When Someone You Love Makes a Stupid Mistake

You know, we all make mistakes. Maybe we react too quickly to something said, buy something they really could have done without, or perhaps judge someone too negatively. So, what can you do when someone paints themselves into a corner?
First, as they slide into the mistake, and you see it about to happen, you can encourage them to take their time. You can mention things they might want to consider, while letting them make their decision. It IS their decision.
Then, when they discover the truth, and they have to look in the mirror and say “Hey, that was a mistake”. That is bad enough. Don’t make it harder by being the one to say “I told you so”. Let them save face; it will then be easier for them to choose to correct the problem.

The Raw Deal

I think, eventually in life, we all get plastered with something we feel is a “raw deal”.

Some feel this way when they have a special needs child. When I gave birth to Ricky, I did feel shock, and questioned how I would deal with it, but didn’t feel it a “raw” deal, just an unexpected one. After all, I hadn’t done anything to “protect” myself from a special-needs child (other than prayer), and I knew that the possibility existed.
So what leads one to feel that they have a “raw” deal? It’s when you do everything right. When you lead a normal, productive, caring life, treating people properly, and nevertheless you get a “test” that is thrown at you “from the other side of the ballpark”. This is so unexpected, so implausible that you feel like you have been thrown into the deep end of the swimming pool, completely by chance, and totally unprepared.
Of course, the question is, what do you do with this “deal” once you have it? Do you wallow in self pity, or get on with your life? Do you swim or sink and drown?


I think a lot of the problem is when we brow-beat ourselves for getting into this mess… whether we did contribute to the problem, or not. Now I think that we have to do a reality check. We have to evaluate if we have made mistakes, correct them,…. and go on. We also have to say at times: I am not the one who is in control here. Being a good person is no guarantee of an easy life. It’s scary to admit it, but we cannot always protect ourselves from catastrophe. We delude ourselves that we can, but we can’t. That’s scary.

But the main thing is to get on with our lives. And not to forget to cherish those we love… including ourselves.

Our Trip to the Galilee (or Inclusion Vindicated) part two

Near the second river we waded along, we reached the Kinneret (sea of Galilee). On seeing it, and being told that THIS is the Kinneret, Ricki nodded in recognition (the Kinneret being one of those few landmarks on the map that Ricki was expected to be able to label). She gazed and added with wonder: “Gosh, its BIG!” She hurried to point it out and “share” her discovery with her classmates. We quickly reached Tiberius. There I took some pictures of Ricki along the shore.
The nicest part of the trip was the boat ride we took for an hour on the sea. It was a big boat, and the girls sang and danced. And Ricki was a part of the crowd, amongst everyone, included in the entire goings on.
As I watched, a happy bystander (I wanted Ricki to be with her friends WITHOUT me tagging along). my mind flashed back several years. At that time Ricki had been in first grade, at a different school. At the end of the school year, we received a disk with short videos of different highlights of the school year. I was horrified when I noticed that in all of the shots taken during the class trip, and even most of the in-class shots, Ricki was with her aide… and ONLY the aide. She was separate from the other girls, and “included” only in the fact that she sat in the same classroom. Yes, the girls would wave to her on the street, but never, in all of her three years there, did a classmate phone her. This school (which at the time was the ONLY school willing to accept her) was the school whose principal repeatedly told me that I was crazy to “include” Ricki. Eventually, I could see that they were not willing to learn to do things differently, and indeed I would be “crazy” to leave her there. I managed to transfer her after third grade to this different school. Here the studies are harder (this school jumped her up to her age level; in the previous one she had been two years behind her age group), but the girls accepted her… truly accepted her. In this school trip she was no leper.

I wish the principal of the first school could have seen her on that trip.

Our Trip to the Galilee (or Inclusion Vindicated) part one

Our trip to the north was lovely, especially for Ricki. The only bad part was the constant refrain of “Oh Gee, Rickismom, you’re amazing” from the teachers. I guess that they never expected someone of my proportions to go wading down streams (because most of them DIDN’T).
My first big pleasure from the trip was that when I pulled out a map of northern Israel to show Ricki where we were, she not only didn’t protest, she was interested. She is studying northern Israel right now in school, and I was sure that showing her on the map at points along the way would make the map more “alive” during geography studies. And then she even ASKED me for the map a various times throughout the trip.
The first stop was at “Nachal Kibutzim”, a small river one can go wading in. The bottom was straight, and the water was waist high. Since Ricki can float, and was with friends, I felt OK with her going in without me, especially as I would have her in constant eyesight. I was going to try and not go in the water, simply to avoid the hassle of finding a modest place to change later (bus drivers being known for not allowing soaking wet persons aboard). However, there was a busload of 7th graders from a different school making the same trip as we were. On entering the water, Ricki GRABBED the arm of the girl next to her, who happened to be from the second school. She was nice, and didn’t protest. HOWEVER, she had never seen Ricki in her life, and really looked as if she didn’t know what had hit her. (ie. She stood there, frozen in place.) So I went in, unlatched Ricki from the 7th grader, and got Ricki to loosen up. She quickly joined a bunch of classmates. I exited the water (hoping to dry out before reboarding). Then Ricki’s classmates really took over, even taking her on a “slide” to a lower pool.
The second stop was even more exciting. It was another river one walks along, but here the riverbed was full of irregular, slippery stones. When Ricki and I were in Colorado last year, we hiked along many mountain trails with stones like these. Ricki did not appreciate them (to put it mildly), but she did learn to navigate fairly well between the rocks. However, there we could see the stones; here we couldn’t. I will be honest and say that I did not enjoy this part of the trip, and was afraid that I would twist my ankle. By midway Ricki was only half coping, after some muddy water had splashed into her eyes, and had a runny nose as well. Then I slipped and fell. Nothing happened (except to my pride as a “hiker”), but Ricki became truly hysterical. So we exited a bit early. But within 5 minutes, Ricki’s friends had coaxed her back into the water, and they continued with her until the end of the water trail. (I had again opted out, deciding that I had had enough of stones I can’t see.)

Not AWOL

No, this blog is not AWOL. I just had my normal Saturday break, and Sunday I was on a trip with Ricki;s class untill 11pm (arrived home at 10:45) I decided going to sleep was more important than the blog(especially since I could barely drag myself in through the door…) and today I have been catching up on a full day of missed housework. Hopefully I will get in a normal post this evening, as well as sometime soon a blog about the trip. Have a nice day!

Getting Fed Up

The real reason I posted the “courage” statement this last week had nothing to do with Down syndrome. It has much more to do with a person in my life who has been extremely critical lately. They have been ill, and I am hoping that as they get better, the verbal abuse will go down.
Last night I inadvertently interrupted their listening to the hourly news update, and I was roundly told off. So I apologized. So then I got told off for “apologizing all the time”. (What else am I to do when they get angry at every little thing?) I held my tongue, but I felt like saying:
-Sorry I am breathing.
-Sorry I am living.

Now I do not REALLY feel this way in general (I LOVE living). I guess that the person being discussed does not realize how negative they sound, nor its effect on others. But I, personally, am getting fed up with it.

Then I read Dave Hingsburger’s blog ( http://www.davehingsburger.blogspot.com/ ) (an interesting blog on disabilities, but, again, I do not identify with all of his positions) yesterday on verbal abuse. I quote:

The woman in front loses patience with her daughter, "You need to shut up now, it's times like these that I can't believe I gave birth to you. There's a decision I'd like to take back sometimes." Shock trailed through the line up. Then the boy got a withering attack, "you were useless as a child and it looks like your going to be useless as a man.'
I looked at the woman's face, expecting to see hate there. I didn't. I saw something worse. Pleasure. She was taking pleasure in what she was saying. I looked back down the line. Everyone had the look that I was sure was on my face, "I want to say something but I'm afraid I'll make it worse, later, for the kids."

(Rickismom again)
(PS if you have a kid with DS, look up the original blog. There is an added story there…)

I know how I feel after one week (two?) of constant mild criticism. How could the children weather life if they have such a parent? The answer: they probably don’t.
And my reaction?
It is so easy to see the wrong in such a blatant verbal attack. Yet I suspect that any of us who are parents (excluding any angels who read here), should use this as a wakeup call. Are we guilty of a 5% attack? 3%? Lets each try to be a bit more positive and less critical today.... Have a nice day (and good “Shabbas” ie, Saturday)!

The Math Booklet

Today I received in the mail a book with math projects that I had ordered. The sample I had seen online looked quite good, and the topics covered were largely what we need to work on with Ricki. Nevertheless, I rarely buy unseen stuff unless I am familiar with the author, have heard good things, or trust the publisher (like Woodbine House). I was hoping I hadn’t bought something I couldn’t use, especially as it is in English, and Ricki works in Hebrew. When I saw the postage my brother had paid (which I must repay), and mentally calculated the sum cost of the book, I gulped. “Well, it BETTER be good! “
Thank G-d, it was fine. The text parts are set out in a way that I can easily scan and translate them. And the ideas are as imaginative and fun as I had hoped.
So now, in my VAST amount of spare time (LOL) I have to scan and translate half of the workbook. So all of you British, American, and and Australians parents and teachers with special-needs students should just be HAPPY and grateful at the vast amount of ready-to-use materials you have available to use and purchase. And you can add to that thanks some gratitude for the books you can borrow to show your child’s teachers. Here they don’t have these same materials in Hebrew, and educators have looked at me like I am crazy when I was simply quoting accepted educational journals (like those of Down’s Ed of England).

