eSpecially Ben

Sean made fun of Ben's hair one morning. He said it was sticking up and looking silly. I told him not to make fun of his brother. Minutes later, I walked past the bathroom and saw Sean spritzing Ben's hair with water and brushing it. The photo was hard to get, but I thought a visual may be needed.

When I was five years old, a neighbor friend and I decided to run away. I made it to the end of our driveway when our next door neighbor, known for his early morning hours spent manicuring his lawn, noticed me and asked what I was doing outside at 5am. I don't think I even responded, but I high-tailed it back to the house. I was grounded for a week. In the 38 years since then, I never thought about how my parents felt about my near run away. I don't remember what injustices lead my friend and me to think it was a good idea to leave the comfort of our homes and hit the road. I can't seem to remember a plan either. I do know that I wore my fancy blue shoes. Last week, I received a text from a neighborhood friend saying that I needed to call her immediately. She found Sean walking down the street from her house and picked him up. By the time I got the message, Sean was safely in school and all was fine. This story is pieced together mostly from what Sean shared with me and

Last Sunday, we were excited to watch the Carolina/San Francisco playoff game and went to more trouble than we usually do and invited a few people over. Not a huge party by any means, but we had caught the football fever and wanted to share it with others. A lot of good it did us, but that's for a sports blog writer to complain about. Our story only took place on this day and has nothing to do with football. Just as the game was about to start, Logan yelled for me. He was upset because he thought one of our African Dwarf Frogs  had lost a limb. Although I was truly the last person qualified to look at a missing limb, I did. Indeed, a bloody stump was where the left front leg should have been. I also noticed, to my horror, that the little frog was incredibly thin. Once I confirmed the injury, Logan spiraled into a crazed child, complete with unintelligible screaming, flailing and threats of fainting. Although, I was fairly calm, I was not doing so well myself. I love frogs and I

Gale, Ben's physical therapist, started working with him in the pool one year ago. Ben has always liked the water. He has received lessons or therapy for the past six years, with lots of recreational play in between. Ben's progress has been phenomenal over the past year - working with Gale, his physical therapist, combined with all the water work we did in the pool last summer made a difference. Endurance and confidence in the pool increased, and Ben's ability to move his body deliberately in the water is remarkable. Ben goes where he wants in the water, and if he decides he is going to chase a brother, watch out! Gale is jumping at the bit to get Ben in the swimming event for the Special Olympics, but she, I mean , Ben will have to wait. This sport does not start until middle school. I try to tell her it is just more time for Ben to improve his stroke, but she is ready now. Gale's excitement and enthusiasm definitely drives her to push Ben. However, she makes

When it rains, it pours at our house. In the midst of the scramble for a wheelchair (the sweet tale in my previous post does not portray the heartache of finding a chair for Ben), we developed yet another issue: On the Sunday after Christmas, it rained miserably. The roof over Ben's room (and Logan and Sean's) is a shed roof, meaning it has a very gradual, almost flat roof. We have known for about four years that replacement was imminent. About two years ago, we made a temporary fix. In my grand plan, when the accessible bathroom was built, this roof would be replaced. Over the past couple of months, I noticed bubbling on Ben's wall when it rained and in the weeks before Christmas, I saw damage on the ceiling from water. It did not look good. That same Sunday, the sun came out and it turned out to be a pretty day. I was thankful that the rain had not made the situation in Ben's room worse. Boy was I wrong. About 5 o'clock, I checked on Ben, and water was pouring

Once upon a time in a city not too far away, a family went to church on Christmas Eve. Just as they arrived, their red-headed son's Convaid Wheelchair broke. The metal cross bar under the chair cracked in half. The mother, in her panic, contacted the medical supply salesman, simultaneously praying for forgiveness for texting in church. Over the next week, different chairs were suggested and tried. One pink chair did not have transit ties for the bus, and the brothers of the boy cried, "Thank goodness!" A blue one so large, the red-headed boy's father fought him for it. Finally, after much searching, a blue one was found in just the right size. Although a loaner, it will work just fine. THE END.

Long time ago, I heard an old tale that what you do on New Year's Day, you will do all year long.  Based on that, Ben has a good year coming: Running with Logan down a timed track. Time with brothers at the park. Caught reaching for donuts by Sean, a blossoming photographer. Chilling watching Spud from Bob the Builder. Happy New Year - hope your day was a good one!