Flowers, and no underwear

"Ma ma, don't forget to ask Papa and Gar to bring flowers for me." I heard that statement many times in the weeks preceding Isabella's ballet performance. It seemed that the most important part of the whole event would be getting flowers. My parents were all set for the special, post-performance flower delivery--so I had nothing to worry about there. What I did worry about, was whether or not Isabella would actually make it to the performance. She'd been an unhappy ballerina for months, and at one point I considered throwing in the towel and calling it quits. At that point I had to consider her reasons for disliking ballet, which were as follows: 

-It makes her sweaty.

-She's just a kid who wants to play. 

-It's too much work.

Well, I get it. She definitely is "a kid who just wants to play", and I am happy to let her play as much as possible, which is most of the day--I think I've figured out that she plays 60% of the day, spends 30% of her day eating (yeah, she eats a lot), and spends 10% of her day completing school work and/or extra curricular activities. I'd say that creates a pretty fabulous day for a five year old (six in a couple weeks!). But I'm all for facing the reality of life as we know it, and what makes life interesting, is all the things that are hard work and quite possibly, make us sweaty in the process. 

I was a little emotional as we got out of the car and were gearing up to make our way into the building for the performance. Isaac was passed out in his car seat, so I took a moment, there in the parking lot to look Isabella in the eye and tell her how proud I was of her. I told her that the reason I was proud, wasn't because she knew the dance, or because she was going to look beautiful on stage (which she did, of course), but I was proud of her for sticking with it. Even though it was hard work, and she often didn't want to go to ballet class, she stuck with it, and made it to the special day where she could share her hard work with the rest of us. She beamed, and I live for those moments. 

We practiced and practiced and practiced. Here is Sarah, helping the girls remember their dance moves. 

Though Charlotte was not part of the performance, she found a leotard in Isabella's room and joined in the practice session.

Performance day really wore out Isaac:

Fixing hair and make-up. Last year, the fabulous mom that I am, I forgot all about make-up, and was reminded several times this year that she needed lip gloss.

I turned around and found Isaac using binoculars...

Apparently, the second most exciting part of this whole event, was that she was not supposed to wear underwear. Who knew how thrilling that would be for a five year old? "Oh mom! It just feels so good not to have underwear on!"

Like I said, Isaac was passed out. From car seat, to what I call our homeless cart, this time it just so happens to have a trash bag slung across the top. This is a pretty accurate picture of what it looks like when we go to doctor's appointments: feeding bag, Isabella's book bag, and my purse/camera bag, and a bunch of crap stuffed in the far too small mesh part at the bottom.

I think the following pictures speak for themselves:

Lastly, my very best friend--not sure what I would do without her.

After the performance, Isabella looked up and said, "Do I get to take ballet next year?!" Much to my surprise, she was very happy when I said, "Yes, of course you will." She also told me that Papa, Gar, and Josh did a very good job picking out flowers, and as far as I know, she has been wearing underwear every day since then.

A little ballerina

First of all, do you like the new layout of my blog? Did you even notice? Don't lie, it's okay if you didn't. Well, now that you know, make yourself at home, explore a little, become a MEMBER. What? Did I say that? It's okay if you don't want to, I understand, but it would make me oh so happy if you did. Either way, I'm excited about the new layout, so let me know what you think (even if you don't like it)!

*********************************************************************************

If Isabella had it her way, she would be involved in ten different extracurricular activities. But since parents are the bad guys (we are so good at playing the part, aren't we?), she had to pick one. I'm not going to lie, I'm glad she picked ballet. She's good at it, and it's a good activity that I'd really like her to stick with. She also has a great teacher (same one as last year) who keeps the silliness in check. She can be silly at home for free, right? I promise I'm not a crazy dance mom.

She enjoyed the three week soccer program she and Maya participated in over the summer, so next year, the plan is soccer and ballet. 

You'll have to forgive my pictures. We're allowed to watch the class once a month, and only from the other side of a sliding glass door, so I was competing with fingerprints on the glass and glare from the open door across the room. 

In case you're wondering why she is concerned about her shoe, they each have stickers at certain spots on their ballet shoes as a reminder where to position their feet.

If you're an adult and enjoy ballet, or would like to include some ballet technique into your exercise program, I definitely recommend these DVDs. I really enjoy them, and it's a good way to do some strength training without just standing around lifting weights. She likes different push up variations, so get ready to stay in a plank for half of the upper body work out--now you can't say I didn't warn you. The last time Isaac was with me when I was doing one of her DVDs, he got mad and pointed to the mat any time I took a break. He's hard core, no breaks allowed.

Summer

I am a very slow blogger lately. I have self-diagnosed myself with tendinitis in my right arm. Dr. Google is always so helpful. So, I tend to stay off the computer otherwise my arm is useless for the next couple hours. Just for you, I'll suffer through the pain and give you a family update...just kidding, it's not like I'm dying.