PS

By the way, I forgot to add yesterday that after NOT getting candy from the vending machine at the hospital…
(“Do you really think I’m going to buy you candy after you disobeyed me and drug your purse on the floor???!!??”)….
… Well, she was WONDERFULL for the rest of the day.
Limits DO work………

The “Every Day” aspect

Courage does not always roar. Sometimes it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying…."I will try again tomorrow". – Mary Anne Radmacher

Today I was with Ricki at the hospital for a routine check-up at one of the outpatient clinics. In the middle of our brief visit, Ricki decided to leave the doctor’s office and go out to gaze at the TV. So the doctor asked me, perhaps because for once Ricki wasn’t in the room, “And how is she doing otherwise?”
[He asked either because Ricki wasn’t in the room (nice of him not to ask in front of her), or perhaps he saw my FRAZELED face as we walked into the clinic. Ricki had pulled her purse along the pavement frequently on the way to the hospital, pretending it was a suitcase on wheels. And she continued to do so even after being given a warning and a punishment. Absolute rebellion…..And at arrival to the clinic she started clamoring for sweets from the vending machine….]
I answered that academically she was doing OK, but that her personality was and is her big disability, not the intellectual disability. So he said a few nice sentences about how most people have no idea what raising a special child is like, and the fact that it is an ongoing each-and-every-day affair is what makes it difficult. I laughed, and said that when I go to see new parents, I tell them that its not as bad as people think, but that if someone says it isn’t hard, they are trying to give you a “sell”. “It’s not called a “test” for nothing….”

Yes, courage is continuing to do behavior modification even when you would swear it isn’t helping that much.
Courage is finding that deep-seated belief you have in your child, even when others can’t see it.
Courage is toilet training a young special-needs child for three years, day after day, if that is what it takes. (It took me a long time with Ricki; other parents manage to finish much more quickly.....)

Courage is ____________ (fill in the blank). We all have “tests”, whether it is a special needs child, a financial problem, or keeping peace in a marriage or family. We have to hold on, not give up too easily….. and try again tomorrow.

The Disabling Disability

Yesterday afternoon I took Ricki to a dance/theater performance, as she loves to dance and act. And, indeed, much of what we saw done by the groups of girls performing was well within Ricki’s capabilities. However, I could never resister her for such a club with regular girls.
Firstly, I could never find a for-profit group interested in risking losing their clientele due to her.
Secondly, Ricki is truly very aggressive and on the look-out for arguments. (So much for the myth of “downies” being “easy-going, loveable…”.) THIS is her true disability, and the one which effectively excludes her. [Note that her agression is probably more due to her ADHD and not Down syndrome, and that with behavior modification is getting better.]

Sanctioned (by me) Truancy

I let Ricki skip school this morning. I had thought, mistakenly, that today was a “no school” day. But when my husband called me up and said he saw girls on the way to classes, I gulped. School starts at 8 am, and it was 10 to eight. Ricki was fast asleep in bed. So I called Ricki’s aide and we did a quick calculation. She said that school today was only from 8 o’clock to noon. The four hours of studies schueduled for Ricki were:
Bible (in class)
Ethics and Jewish thought (Yehadut) (in class)
Math (privately)
Preparation for geography (privately)

- Well, until Ricki would get up and get to school, she would miss Bible.

- Ethics would be entirely over her head, since I had not prepared her. (Ethics is one of the few classes I prepare her for at home. But I have to nudge the teacher to get the material, and I didn’t, not knowing that there would be classes…..)

-Preparation for geography would not be needed, there being no geography class following it, due to the short day.

-Math I can do with Ricki just as well, at home.

So I gave the aide a (paid) day off, and Ricki and I are enjoying the quiet morning. Soon I plan to do a bit of math with her, and study for a science test she has tomorrow. So way in the world do I feel so guilty!?????????? Oh, the problems of a perfectionist!

PS on Politics

Doesn't the behavior of the candidates, the accusations, lies, ect., just make you sick that these people are supposed to be our LEADERS?!?!?!!!

Shavous Stollers

This morning, it being a holiday, I had the chance to do something I don’t do very often. I sat in the armchair by our living room window, and watched the “world go by”. It was a shavuos holiday morning, which meant that there were no cars on the street. Instead, groups of people were returning from their morning prayers. Many had been up all night in the traditional celebration of the giving of the Torah. And I would like you to “see” a few of them with me.
First I noticed two teens walking along, slowly. They were obviously tired. Although tall, thin, and smiling, one was a bit bent over from his tiredness. His friend reached out, and draped his arm over his comrade’s shoulder. They walked on, comfortably chatting.
I saw a father with two sons. One was at least 13, the other I would gauge at about eight. The father was talking, all the time gesturing with his hand, his older son listening. The younger one was whopping it up, racing circles around the other two, letting off steam after sitting in synagogue for a few hours.
Next I noticed a group of about eight or nine friends, returning from prayers after a night spent studying G-d’s law. They had the animated movements of enthusiastic youth. One of these boys had a limp. His gait was rather jerky, one leg sticking out at a crooked angle. But he was part of the group.
The fourth “group” to catch my eye was an older couple. The man was tall and thin, with a bit of a spring in his step. His grey beard was flecked with a bit of silvery white, and it was long enough to catch the breeze a bit. His wife was of medium build, a bit short, and walked slowly. Her stance was a bit stooped and bent. When they reached the curb, her husband paused to turn and face her, giving her his hand to hold as she stepped down. I could only wonder if they were going to their own home, to a quiet meal, or were they on the way to a married child’s house, to share the meal with a bustling grown of grandchildren?
And the last to catch my eye (before I returned to the kitchen and my cooking), was a middle-aged man. He was slightly overweight, with sandy brown hair, and of medium height. But what drew my attention to him, was his walk. With a talis draped over his shoulders, he strode along the middle of the road, erect and leisurely, regally. I wondered why he was alone.

Instructions

I bought for Ricky about a year ago some paper dolls, hoping that this activity could be both fun and strengthen her cutting skills as well. Well, she make a complete disaster of the project. Recently I bought a new set, and this morning she took it out. After she had cut out one dress without the fold-over tabs, I caught her trying to glue the dress to the doll. After about five minutes of talking to her, and cutting out an outfit correctly to show her, it suddenly registered in her mind… to listen. I showed her how to do it (reminding her that one ALWAYS has to get instructions before starting things…). And she listened. GRIN.

As Easy as a Tuna Fish Sandwich

Last week I read a lovely story in "A Touch of Warmth". A childless couple was to visit an infertility advisor worker for lunch, as he was to explain to them the ins and outs of the newest procedure they were about to undergo. The worker asked: "What do you want me to order you for lunch?"
The man, feeling rather exasperated with years of treatment, replied "I don't want a tuna fish sandwich. I want a baby."
Without skipping a beat, the volunteer said:"You know, G-d can give you a baby as easy as He can give you a tuna fish sandwich."

Now, I don't expect a cure for Down syndrome tomorrow. But there are so many areas of our lives where we need help and solutions, whether it is with finding a good program for our child, getting insurance, finding time for siblings, etc. Etc. I don't know what we will be worthy to receive. But we have to believe, really believe, that it is in HIS power to do so.

The Cheshire Cat Grin

I just want to relate two small incidents with Ricki. Yesterday her older brother told me that on Saturday he had played cards with Ricki, and she won “fair and square”.

Today, I wrote a short text in Hebrew for Ricki to read. Hebrew is her native language, and a second tongue to me. But in general, my level is above hers, as I learn along with her, and yet retain more. But today as we were reading, she pointed to the word "pitom" (suddenly), asked “What is THIS?” I answered 'pitom'”. She replied, “It can’t be; it doesn’t have an ‘aleph’” (a silent letter). So I looked the word up, and sure enough, it has an “aleph”. I corrected it with a song in my heart. No only was she better than me at spelling that word, she asked about an unfamiliar word, and had the “gumption” to correct me.

Picture me with the grin of the Cheshire cat……

Experiencing It…(or) The Joy of Sleep

I had noticed that my son was spending way too much time on the computer. The problem is, his yeshiva also did…….he was obviously sleepy in class. So I have embargoed computer for him for a while. Then I decided that fair is fair, and that I am also spending way too much time on the computer on non-critical things. And, even worse, it is taking time away from more important pursuits…. Including a decent night’s sleep.
So yesterday and today I spent much less time on the machine. The result? Enough sleep. I felt entirely different. Suddenly, keeping my diet was not a lost battle. I had time for many activities. And did I miss the interesting news videos? Not really.
I had read often lately how sleep deprivation causes people to gain weight. I understood that sleeping would help me feel better. Today I experienced it.

PURPLE HAIR

As Ricki and I exited the bus, on the way to Ricki’s drama/dance class, I saw her ahead. Under the glaring harsh Mediterranean sun, this lady walked along, in a bright purple dress, and bright purple hair to match. She was definitely rather middle-aged, not a teenager who one might expect such psychedelic colors on. This is a business area, and she was undoubtedly going home from work.
This made me wonder a lot of things. First, did she dye her hair daily to match her wardrobe, or did she only wear purple? Was she an unmarried 35 year old desperately attempting to attract attention? Was she just trying to say “I have my own mind, I am an individual?” Or perhaps the opposite? Maybe that is the new “craze” and she wants to fit in???
In the end, I decided that it was her life/ problem/ craziness.
But I congratulate her that the hair color/ dress were a perfectly toned match…….

