandma gently handed her a gift bag and told her to open it carefully.

"Do you like it?" Grandma asked.

"Um, it's a goldfish," Emery stated.

"I know!" 

"I guess I have a fish now,"Emery said, trying to muster some excitement.

"I know!"

"Did you want me to have a fish?"

"Well," Grandma said, pleased with herself, "it was on your list."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Your mom gave me your list, and it clearly said, 'goldfish.'"

Now her list says things like: Strawberry frosted Poptarts in the box and found in the breakfast aisle, Mountain Dew in cans in the pop aisle, Goldfish Crackers in a box in the snack aisle and made for eating. 

Best Concert

We are in the time of year I call concert-geddon. For kids, it is a time to celebrate their wonderful improvements. For teachers, it is a time to celebrate accomplished goals. For mothers, it is a time to find clothes, locate shoes, iron, and shovel food into kid's bellies at odd times.

Drake had an orchestra concert last week, and I sat in my chair proud that he was wearing the proper clothing.

Then surprising things started happening. Kids carrying pictures of animals began parading back and forth in front of the orchestra. Confused, I consulted the program and saw the title of the song was Carnival of the Animals. I sat taller and realized the parade consisted of kids with special needs, and they each held a picture of a different animal. Then I vaguely remembered Drake mentioning that kids who had special needs had been attending the orchestra practices, and they were all working together to put on this concert.

There were a couple kids who were in wheelchairs; there was one girl who walked exceedingly slow, and there was a girl behind her who was upset by the slow pace and kept yelling at the slow girl. Mostly, though, there were smiles and laughs and proud parents.

As the concert ended, the parade of kids with animal pictures marched down the aisle near me and out the back of the room. Parents are emotional people, so we stood to our feet and clapped loudly. Most of the parade had exited, but one girl remained. From my place near the back, I saw her bubbling excitement in her enormous smile and fidgety hands. She tried, but she just couldn't contain her enthusiasm. She spun around and flung her arms open to receive the applause. Her response was too much for us. We had to cheer and whistle and clap harder. She beamed. We clapped. When it all began to die down, I was able to hear her quiet voice say, "Thank you so much everybody," before she turned around and joined her friends.

Best. Concert. Ever.

No Grandpa!

I've mentioned before that my grandparents are in that hazy stage of life where they forget things like taking their medications, what day it is, and what in the world is going on. My mom visits them in their retirement facility regularly to ensure the important factors of living are attended to, but when she can't visit she has to settle for calling them and checking up on their well-being.

"Mom," she bellowed into the phone, "tell Dad his bath aid will be there tomorrow to help him shave and pick out clean clothes."

After repeating that about six times at continually louder volumes, she hung up only to have the phone ring one minute later.

"Hello," she said.
"Chris," my grandpa said loud enough to be heard from across the room, "what is this I hear about someone coming tomorrow?"
"Yes, your bath aid is coming."
"And I'm supposed to go down to the front door with no clothes on?"
"NO!"
"So? How can you say, 'so' to that? No clothes? It seems wrong."
"I said NO! No, please don't do that!"

Poor bath aid.

Locationally Challenged

"Makenna, where have you been?" I asked my daughter as she walked into the kitchen rubbing her eyes. "I've been calling for you."
"I climbed out my bedroom window and fell asleep on the roof," she answered.
"Silly me. I didn't think to look for you there."
"It was really warm up there," she explained, as if that answered all my questions.
"Well, do you know where Emery is? It is almost time for supper."
"Yeah, she is sitting on top of the chicken coop reading a book."
"Well, I know that Josiah is at a band practice at school, but I'm almost afraid to ask if you know where Drake is."
"Drake is on the top of the living room chair."
"You mean is is sitting in the chair?"
"No, he's on the top of it - gymnastic like."

And he was.

Why can't anybody be in a reasonable location?

Special

Most of life is mundane: laundry, meetings, organizing, oil changes, etc. Every once in a rare while, something comes along that is special - a moment in time that rises above others and is unlikely to be forgotten.

When you combine that special moment with some special people, it is magical.

My church puts on an Easter Egg hunt for the kids in our city who have special needs. These children have a hard time participating in such activities for several reasons: they might have a visual impairment so they are unable to see the eggs, they might have a mobility impairment so they are unable to crawl around and find the eggs, they might have a disability that makes it challenging for them to be in loud crowds, or they might simply be unable to compete with children who are faster and more nimble.

We want these kids to participate in an Easter Egg hunt where those concerns are not limiting.

I cannot describe the feeling that overtakes your heart as you watch kids in wheel chairs use a magnetized wand to pick up eggs with a magnet inside. Everything inside of you changes a little bit when you watch kids who can't see crawl around and use their hearing to search and find eggs that are beeping. The pride on their faces for having completed the challenge all by themselves is more beautiful and touching than all the art hung on the walls of the Met.

An event like this takes a year of planning and hundreds of volunteers. I was humbled by the generosity of our church, our community, and those who gave up their time to participate. But what really brought tears rolling down my cheeks was watching the teenagers who volunteered selflessly and gladly served wherever they were needed. They stuffed eggs, served food, cleaned up, answered questions, laughed, but, most of all, they treated the egg hunters the same as they treated their other friends - normal.

It was special.

Grandpa Said?

Memory loss is a terrifying and frustrating thing. But, it can also be hilarious.

My mom got a phone call that went something like this:

"Chris, talk to your father. He doesn't recognize me." Then she waited while there was much muffling the phone and shouting about who should hold it.

"Hello?" Grandpa finally barked into the receiver.
"Hi Dad. What's the problem?"
"Who is this woman?"
"It's Mom."
"Is she here to give me a haircut or something?"
"No, it's Mom."
"Is she a nurse?"
"No, she's your wife!"
"Oh, that's a relief!" he sighed. "She was in my bed, but I guess it's all on the up and up."