Sarah and I are really enjoying our ballet class. No, we do not wear leotards. I'm pretty sure once we can actually balance on one foot they'll include us in a performance or two.

Isabella and I survived our first week of homeschooling. We've only started math. I think she needs a little review, or catch up, or whatever you want to call it, I'm fairly certain she inherited my anti-math gene. That's a major bummer, and I feel bad for her. But we'll work to reverse that tear and embarrassment inducing gene. I know a lot of people think I'm crazy for keeping her at home for Kindergarten but, I'm sorry, I'm not going to send her to school for an entire day of Kindergarten that can be completed in two to three hours. Also, spending a whole day alone with Isaac isn't all that appealing. No offense to him, but he is much happier with his sister around to follow and play with. We are using the Kindergarten Memoria Press Curriculum, you can check it out here. It's super easy because they already have all of the lesson plans written out, with corresponding page numbers to the books and worksheets.

If you want to check out what I do every Saturday, go here to see the latest pictures from weddings I've second shot with Andrew. The first picture from Lauren and Matt's post, is one that I took! On wedding days, Walter and the kids have managed pretty well without me. They go to the zoo, play outside, eat ice cream, and watch the Woodpecker show.

Here's Mr. Grumps, as we've affectionately called him after a few really grumpy weeks. Walter jokes that Isaac is unhappy if it is over 72 degrees outside. It's going to be a long summer. After a string of terrible nights, Isaac spent two nights at my parent's house and apparently took that as his opportunity to catch up on sleep. Grrr.

The two things that generally cure a bad mood are playing catch, and reading. If I would sit on the floor and throw a ball back and forth to him all day, he'd be one happy guy.

"Mommy, today is probably a very good day for me to have a lemonade stand."
"Well, let's pick a day when it's not quite so hot."
"But you're supposed to have a lemonade stand when it's hot."
"I know, but that means that we all have to sit outside, and you know your brother won't be happy about that! And, we don't have all of the ingredients to make lemonade."
"Mommy! You don't need ingredients! You just buy it in the box at the store and then pour it in cups! Papa and Gar have that kind and it is sooo delicious."

Thus far, I think our summer has gone pretty well. We've spent a lot of times with friends, and had friends over quite a bit. A trip to the local pool didn't go very well. Isaac was certain we were torturing him and for about forty-five minutes he sat just outside of the zero entry, hunched over, still as a statue, and pulled his hair. Isabella had fun though. We don't have much of garden this year, and due to my lack of care for watering my daisies, they are dead. Walter suggested that I could water them, but really, I just don't care. And we agreed, by the time we pull out the hose and turn the water on, Isaac is falling apart, so what's the point? Isabella goes to camp every Wednesday morning, and seems to have fun, but camp is top secret so I don't hear much about it. Isaac has a list of appointments for July so we're gearing up for that, including a consult with a new ENT who is said to have techniques to diagnose swallow issues that don't include actually swallowing food. Isaac will now stand and walk (backward) with a push toy, he learns new signs each week, and I've been making a concerted effort to have him practice moving his mouth in different ways to make different noises. He's gotten very good at blowing and sometimes puts his lips together whereas his mouth usually hangs open. Isabella can now identify a trapezoid, rhombus, parallelogram, and hexagon. She talks non stop and lately I've overheard her telling Isaac that if he doesn't stop crying, he's going to his room. I've had to remind her that she is not the mommy.

Happy Fourth of July!

Sierra

a good day

Today is a good day. You're probably glad to hear it since my last couple posts have been downers. I prefer to call it, reality. If you want to read about unicorns instead, go here.

Anyway, Isaac had a great physical therapy appointment, Isabella had her first day of camp, Isaac had a successful early intervention appointment, and in an hour we'll head to ballet. All in all, a good day.

Yesterday, Isabella and I had to review, Rules for when mommy is getting Isaac to sleep. They are as follows, and trust me, very hard to abide to:

1. Do not ask for ANYTHING unless you are BLEEDING or on FIRE.
2. Do not TALK.
3. Do no SHOUT.
4. Do not BANG THINGS.
5. Pick a room and STAY in it.
6. No CRYING.

Easy enough, right? Nope.

Last night, Sarah and I began our eight week adult ballet class. Isabella and I went to the dance store to get my ballet shoes and she promptly informed the lady that I did not need pointe shoes and I would not be on stage. She's probably right.

On Sunday, Isabella will turn five.

She paints her own nails...

She puts on her own cooking show for us...

She can finally pump her legs...

 She pushes her brother on the swing without harming him...

And last but not least, my little man...

a long time coming

Yes, it's been a long time since my last post. Isaac is in a very fun, I love my mommy so much I must touch her at all times phase. This makes it challenging to get anything done. Today I hid in the kitchen and ate my dinner. Isaac was having a happy moment, so I had to take advantage of it.