I Wish I Had a Magic Wand

I wish I had a magic wand for many things -a cure for illnesses, end of terror, etc. But if not for these big things, I would like a magic wand at least for these:
1) The mother whose child (with Down S) has an IQ of 69 and is refused an aid, because she’s “normal”.
2) The mother whose child with DS is included in a school. The school definitely needs instruction, but haughtily think they don’t. SIGH . Educators rank only under doctors in terms of haughtiness……(I know, that’s a generalization….)
3) The mother whose child desperately needs behavior intervention, but she can’t afford it.
4) The mother who wants to place her child (with DS, what else?) in a local school in a small town, and they are against accepting the child, just because they have no idea of the possibilities.

??!!??????!!!

In the news:
“The Seven Network's All Saints program has sparked controversy after implying that Down Syndrome is brought on by incestual relationships.”

??!!??????!!!
??!!??????!!!

I think that if anyone considers these people as “normal”, we will have to revaluate what constitutes “retardation” and “disability”. Give me a kid with Down syndrome over this uneducated populace ANY day!

The Lie (make it plural)

I discovered with a certainty last night that someone I care about was lying to me. I had already guessed it, and was 99% sure that they were trying to play me the fool. I had chosen to not confront them, several times, for two reasons:
1) If they would choose to change to a better way of behavior, it would be easier to do so if they felt they had a good reputation to live up to. Aaron the Cohen (priest) was noted for treating people as if they were better than they were, and this impacted positively on them.
2) We are instructed by our sages to give others the benefit of the doubt, especially in cases were it will not hurt us to do so. So I decided to leave a 1% possibility in my mind that maybe this person was actually acting in the way they had claimed to be.

This is not the first time this has happened to me. Several years ago a relative with an alcohol addiction problem lied to me, and I believed them until the evidence was overwhelming. I am an honest person. I am as “straight” as a finely precisioned ruler. Years ago when I was “hippyish”, the poster/incense store owner called me ‘Abe Lincoln” for returning a few pennies I owed him. Thus it is hard for me to acknowledge that someone in the family would have the gumption to tell me an untruth, and painful as well. It is not as if I would have been angry at them. Two of my children have more than left the fold of Orthodoxy, and they told me the truth. I respected that. One even told me, when I asked a question he didn’t want to answer, “Mom, Don’t ask. You don’t want to hear a lie.” This son has at least learned to be honest.
Does this person feel that they were protecting themselves? That they were shielding me? In my mind, besides making me into a laughing stock, all they have managed to do is to destroy the possibility that I will ever believe them again about anything. Enough is enough. If you call “wolf” too often, you won’t be believed.

The Sins of Our Youth

In the US news there is a story about an autistic child, mainstreamed, who was voted out of his classroom by his first-grade classmates. Apparently they were definitely egged on by their teacher. I find it amazing that two children in the class voted to keep the kid in the class, considering that the teacher was basically giving them the message to "vote him out"!

But I want to touch on another point.
Dave Hingsburger, a person active in the disability community, writes in his bog:
"The kid who was shunned by 14 of his classmates when put to trial by a teacher trained under supervision of Adolph. Everyone waxed poetic about the behavior of this teacher - the damage to the self esteem of that kid - the failure of mainstream education. And they should. These are all huge issues. Issues I'd like to write about. But can't.

Because I don't know if I would have been one of the 14 or one of the 2 who voted for him. God knows I experienced bullying at school, shunned for a thousand reasons by my classmates, made to feel isolated and alone. I can IDENTIFY with the kid. That should guarantee that I would have stood with him, by him, for him. But it doesn't and I know it doesn't."

I think that many persons, when they suddenly enter the "disability world" (by having a special needs child or some other contact with disability), feel guilty about how they treated the disabled in the past. And we all have memories of things we did when we were kids/in high school, that we REALLY would like to do over again, handling it in a more mature way. (I still feel guilty for a nasty remark I made to a kid I disliked in high school.) (Gee, I just thought-- maybe I can look him up in the class listing on internet and apologize. Not a bad idea....)
But I think that as kids, most of our reactions to the disabled will have been due to the input we received from our parents, and to a lesser degree, our teachers.

I was lucky that my parents raised us not to be scared of people with disabilities. I remember that when I was very young, we had no TV at home, and my parents wanted to let us watch "The Nutcracker Suite" at their acquaintances' house. This family had a child with Down syndrome, and my mom mentioned the fact before we went to watch the program. She did not want me to have a negative reaction to the child. (In the end we never met this boy. I don't know if this is because the child was being hidden from us, his parents perhaps being scared of our reaction, or if he happened to be asleep.) I have also mentioned previously (December 3rd) how my parents reacted to my friendship with a mentally impaired neighbor. But even I can not say with complete certainty that as a KINDERGARDEN kid I would have bucked the teacher's encouragement to prejudice.
So I will say that the biggest crime that this teacher did was not to the autistic boy, but to the remaining classmates, in that she taught them to HATE.

The Fun of Family

You know, having married children and THEIR kids over is fun. OK, it’s also a lot of work. (I decided I will clean up the living room in the morning). But the work is well outweighed by the fun:
The laughter over a shared “family” joke (which needs to be explained to the wives), the sharing of an inspiring story, the swapping of useful ideas. (My daughter in law tells me that dish washing liquid is a good anti-ant repellant.)
Its nice to see them interacting so well with their children. One of my favorite views from the weekend, was to notice that often a baby would be held by his aunt or uncle, if their own parents were busy with something else. They all pitched in to make the day as happy and nice as could be for everyone.
This is really priceless—a large family where all are attuned to the others’ needs, and are willing to “pitch-hit” for their siblings. I think we all had a good time.

A Digital Picture Frame

In general, I am against bragging about anything gashmius (physical) in this blog. After all, if someone reading this CAN’T afford the same item, it is not very kindly on my part to brag about it. But just this once, I will. If you would want such a frame, but can’t afford it, please forgive me.
A few weeks ago, at about the same time that my son was to return from the US, I discovered that there is something in this world called a digital picture frame. I was immediately taken by the idea, and asked him to pick one up for me. He refused, saying that it was a terrible waste of money, and was definitely not worth buying. Another child, who had seen such a frame by an acquaintance, echoed the same thoughts. So I asked my husband to bring one on his return from an overseas trip. We contented ourselves with a simple version, a less-expensive option. (The resolution is a bit weak, but OK.)
So now I have it set up in the hall. It has lovely pictures from Colorado (like the one at the top of this page), and pictures of the children/grandchildren. I was careful not to include any pictures that ANY of my very religious sons might protest.
And I love it. I suppose I will be more nonchalant about it after a while (but perhaps not; I always enjoy my computer’s screen saver). However, it is hard to imagine not loving pictures of the grandchildren. And the pictures of Colorado mean “family” to me as well. The beautiful views of G-d’s creation are a reminder of the lovely summers I have spent there, particularly the last. So this frame is a little bond linking me to my present and past. Now to me, that’s a good deal!

RR-II-CC-KK-II

Several classes form Ricki’s school had a special program today. Her class and another one, as part of the program, did a dance. Ricki’s aid said that she wanted to go home for those hours, and that I should bring Ricki home. So I did. The dance was really pretty simple, and Ricki did quite well (except when she snuck in a wave or two to me).
At the end of the program, they let Ricki dance by herself on the stage. Afterwards a bunch of girls (not from her class) were “cheering” her: RICKI! RICKI! I lifted a hand and said “You can stop right there. She REALLY doesn’t need this….” I don’t mind a bit of praise, but when it is done in an “overboard” manner, it is just so patronizing that I can’t stand it.

Prejudiced for Girls

I am embarressed to say that I have one older son (not so religious) who enjoys playing the computer game GTA. I do not like it. First, it promotes disrespect of the police. In addition,I feel that it has violence to an extent that it can numb one’s sensitivities. He claims that when he’s playing, he pretends to be killing terrorists. Well, I STILL don’t like it. Killing, even of terrorists, should not, in my mind, be a “game”. Such games destroys the fineness of the soul. (Why I let him play it anyway is a different matter. The lesser of two evils…)
Something weird came to my attention. On rare occaision, Ricki stands aside, viewing this. And if my son is shooting he might hit a woman. If he does so, Ricki will pipe up right away: “Not the girls. Only boys”. This puzzles me. Does she identify with them? Maybe it is almost “real” to her? For sure I have to check this out. (And anyway, I want to get this away from HER eyesight at least.) What do you think?

A Long-Ago Trip to the Galilee

Sometime soon Ricki’s class at school will be having their big yearly trip, this time to the Galilee area. Ricki’s aid can’t go, so I will have to fill in for her. Thinking about this today reminded me about a trip I took some 30 years ago. Our “seminary” school had a trip to the Galilee. One of my classmates, “Chaya”, was blind. When we got out of the busses, the “guide” looked at Chaya and started mumbling something about Chaya not being able to go; it might be dangerous. After asking a few questions, I realized that his fear was misplaced (he was seeing “blind”, not “Chaya”). I took responsibility for her. I had read a fair amount about blindness, and knew how to guide and describe things to someone with visual impairment. And, indeed we had absolutely no problems. In fact, the only one in our class who DIDN’T wet her feet crossing a certain pool by rock “stepping stones” was Chaya. The class united in insuring that. I am glad that we had “Chaya”, not “blind” as a classmate.

I was Thrilled

I was thrilled when my son, recently arrived from a few months stay in the US, sat me down last week to practice his English. First, I was happy to see how well his ability to understand the language has improved since his previous return from America half a year ago.
Secondly, he basically was picking my brain for some family history. I am lucky that my parents took the time to record as basic family history. I think that it is an important thing to do, unless, perhaps, you really are verbal about it, and pass it on verbally. I have yet to engage on such a project (who has the time?). So I was extra pleased that my son picked my younger years and my parents’ families as a topic to practice his English with. I had the definite pleasure of feeling that it mattered to him!

Ants

Summer has arrived, and so have the ants. They have surfaced exactly at their favorite haunt from last year, a kitchen shelf full of small items, which is difficult to consistently keep clean. No surprise that this shelf is their “hangout”. So I thoroughly washed the surface, hoping to make it clear that they are unwelcome company.
Well, these persistent creatures (or their friends; I killed most of the first batch) reappeared the following day. Despite the fact that the shelf was spotless. So today I applied spray.

But just take a look at what we can learn from the ant. Our sages say, “Lazy one, go watch the ant…”. But I think that there is a lot more that we can learn from them. First, they are persistent. They don’t give up very easily. They have great memories… they knew exactly where to go, didn’t they? They work well in teams, and communicate very well with each other.

That’s a pretty good list!

Just don’t learn from them to be pests, OK?

When Knowing is Not Enough

Ricki’s Dad is returning from overseas, arriving in a few hours. After he had been gone about a week, Ricki started bugging me “When is Daddy coming home?” So I explained. Despite repetitive descriptions and elucidations, she didn’t seem to be “getting it”. This puzzled me, as she has a very good sense of time, and knows the days of the week thoroughly. Finally I realized that the problem was probably not that she didn’t understand the answer, but she wanted a different one.
So I decided to at least give her a sense of control. I drew a timeline, and each day she moves an attached magnet to the appropriate day, one forward. Immediately she stopped asking when her father would return. Not only did she understand, but she felt a sense of participation in bringing him home.

Don’t we all feel at times that we want to ask G-d something again, because we desire a different response? It can be so frustrating when we desire a specific answer, and G-d “somehow” decides to overwrite our script of “how things should be”.

But G-d is not Rickismom. HE never gets tired of the request, and will listen to us again and again. Wishing us all happy answers, Rickismom.

Progress

Sometimes it easy not to notice progress… especially if things still need improving. But yesterday and today I noticed. Ricki is (Thank G-d) getting better.
I was in a stationary store with her yesterday, and while she touched nearly everything, she also listened when I said “Put it back, I am not buying that.”. She didn’t throw a moaning and groaning scene either. A definite improvement over a few months ago.
Today I was on the bus with her, and she didn’t make faces at anyone, and when I saw a friend, and told Ricki that this lady is a friend of mine, she actually said “Hi” instead of growling. And her homework sessions have been much better the last few days. She’s even been taking grater care not to jiggle her hearing aid (which makes her squeck)….
Now if I can get her to bed….. Oh, she said “OK”. !!

The “blind dollar”

I saw an article on the US news, saying that the courts have ruled that it is discriminatory for the US not to adapt dollars for the use of the blind. I opened the “discussion” page, in order to post that here in Israel, bills have been easily adapted for the blind by the use of raised shapes.
I was amazed at how many people were posting against any adaptation. It would cost MONEY (oh, the “g-d” of money!).I could not believe the small-mindedness of these posters. It was very disheartening to read. If that is the way most people in America feel, I’m glad I live here. People are misinformed here. Budgets are tight. There is discrimination against the mentally impaired. Here in our town physical access for the disabled is very poor.

But at least we are working on it. No one doubts about the need for the situation to improve.

Belief (Emuna)

A friend recently asked how can one keep one’s belief. Especially if one has had times or situations of hardship.

The first question is not “Why do the good suffer?” One can not even begin to approach this question unless you have established a belief in G-d. Why do I believe in G-d? I simply look at the world—the Rocky Mountains, the eco system, the hexagons in a beehive, the endocrine system…..and I simply do not believe that it can be an accident. If it was all from evolution, why do we not see more fossils of the non-adaptive, not plausible forms? No, I am convinced that there is a G-d. The odds of such an intricate world being created by chance is so infinitely improbable, that compared to it the US lottery should be a cinch to win.
Once I believe that there is a G-d, THEN I can ask why does He let man suffer. Why does He allow evil people to crush others? Why does He allow a world that seems to make no sense? And how can we have “religious” people who are so imperfect?
My basic view is that G-d did not give us any guarantees about life being good, being easy, or being “just”. I can hope in an afterlife that will “even” things out. I can try to behave the way I feel G-d wants. At least I have the satisfaction that in this way I am trying to make the world a better place. Other’s don’t? So I am not perfect either. We all need to work on ourselves. And lucky are those who do.
The “religious” fellow who acts poorly may not truly believe in consequences to his actions (probably because he was brought up to “do” certain customs, but deep belief was not really taught). Or it could be that he has personality problems that are interfering with his knowledge of what is right (which happens to all of us at times, to some degree). Religious belief can help me act better, but it can not force me to do so. I can pay for membership in a gym, but if I do not exercise my spiritual muscles, they will stay flabby, despite the “gym” membership.

Starting the Day Out Right

This morning, as I was returning home after taking Ricki to school, I was treated to a real treat.

No, not iced coffee.
Nor chocolate.
Not even a good book.

Simply, three people passing me on the street gave me a moment of time.
-The principal of Ricki’s school smiled and said “Good Day”
-Her geography teacher (who I have never met, but have talked numerous time to by phone) said, approaching me: “You’re Ricki’s mom, right? I am so impressed by the way you adapt her materials…”
- A third teacher, not one of Ricki’s, but the daughter of a neighbor: “Have a nice day…”

How much time did these “goodies” take? Under ten seconds each. A smile. A short word. I wish I could say that I do the same more often than I do….

Telephone and Gear Shift

I would like to share with you two small vignettes of Ricki from the weekend.
The first is after-the-fact. We had noticed that one of the two portable phones was misplaced. I had heard it ringing in Ricki’s room, but couldn’t see it. On Friday, one of my sons wanted to sleep there (other activities going on in the house made napping in his own room impossible). I was afraid that the portable would wake him up. So I turned on the “locater” button, to try and locate (what else?) the wayward handset. We looked and looked. Behind Ricki’s bed, under her blanket, etc. Suddenly I had a hunch, and opened her “trinkets and precious objects” drawer, and there it was. (After all, her brothers keep phones –cellular- in THEIR drawers, don’t they?)
The second vignette occured on Saturday afternoon. We were all sitting around chatting, and Ricki was playing “driver”. With a plastic plate for a stirring wheel, she was turning hairpin corners, etc. Suddenly she reached out with her right arm to “switch gears”. We were bowled over with her originality!

Do Not Stand Idly

This morning I had the chance to fulfill the “mitzvah” (good deed) of “Do not stand idly by your brother’s blood”. I will need to preface this with a bit of information.
I live in a community where the crime late is probably the lowest in the world. In addition, the residents are helpful people in general. It is common for young children (say age 5 up to 9) to stand on street corners, waiting for an adult to “cross them” the street. At 7:45 AM, and at 13:00, the hours that these children are going to and from school, the streets are full of adults and teens, and this is really pretty safe. I, for example, would have no fear of Ricki being molested during those hours (also because we HAVE talked about strangers), and after crossing her the last corner* I let her continue on her own.
Now I personally have my qualms about after 8:00 AM. Then the streets are not full of other children and teens, and any who are still about are intent upon arriving to school, as they are late. But since we are a very low crime-rate community, parents sometimes get too complacent or unaware of potential dangers, even if they are unlikely to occur.
But this morning was something entirely different. I took Ricki to school a bit late this morning, because her brother’s return from America had attracted many friends, and she was up enjoying the merriment until a ghastly hour. (I plead the fifth.) In order that she not be a complete zombie in school today, I let her sleep extra late, and let her be a bit tardy. On my way home there is a corner with a stop light. Since the street to the right is not a busy one, and I need to go right, I usually do not cross at the stop light. Instead, I turn right and cross the road further along, where the street has no stop light, and is usually empty. Why stand waiting for the light to change, when I can do it quicker, and just as safely, further down?
But as I was turning right, I noticed two tiny children waiting at the stop-light corner. So I did not disregard them , but backtracked, and waited with them. We crossed together. But frankly, it is beyond me how in the world can someone send such young children (age 3 and 4?; 4 and 5?) on their own. Are they THAT sure that the child won’t jump into the street? That they will wait for the light? That no one will accost them? I only regret that I did not try and get their name/ phone number from them, or even walk them back home, and give their parents a piece of my mind.