A couple major developments, before I forget:

-Thursday, May 31, Isaac took two unassisted steps!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-While playing a pattern game with bugs (kind of like teddy bear counters), I asked Isaac to match the appropriate bug to the color block on the card, and he put all five bugs with the corresponding color!

I've been able to tell for a while that Isaac understands "color", but he can't verbalize it, so the bug thing was pretty exciting.

My grandma stayed with us for a few days, and I'm not kidding, I was probably the happiest person on the block for those few days. I love watching my kids with my grandparents. Josh graduated from high school last week, so we had the special treat of both grandmas visiting for a couple days. The kids had a blast, and like I said, I was so happy.

A couple conversations with my grandma:

-Sierra, your hair looks so beautiful.
-Really? I just woke up, grandma. But I'm glad it looks good.
-Yes, it just looks so beautiful, but I could be wearing rose colored glasses, so you never know.
-That's probably more like it.

-What on earth is wrong with Isaac? Why is he so upset?
-I walked away to get something.
-Well, he certainly has you wrapped around his little finger!

-What is Isabella talking about? Did you really work out last night after I went to bed.
-Yeah.
-You mean Isaac doesn't give you enough exercise.

-Grandma, here's a towel and washcloth for you.
-I don't need those. I brought my own.
-You brought your own towel? Why would you do that?
-Well, I don't know, I just have my own.
-That's weird. I promise, we have plenty to go around, so if you need them, they're here.

***************************************************************************

The library has these things called Playaways (basically like a book on tape), and both kids love them. Isaac will even sit and listen for five to ten minutes.

Ballet rehearsal...

The big night. They were wonderful, and beautiful, and I cried.

By this point, Isaac was very angry. He has very little appreciation for ballet. Thanks to Sarah and Michael's iPod, he made it through Isabella's performance and then played in the hall with daddy.

Memorial Day

Tired

"Sierra, come look at your son." Sometimes, you just need to sleep with your pants on your head.

Walter is building a fort/swing set for the kids. Isabella has had a great time "helping".

Walter put us to work staining wood. Originally, grandma was sitting in a chair watching me, pointing out every single spot I missed, then she joined in, and I pointed out every spot she missed.

Singing and clapping with grandma...

At my brother's graduation, a young lady with special needs, walked across the stage and graduated. After the ceremony, when were hunting down my brother in a mass of thousands of people (not kidding, 426 graduates, plus family and friends), I told Walter I had to go to the bathroom, which I really did, but I actually wanted to find that family. I found them, and told this young lady's sister, what an inspiration her sister was to me. I imagined Isabella, well into adulthood, watching Isaac graduate. I told her about Isaac, and that we have no idea if he will be able to graduate, or what his ability will be in the future, but how amazing it was to see that it can be done. It can be done. I don't know if we'll get there, but if we do, there will be one giant celebration.

Isaac isn't like other two year old kids. This becomes more apparent to us by the day. It makes me want to hide in my house so that I'm not tempted to compare. The comparison hurts, a lot. In my angry moments, which usually happen at the grocery store, where another kid is sitting in a cart, and the mom says, "yeah, look at that baby!" I want to yell at her. Because guess what, in all of those situations, Isaac is the older one. Last week I left the grocery store, after a similar scenario, and decided I should have a shirt made for Isaac that reads,

I'm two years old. 

I have delays

But I'M NOT A BABY! 

He's not a baby. Get it. Got it. Good. 

He holds a pen like a two year old. He can sit still and have one book after another read to him. He can point to almost any object in a book. He understands games like hide and seek. When playing catch, he will look at me, and then look away, and purposefully throw the ball away from me and burst out laughing because I have to go get it. Walter was chasing him around the living room, and Isaac would stop and point at the ceiling for a minute, I asked Walter why he was doing that, and he said he was trying to divert his attention, so that he could scoot away really fast. A baby doesn't do that. He knows and understands more signs that most two year old kids. 

I could tell you all of the things he doesn't do. All of the things that make me sad. But I won't do that, because I'm not sure there's a point. 

Anyway, that's my rant. I could go on, but you probably don't want me to. 

Lastly, my conversation with Isabella while in the car today:

-Mommy! Did you see that dog? It was really close to the road.
-No, I didn't see it.
-Did you know, there is such a thing as an Invisible Fence? Really, there is.
-I believe you. That's what Gar and Papa have in their yard for Molli.
-What kind of dog is Stella?
-She's a mutt. That means her mommy and daddy were two different kinds of dogs. Both of Molli's parents were English Cocker Spaniels, so she's an English Cocker Spaniel too.
-Well, what kind of dog was Stella's parents?
-I'm not sure because we adopted her from the Animal Proctection League.
-Wait, you mean that you and daddy were hunters?!
-Um, no. I mean that some nice people rescued Stella from the side of the road and took her to a safe place, and then we got her.
-Oh. What happened to her mommy and daddy?
-I'm not sure.
-They were probably already dead.

And there you have it.