*We are still working on her crossing streets safely. She is not 100%

A Look from Outside

Today I guess I got a view of how others see me. Sort of. (The "sort of" I’ll explain soon.)
Near our grocery store lives a family that has a daughter with some kind of mental impairment. Often I see someone (I don’t know if it is a hired worker, or an elder sister?) walking with this older teen to somewhere. It could be she is even over 20, meaning that she is probably setting out towards a closed workplace. Otherwise I assume that she is going to school. The problem is that this teen is almost always very belligerent, and obviously upset about something. I can only assume that this family has checked out their options, and are working to make the situation better for both themselves and this young woman.
And I admit, I think to myself, “My G-d, I hope that Ricki..” (who has a belligerent side) “…won’t be like that in 6 years.” As much as one reads about the loveliness of “diversity”, I prefer, definitely, that Ricki will be congenial and happy.

Don’t I wish that for all of my offspring?

And I will divulge that yes… I do have thoughts of “Gee, how does that poor family manage with this?” It sounds very close to the pity I would not want to receive from others.
Sort of.
Why “sort of”?
Because I don’t see the family as “unfortunates”. I see them as a family coping with a challenge. And I am sure that they have benefited as well from the experience.

But I do hope that they are working on improving the situation.

I guess G-d will Have to Manage on His own (Without my help)

Someone by the name of Lori Borgman wrote an excellent inspirational article for mothers of children with special needs. (You can see the entire piece at http://www.cleftadvocate.org/loriborgman.html: ) But I am going to quote just a bit and take it in a completely different direction.
I Quote:
“Expectant mothers waiting for a newborn's arrival say they don't care whatsex the baby is. They just want to have ten fingers and ten toes.Mothers lie.Every mother wants so much more.She wants a perfectly healthy baby with a round head, rosebud lips, buttonnose, beautiful eyes and satin skin.She wants a baby so gorgeous that people will pity the Gerber baby for beingflat-out ugly.She wants a baby that will roll over, sit up and take those first stepsright on schedule (according to the baby development chart on page 57,column two).Every mother wants a baby that can see, hear, run, jump and fire neurons bythe billions.She wants a kid that can smack the ball out of the park and do toe pointsthat are the envy of the entire ballet class.Call it greed if you want, but a mother wants what a mother wants.”

My comments:
There is something else mothers often want. They want that their children should share their ideals, beliefs, and aspirations. And very often, children decide at some point to go off on a tangent that their parents never dreamed of. I know that I did it to my parents. I was raised to believe in college, honesty, and love of nature. And while I still love nature, and try to be honest, my lifestyle is much more closed that that of my parents. I once asked my mother how she “dealt” with that, and she said: “The bird doesn’t fall that far from the nest.”
And it is indeed true. I am amazed at how similar I am to my mother, despite my differences from her.
And now it is my turn to cope. Two of my sons are planning to move away from home soon. They claim that it is to be able to have friends over late at night, but I know that in truth it is because they do not want to live with all the restrictions that an orthodox Jewish life entails.
My first reaction was: “I have to protest! Silence is consent!” Thank- G-d I had the common sense to NOT do that.
My second reaction was: “Is it my fault?” Well, maybe 5%. The other 95% I refuse to bill myself for. But, what difference does it make that it isn’t my fault? On judgment day, it will make a difference. Not here.
My third thought was: “Will the neighbors feel that it is my fault?” Here I decided to actively decide that I needed to be concerned with the opinion of G-d, and not of man.

And through it all:
“HOW CAN I GET THEM TO KEEP SHABBAS?”
The answer: I can’t. I guess I will have to let G-d defend himself.
And continue to love my sons for all the good things that they ARE.

I guess G-d will Have to Manage on His own (Without my help)

Frustration (or I Wish They Would Think)

Doing the mind-boggling (yes, it is mind-boggling at 1 AM) work of preparing Ricki’s materials for school can be SO frustrating. For example, when:
1) Today I called the “Ethics” teacher for her lesson plan for tomorrow. It turns out there is a test. It’s a shame I didn’t know. It’s even more of a shame that Ricki will barely have any time to review the material. And above all this means that I will be up late preparing the test. (It’s not for nothing that I stay awake to all sorts of ludicrous hours…..)
2) Yesterday a regular class was cancelled and a student teacher taught. Is it too much to ask that when this pupil hands in her lesson plan to her instructor a week in advance, that I could get a photocopy? I need the main points of the lesson to enable me to prepare the materials Ricki will need. Otherwise she will probably obtain scant benefit from that hour of instruction.
3) The teacher did not have time to prepare her lesson until the night before, which I understand. But understanding will not compensate for the fact that Ricki could not be primed for that lesson.
4) The last one is one of my “favorites”. Thank G-d it rarely happens. I stay up late Sunday night, preparing materials for Ricki, The next morning, groggy-eyed, I arise in order to be sure that Ricki will get to school on time. Then, whether for good reason or not, the aid comes late. (Let’s judge her favorably, and say it is always for good reason, as I am sure it is.) The end result is that the hour I prepared the materials for has come and gone, and Ricki has sat in on a class not meant for her. For what was I up late the night before?

These are, thank G-d, not frequent events. And I am sure, that with all the good intentions in the world, they WILL happen at times. Teachers are human, after all (despite doubts on this point by their students). They sometimes are tired, ill, or dealing with unusual circumstances. I just want to keep these kinds of slip-ups to a minimum.

The Lessons’ Lesson

Today, being Monday, Ricki should have gone to her after-school dance and exercise classes. It is the one thing she does on a regular basis with other girls who have Down syndrome, and it is the highlight of her week.
However, today she didn’t go. Her homework hadn’t been done. At least not early enough.
Now often Ricki dilly-dallies with her homework, and Mondays are no exception. Often I have had to prod her to get the minimum amount of homework done. Warnings that we are running late, will need to take a cab, etc., seem to fall on deaf ears until I make it quite clear that we are almost at the “Cinderella momemt”: too late to postpone any further.
Today I was much more low-keyed. And I insisted that ALL her homework be done. In the end, even she saw that it was too late to go. I gave her something fun to do (she HAD done her homework), and hope that she learned today that there will be no more prodding nor forgiveness for studies not taken care of.

Kudos to Ricki’s School

This morning I received a phone call from the office at Ricki’s school, an hour and a half after the school day began. Ricki was on the line.
- “What is Sarah’s (the aid’s) phone?”
- I told her, and heard it repeating it to the secretary.. Then she hung up.

The aid had not arrived, apparently. Yet there are several things going on here:

1) They had Ricki talk to me (life skills). They didn’t even demean her by getting on the line later to check that the number was correct.

2) In her previous school, where they TALKED about how they wanted to include Ricki, would call me in hysterics if the aid was 15 minutes late. They made it clear that it was MY problem, and that if she would not be arriving immediately, I would have to come and return Ricki from school. Here they waited an hour and a half, and even then, it was THEIR problem.

So even though we don’t celebrate Mother’s day in Israel, I guess I did receive a gift, didn’t I?

Make it Relevant!

One of the things I am working hardest on lately is to make Ricki’s studies relevant to real life. While I want her to learn a bit of general information (Paris is in France, teeth have crowns and roots)… that is not enough.
Rather than try and fill her up with more and more “general” knowledge, I am trying to use her studies to accomplish two more things:
To enable us to work on vocabulary, writing sentences, sequencing, and the like. This does not need any special genius to work out.
The second task is harder: to draw from the topic to other, similar topics that she needs to learn. (For example, when studying the mouth, the text stated that the nose “checks” food by smell. I was able to use this as an excuse to deviate to the topic of food spoilage and safety.) Finding topics that are learnable in a school environment, which have some connection to the topic in class, and which are practical, needed items, can be challenging. But when I am able to pull it off, I feel that I am REALLY utilizing inclusion to its fullest.

Memories

Memories are very powerful. We can cringe in memory of a bad word said to us, or a misdeed that we regret each and every time it surfaces from the depths of our mind.
And to the contrary, happy memories can be a balm. There are people who deal with pain using positive memories.
Last summer I went to visit my parents along with Ricki. We had a wonderful time; it was a true rejuvenation for me. And since I can not repeat such a trip (certainly not yearly), I have utilized other methods to enhance the after-effects: I have put pictures from the trip as the wallpaper of my computer, and have placed a few pictures from the trip in my room. In addition, I have my mother’s embroidery to feast my eyes on as well.
Now the challenge is if I can create further good memories with my actions, both for me and for others. Lets all try and take the time today to create a positive memory for someone we love.

PS A few hours after I posted this, AISH HATORAH's Lori P. posted a blog on this topic (a similar topic), and a nice one to boot. I just wanted to note that I did not copy from her. Her blog is very well done, on how our reactions are what our kids will remember.

The Second Picture

Yesterday Ricki had a field trip. She was very excited by it, especially since she would be taking her camera.
About a year and a half ago, I bought a simple camera for Ricki, to use for school trips and the like. I fiqured that at age (then) eleven, ALL the girls in her class would have a camera, and she should not be an exception.
Now this did have its drawbacks. I pretty much trusted her to watch the camera, but was afraid that she would let friends use it who might not be carefull. But the real problem was that any trip, no matter how short, inevitably meant that a whole roll of 36 exposures would be shot.
Yesterday, as I handed her the camera, I told her that she should only shoot pictures that were “really nice”. She asked if she could photograph me. I obliged. Then she turned her camera downwards, and took a second frame, this time of the floor.
- “Ricki why did you do THAT?!?”
- “Oh, that was a picture of Este” (her imaginary friend).

When she returned home she had actually only taken about 16 shots. The question is, how many of them are of real people, and how many are of “Este” and the floor?

Dignity

Now for my real blog for today.
Today on my return home from taking Ricki to school, I did my regular grocery shopping. As I approached the dairy products refridgerator, I realized that I would need to wait. Someone else was there picking out what they needed. The person before me was an elderly man, so I stood a bit to the side to let him choose without feeling the pressure that someone else is waiting.

I waited.
And waited.
And squashed the impulse to ask if he needed help.

It seemed like a long time, but it was surely only about 2-3 minutes.

If I can wait 2 minutes for my micro to warm up my coffee, I guess that I can wait 2 minutes to let someone live with a bit of dignity

Playing G-d

I would like to add a further note about the guidlines of who to treat in the event of a pandemic.
Any generalizations and assumptions made by this committee are just that. I know plenty of 85-year olds and almost-85 year-olds who are healthier than people 15 years their junior. And we have plenty of “important” people, I am sure, who have chronic illnesses.

Now I can imagine some of my more liberal readers thinking:
“Well, society has to protect itself. We need to protect those who are more needed by society. This is only a last-resort list.”
Yet, the problem is, we are letting people who are not G-d play G-d. In a crisis, they will need to do their selections quickly. Amazingly articulate and healthy 85 year olds may be refused care, while abusive individuals will receive treatment. And I suppose that people who fail even two criteria will get treated, if they have enough money to bribe the staff.
Unfortunately man does not have the capacity to know all, as G-d, and I fear the day that they will play such a role.
And I still find telling the guideline’s priorities, in lumping the mentally impaired along with anyone with low statistical survival rates.

Pandemic Guidlines

What amazes me most is that they had the guts to print it. Or maybe it doesn’t take guts, because they know that everyone will agree with them

I am writing about the newly released guidelines who not to treat in a pandemic. It boils down to those who are most likely to not survive long term… and one other group. Yup, you guessed it: the mentally impaired and disabled. So if you had any doubts about the reality of where America stands, have no doubts.
Just as a devil’s advocate, I add an idea here. Criminals are not included in the cut. So by US doctors, it would seem that the criminals, terrorists, and murders are more deserving of life than a healthy 20 year-old supermarket bagger with Down syndrome. If that is not discrimination, than what is?

Empathy

My husband is traveling soon to visit his parents. He of course thinks of little else. I know that when I visited my parents last year, I was totally submerged in thoughts concerning my impending travel. Now that it is my husband traveling, I am rather nonchalant about it.
Now to be fair with myself, part of the difference in my attitude may be that I had not traveled in something like 15 years, whereas my husband visits his parents at least once every two years. Despite that difference, I believe that we are going to react more emotionally to things that affect us personally. It is a proven fact that we are more likely to notice articles in the news that are about topics which concern us.
I remember how when Iraq invaded Kuwait in August 1990, everyone around me was very concerned. I was aware of the danger, living in Israel, which was being threatened with missiles. Be that as it may, my psyche was much more involved, day-to-day, with the birth of my son which had occurred at the same time.

This all leads me to s further point. We have all heard stories of people who do extraordinary acts of kindness to others. I wonder… could it be because these people have managed to feel the needs of others as their own? The ability to tap into the mind and wishes of another would, it seems, predispose one to act in accordance to a new set of priorities.
The difficulty, is, of course, “How do we get to the level where we feel where the other person is?”
Perhaps we must start simply. We must try, at least with family members, to try and imagine THEIR mind-set. This may help us be more empathetic and receptive to their needs.

Only One Week?

Gee, it is only one week since Passover ended and the dishes got put away. It seems already a “long gone” event. I guess the shift of attention (after a month or more being centered on preparations for the holiday) to other, more everyday concerns, adds to the contrast and makes the holiday feel more distant than it is.

Diamonds

Today I spent most of the afternoon putting my kitchen back in order. (I’m 95% done.) It is nice, of course, to have these normally somewhat jumbled dishes sitting primly in order, as if awaiting a beckoning call. I admit that I don’t often straighten them up.

Sometimes the dichotomy of my life strikes me as rather strange. Half of my time is filled up with domestic chores: cooking, laundry, and the like. Much of the second half I am working at a very intellectual pursuit: adapting materials for Ricki’s studies, and studying with her. I adapt materials at a very high level, and considering that I am working in a language that I am not fluent in, this is no mean accomplishment. Yet, in actuality, many women find themselves in a similar ship. I think that the challenge is to realize that all of these facets need to intertwine and interplay to create a fused whole. A diamond has many sides and faces.
We can not ignore one aspect of our lives, just because we find another part more fun, fashionable, or supposedly “dignified”. Because, in the end, our success will not be measured by the money we earn, or the position we held, but by the hearts we have won and held and soothed.

Default Faults

This week an amazing thing happened. Somehow my Office “Word” got smart. You see, most of the pages I develop for Ricki’s schoolwork need to be done in “landscape” orientation, not portrait. I was always exasperated that I could not (or knew not how to…) set the “default” orientation to landscape instead of “portrait”.
Then, low and behold, this week the pages started opening by default in landscape orientation. ("Eureeka!" was my initial response.) The problem is, the first ten times or so that I opened a new page, I needed, of course, portrait mode. Now I have to get used to it. The other day I printed a picture and it came out way too large. A one-third width of a portrait page would have been OK, but one-third of the landscape orientation was way too big. (I couldn’t see the bottom of the page, so I didn’t realize nor remember that it was “landscape”.)
So even when you get what you wish for, it can sometimes not be what you envision…….

The bus seat partner

Today Ricki and I were returning from her swimming lesson, by way of bus. She wanted to seat separate from me. She likes the independence, so sometimes I agree to sit elsewhere. At first it seemed that she just wanted the extra empty seat for her bag. But as the bus started filling up a bit, she moved the bag to allow others to sit. She saw a twwn get on, and asked her “Want to sit with me?”
Well, the teen was amazing. Even though she was with a friend, she caught on that Ricki wanted company, and told her friend “I’m sitting here.” She talked very nicely to Ricki. Five bus stops later we alighted; the teen waved, and went to join her friend.
The nicest thing is that she did it all very naturally, and not in a “Pity party” way.

Good for Her!
(And good for Ricki to show a bit of initiative!)

Computer Glitch

Today I spent much of the day trying to deal with a computer glitch. In order to fix something, I had deleted my printer, and when trying to reinstall it, the program decided that my main disk had no empty space (not true at all!). Eventually I got everything working, but felt quite frustrated at the waste of time.
I suspect my husband felt that it was an “avoidance of work” on my part, since my kitchen is still in a state of post-Pesach havoc. (I had put the special Passover dishes away, but had only arranged to arrange about two thirds of the regular dishes. The rest were strewn around VERY haphazardly.)
Yet the reality is that Ricki’s return to school means my return to adapting materials….which is impossible without a good graphics program/ scanner/ printer/computer.

And you can add “time” to that list, which means that tonight I will not be tackling those dishes, either. Geography of France is awaiting my “touch”.

A Thoughtful Gesture

Tomorrow Ricki resumes school after a two-week “holiday” break. The pause in studies has left her a bit hesitant, a touch disconnected with the reality that tomorrow morning it is “get up and go” as usual.
So it was with great pleasure that I witnessed a tiny act of thoughtfulness and wisdom:
Ricki’s teacher (regular classroom) called her up this evening, to ask how her vacation had gone, and to mention that classes resume tomorrow morning.
Ricki bragged of course about how much she had helped (today she actually did). It all was a good way of “priming the pump” for tomorrow.

Well, I DID enjoy this! (See previous post.) Thank G-d, the family pitched in and helped. (Two teenage sons peeled one day no less than 60 potatoes… there being little else appropriate in the way of starch for Passover.) All of our married children came at one point or the other during the seven day holiday, and I had time to read four books!

I hope to recommence posting regularly now that Passover is behind us.

Vegetables

Today I bought vegetables for Pesach. Now, since we don’t eat any bread, rice, or legumes on Passover, I needed to buy a not-inconsiderable amount of vegetables, because what else will there be to eat?

Later, as I was putting the produce away in the fridge (some of it…), I paused.
“You realize that you are going to peel all of this in the ten days ahead? OK, so the family will help. MOST of it….

Yes, I will.
So WHAT?
It is my privilege, opportunity, and pleasure to host my married sons and their families for parts of the holidays, so I am going to ENJOY this!

The Rushed Countdown

Well, it is already less than a week before Pesach (Passover), and cleaning is moving ahead full steam. I am actually not doing too badly (schedule-wise). This is possibly due to the fact that my printer is broken, so I am not tempted to make worksheets, books, or the like for Ricki. (I am not going to make them if I can’t print them!)
The most frustrating thing are the teens who somehow expect good solid meals even though I am presently kitchen-less. (The kitchen is between regular and Pesach state.) It seems to me that sandwiches are fine!
We were at the seamstress again, and she was nice and understood Ricki’s need for privacy! Also, I went shopping a bit with Ricki, and for once she was well-behaved. Progress!

The Salad Maker

My daughter Ricki has the attribute that many of us do: she knows what she SHOULD eat, but doesn’t apply it so well. For most of us, this means trying to eat healthy, yet occasionally (or more often) eating something we know is not a good health choice. Then more often then naught, we will feel guilty, and try again.
Ricki has a unique approach. She will announce that she is going to eat “healthy”. She then prepares a salad, and some other food. Then she will eat the other food, and and decide that she is “too tired” to eat the salad.
What is exasperating about this is that the vegetables, after she has made the salad are often unusable and unappetizing for others to use. Sometimes she adds too much oil. On occasion she concocts salads with extra, strange ingredients. And if one tries to stop her (“You know you will not eat the salad in the end…”), she swears in all seriousness that THIS time she will.
She WANTS to eat right, but somehow it just doesn’t go.

The Fitting

I went with Ricky for a fitting of a new dress I am having sewn for her. It was our second visit to this seamstress. At the first, when we were ordering the dress, Ricki was not on good behavior. The lady tried to cajole her to stand straight, but I could see that she was not willing to use a firm tone with Ricki, and instead offered her sweets. I was non too pleased, but decided that considering Ricki’s behavior, and her not knowing her, it could pass. Today Ricki also was not 100%, but was a bit better. The lady brought the basted dress for Ricky to try on. The problem was, that her son (age 6? 7?) was in the room. Finally I asked, “You want her to try the dress on over her clothing?!?”
“No. of course not.”
“Then your son has to leave the room.” (DUH. I thought it was obvious!)

In our society, where women are very modest, a thirteen year old would never try on a dress in front of a boy. The only reason I can think of for her to expect Ricky to go ahead and try on the dress was because she views her as a young child due to her “specialness”. Well, I certainly wasn’t going to go for that!

The Smart and the Didn’t Think

The Smart
I took Ricki to the hairdresser today to get her hair cut (her sister doesn’t have time lately). She was last at a hairdresser before her brother’s wedding several years ago. Even though I assumed that she had forgotten, she hadn’t. She knew just what to do, and asked me about what wedding we would be attending!

The Didn’t Think
Ricki ruined an album full of photos today, because she took it in a plastic bag to her exercise class- - - - along with a popsicle.

Are We Thankful for What We Have?

In Orthodox Jewish communities, everyone is busy with cleaning for Passover. It involves a lot of work, and often late nights. Women tend to demonize it a bit.
But let’s think back and look. Are any of your family members in the hospital? Do you have money to buy matzahs? Are you free of worry over a possible blood-libel, as Jews used to worry about at this time of year?
If these, and most of the other areas of our lives are intact, I think we need to count our blessings and stop complaining about the work.

The Recipe Book

Some women get shoes or dresses for Yom Tov (holidays); I buy books. So I went late last week to buy books to treat myself with during Pesach (Passover), which will arrive in two more weeks. In addition, I bought a Passover cookbook. [Anyone who knows me and books will ask “Why so early? Won’t you dive into them before the holiday?” The answer is that from now to Passover I will be too busy to go shopping. I manage to stay away from the books by putting them up in the boxes with my Pesach dishes where they are rather inaccessible.] The cookbook I allowed myself to peek into, because I would need to buy the needed ingredients if I planned to use the recipes.
Now a note on me and cooking... I don’t mind on occasion spending time and energy to cook something nice, especially if it is for holidays, and if guests are expected. Other then that, I usually go for simpler foods, simply because of time limitations. Also, even on holidays I will only fiddle around with a few things, because if I am cooking for a large crowd, I have limited time and energy. (Especially since I will want to dive into a new book as soon as possible….) This is surely true on Passover, when nearly everything has to be made from scratch, since few foods are produced for Passover with an excellent kashruth (kosher) supervision. You shouldn’t think my family starves on Pesach. My standard repertoire of Passover dishes, besides soup, fish, and meat, include various salads, eggplant spread, mayonnaise, and apple jelly.
So even though I have one very good down-to-earth Pesach cookbook, I purchased another one, to give me some new ideas and variety, including even a few fancier things for Yom Tov (the more important days of the holiday).
Well, I must say I was a bit disappointed in the end. Almost everything in the new cookbook was fancy (few normal recipes), but worst of all, several calling for ingredients I would not use nor obtain for Passover. (Many called for margarine or butter. I have never even HEARD of Passover margarine. Butter I can get, but it makes the food “milky”, which is not suitable to use along with meat meals, which are customary on Yom Tov.) Add to that the fact that 95% of the meat recipes all called for an oven, and I don’t have a kosher for Pesach meat oven. I am hoping tomorrow to take a second, closer look at the book, but I think I will need to stay with my standard fare and down-to-earth cookbook, which I do certainly enjoy.
But then, if I get one or two really good ideas, and suitably impress my daughters-in-law, maybe it will be worth it? (But then what will I do with the awful pride that will result…?)

A Mom’s Worry

A young woman came to borrow a pregnancy book from me today. I was a bit surprised, as she is really only finishing her first month, and most women are a bit shy to share the news with non-family members so early. She was definitely nervous. She looked at Ricki, though, and didn’t get a “fright”. (Some pregnant women do….) This lady was concerned about eating right, not overdoing things, etc. I gave her a few pointers, like stay away from “natural” drugs as much as she would regular ones. Then I told her “I can see you are nervous. Know that worrying about your kids is part of the package. We all worry, we let our kids take normal risks (like class trips), and we learn to live with it.”
I remember the first time my oldest step-daughter sent HER oldest on a school trip. She called me up and said "now I understand...."

The Cold

All winter, it seems, I have been taking antihistamines, but this morning and yesterday I felt I didn’t need. Then, with a bang, I got the worse cold of the winter. I am beginning to suspect that I may have inherited my Dad’s hay fever… (DRAT!)
Isn’t it amazing that I have taken a three-day break in Pesach cleaning, and felt great, but now that I was all set for a full morning’s worth of cleaning tomorrow, I feel rotten as can be?

I am beginning to suspect that I am coming down with Pesach-itus…

(Actually, it probably has much more to do with the late hour I went to sleep last night…..)

Free Will

Ricky’s “point chart” worked very well the first week; less so the second. Now we are starting the third week, so I sat her down and re-explained the points, showed her the jewelry, and started anew. She was pretty good, but certainly not 100%. But that doesn’t upset me, because, after all, she IS a teen. I can’t expect her to be a robot that listens all the time.
Yet, when she flat-out refused to do homework, I drew the line, and decided that withdrawal of a prize was not enough, and initiated “consequences”. When she finally got her to agree to do homework, I started with something specially fun. All in all it was a pretty good day.

That Extra Chromosome!

Tonight I made a phone call to ask about the wellbeing of a hospitalized child, with Down syndrome, of an aquaitance. Ricki overheard a bit, and asked who I had called. I explained. In addition, I told her how people who have Down syndrome often have, in addition to “a more difficult time learning things”, various health problems, because of “that extra chromosome”. (This is the second time I have mentioned chromosomes to her, but I am sure she hasn’t understood them yet.) I mentioned her own heart operation, although assuring her that now she is healthy.
But in the end, I had to tell her that this friend of mine is hoping for a miracle. Her child is very ill, and may very well not “make it”. I told her the blunt news that she is lucky, because not all kids with Down syndrome survive, even though she, thankfully, did.
In the end I tied the discussion up with the idea that things in life are not always what we want. Good people also suffer at times.
What exactly Ricki gets of all this I don’t know. But these are topics she will need to deal with in her life, and I have to initiate her towards a consideration of the topic.

Pesach Cleaning is Fun!

Yes, Pesach cleaning (spring cleaning) can be fun! Here are some hints how:
1. Put on a nice disc/tape when you work. I enjoy snazzy music; the beat energizes me!
2. Drop the expectation of non-helpers helping. You can try and corral them in… but try and drop the anger if they don’t.
3. Appreciate the oder and cleanliness as you expose it. It is FUN to see a drawer that you haven’t cleaned for a few years, free of dust. Take a picture is necessary.
4. If you are tired, yet have no time for a nap, sit down and do deep relaxation for 10-15 minutes. That should perk you up as well as a two hour nap.

Now there are other things you can do as well, but since I don’t practice them (like going to sleep on time…), I won’t preach them! Good night!

Kings, and the Sdei Chemed: A Study in Contrasts

Let me tell you a story about the Sdei Chemed, Rabbi Chaim Hezekiah Medini. This Rabbi, who later in life was the chief Rabbi in Hebron, was accused of adultery with an Arab cleaning lady in his youth. The charge was false, having been prompted by someone jealous of the young scholar. Eventually the woman came and confessed her lie, but the sdei chemed did not jump at the chance to clear his name. He was worried that his fellow student, the one who had paid the lady to lie, would be shamed in public.
Compare this to the mighty of England. Anyone familiar with history understands that “affairs” abounded at court. Even in our own day, not only was Dianna unfaithful, her husband, the heir apparent to the throne, admitted to adultery.
My only question is: How can a nation admire and idolize such people?

Purim and the Day Before

Purim was a very nice day. Ricki behaved very well, and some of the family was here as well.
The morning before was a different matter. I took Ricki with me to the grocery store, and her behavior was appalling. She kept trying to take “goodies”. In the end I decided that it was time to teach her a lesson, and I left the store mid-purchase with her. (Later I returned without her to finish the shopping.) The store owner tells me that when Ricki comes alone to the store she is fine (when I send her with a list), and that she only tries to grab things when I am with her (and she thinks she can get away with it). (The problem being that I feel that I must pay for any item that she opens, and she will likely consume half before I can stop her.) Now that we left the store this once, I plan to not take her the next few times (informing her of course), and then using some point system for the next time we go.

I was going to post something different tonight, but fter replying to a post from two days ago, I don't have the time to do more. So go to "comments" on "I wouldn't change her if I could" for today's "post".

Joy at Celebrations

The other day I was at a friend’s family celebration. One of her guests kept mentioning to the hostess different negative news facts. There is no lack of bad news. And we are certainly sorry about terrorist attacks and tragedies. However, I feel that to keep mentioning a recent tragedy did nothing to enhance my friend’s enjoyment of her celebration.
Let me give a few other examples.
1) The widow who told me after marrying off a child that she was exhausted after the wedding. At the wedding EVERYONE felt the need to “console” her. She was exhausted trying to find the balance between “happy” and “sad”, not wanting to risk being “inappropriate”.
2) Hard is the lot of a young adult who lets their sibling wed before they are engaged. Not only do they have to deal with their own possibly mixed emotions, but they know with a surety that on the wedding night 99% of the guests will approach them , including those who do not know them personally, to tell them “soon by you”.

When I celebrated my wedding (years and years ago), two tragedies could have been mentioned to me on that day. There had been a terrorist bomb explosion in the market of Jerusalem, and the child of a good friend had died. These friends had returned to Israel to finish the week of mourning.
I am grateful that no one felt the need to cause me sadness on my wedding night by informing of me of these facts immediately. I was given the names of the injured (from the bombing) to pray for, as is often done. But I was given the names without the extra information that these “sick” people were from a bomb incident. Then the next morning I was informed about my friend’s loss, with the added information that their week of mourning was almost over, so I should hurry if I wanted to visit them.
In short, as we are told in Koheles (Ecclesiastes):
A time to weep and a time to laugh
A time to wail and a time to dance
A time to be quiet and a time to speak.

Happy Purim everyone!
(This will probaly be my last blog this week, due to the Purim holiday.)

“I Wouldn’t Change Her if I Could”

When can one see one of the most extreme examples of “disability pride”? Ask on a message board for parents of children with Down syndrome if they would change their kids to “normal” if they were suddenly offered a magical cure. You’d be amazed at how many answer “NO”. The reasons given are usually “That’s who she is”, “She’s our special angel”, “I’m used to her like this”, and the like.

Here I am tempted to write a swear word. It is hard for me to believe this....
First, if these parents had a child with any physical disability, like diabetes or club foot, would you believe that they wouldn’t go running to the doctor for a cure? Why? Because illness infringes on living a normal life.
I hate to say it, but so does Down syndrome. I would grab at a cure. Not for my sake, not from shame, G-d forbid. For RICKI’S sake. So that she can get married and have kids that won’t be taken away by family services. So that she can understand nuances she doesn’t catch today, that warn her of danger. So that her chances of having a decent job will be improved.
As for those who say “I’m used to her like this”, I have a simple reply. My teens changed too. They became something I wasn’t used to. I never stopped loving them, though, as a result.

(PS Added note written later: It is worthwhile top read the comments. There is a whole added analysis of the matter there.)

Accused

I was interviewed by the press here the day before yesterday. No kidding; I really was. No, I have not gotten started with Israeli politics. I am accused of child abuse.
No, I did not spank Ricki in the parking area of the supper market. What I did was to allow plastic surgery on Ricki at age 1 year. This, the English press calls child abuse. And the attitude towards plastic surgery on several boards for DS tends to be very negative. The slant is that parents only do the surgery for their own advantage, from embarrassment, thus teaching their child self-hatred.
Well, I would like to tell a bit about the other side of the story.
I knew very well that the surgery would not make her look "normal". It only makes her look like she is less affected. So why do it at all?
First of all, it was highly recommended to us by Feurstein center, one of the big centers for treatment of children with Down syndrome in Israel. (They recommend it for the reasons given below.)
I knew already by that time that we wanted to go the route of inclusion, and I understood three important things:1- as much as I would like people to react to HER, they will react to her looks. It is a fact of life.2- I wanted her teachers to have higher expectations3- I did not want other children to react as negatively to her as they would without her having the surgery.We have been very pleased with the results. I have NO DOUBTS that this has eased the process of her inclusion.It had NOTHING to do with our not accepting her.It had NOTHING to do with our (G-d forbid) not loving her.We paid a mint in order to ensure a top-notch surgeon. It was totally for our own child's eventual welfare.

We purposely did it when she was young, at an age, true, where she can not give consent, yet also an age where she will not remember the surgery. Thus the argument that it will lower her self esteem would not apply here. If she needs a “touch-up” at age 20 plus, I would only do it if she asked us to do it. Would anyone accuse a parent who did plastic surgery on a “normal” child, for removal of a feature that causes them to be stared at, of child abuse? Or perhaps you would assume that they love their child and had good reason?!!!???? No, I suspect not
. And PS... she still gets looked at and judged by her looks... and I explain to her that it is part of having DS., that she will have to learn to deal with other people's stupidities

The Chocolate Holiday

Well, Purim is coming, and the question is: Can I change?

Purim is a holiday when we distribute charity, and send portions of food to friends and neighbors. Surely this was originally the sending of FOOD. Most people today send candies, cake, and other delicacies. As you can imagine, the retailers advertise in such a way as to lead you to believe that if you do not send something “creative”, “original” or satisfactorily expensive, you are a bit remiss. Some of us fall for this, some don’t.
I personally like to send homemade coleslaw or another salad for Purim. The cakes and cookies just get shuffled from one house to another. I try and send what I would want to receive. Something healthy and which can actually be used later that day in the festive meal which commemorates the miracles of Ester and Mordichai.
Purim is also a day when it is easy to send a nice gift to someone whose work and efforts you appreciate. To this end, I have decided to send to the girls of Ricki’s school class a candy “tree” of chocolates and candy. (For them, I feel I do have to be “creative”.) The question is, can I keep my lips off the ingredients? And on Purim, can I also abstain?

I think that the first step to this end is to convince myself that I CAN accomplish this.

A Turn for the Better?

I received a small brochure from a friend on Friday. At first I suspected that it was, in the spirit of the upcoming “Purim” holiday, a satirical parody about inclusion (or lack thereof). However, on pursuing it, I discovered that it was in fact a booklet written to promote inclusion, connected with an agency that used to put obstacles in OUR way a few years ago, when we were pursuing inclusion for Ricki. This agency still, in my opinion, does not give the amount of support needed for inclusion. However, it does seem that it has made a switch in their basic operating mode: that today they do feel that inclusion is feasible, possible, and even positive for children in their pre-grade school years. This alone is a significant step forward.
This was a very interesting discovery for me. For years I have demonized the director of this agency, her name meaning the antithesis of inclusion to me.
Gee, I guess people CAN change, can’t they?

End of Season Sales

Although I always felt in high school an anathema for the “shopping” culture, I have thoroughly enjoyed the last few days of end-of-the-season clothing shopping. I bought several things for Ricki on my own, things I was sure will fit her in two years if not in one. Today I took her to try on a few things that I saw in a slightly more exclusive store (not-bargin-basement style). It was nice to be able to get a few nicely cut offits at a normal price, and best of all, Ricki behaved pretty well today. So far the is earning most of her points on her chart. She is highly motivated, and is able to curtail her shenanigans whenever I remind her that she is working towards a prize..

6 Things About Ricki

I am always vexed that people view my daughter solely as a being with Down S, rather than as a person and INDIVIDUAL in her own right. Therefore, I would like to list 6 non-DS things about her:
1) She likes to change hairdos. She has 4 favorites, and each morning chooses what it will be today.
2) She is a big catsup eater.
3) Her favorite color, as with many many girls, is red.
4)She likes to cover her whole head while sleeping.
5)She wants to someday be a teacher. (I don’t know what I will do with this….)
6)Ricki likes to tell jokes

Progress Report

So here's what I did today:
1. I decided the things that most need working on:
a. to basically accept my authority, ie listening to direct orders. (Not that she can't try and bargain a bit, but to obey if given as an order)
b. to sit down and work a reasonable amount on studies
2.Review what she benefits from not cooperating: getting out of work, gaining things I forbid, negative attention.
3. Decided on a wanted prize not in use already for school
4. Bought prizes (Jewelry)
5.made up a chart page for the remainder of this week. Broke desired behavior down (listen in AM, listen on way to/from extra curricular activities, listen in afternoon, listen in PM, Did homework.)
6. let her choose the necklace she wants to work for this week.
7 explained it/ started it.

Result: Was MUCH better today. I also remembered to praise her when she listened, and bought her a sudden surprise prize for good behavior (I clearly specified what I was pleased with) on way home from her swimming class.

AAAUUUGGGHHH

First, I made the mistake of shopping with Rickie after her concerta wore off. I should have known better.
On our way home from her exercise class, we passed a favorite store of children’s clothing who were having an end-of-season clearance sale. I peeped in, and the prices were indeed very low. Ricki had asked me to buy her a bottled drink, so I told her that if she behaved well in the store, I would buy her the drink that she wanted, when we were finished.
At one point she stepped out of the store for a minute (not dangerous here). A few minutes later she was back with a drink. She had gone next door, said she was thirsty, and a stranger had bought her a drink. (Actually paid for one that she had opened.) AAUUGGHH!!!!!!!!! (Besides the point that that she “got around” my plan, there is the bit about letting a stranger pay…)
Well, I am firmly resolved that this will not be condoned. For a long time things are going to be refused because she went behind my back. She will rue the act.
But I am still exasperated. And I still feel like a mom who can’t control her child. She is getting more and more out of control. As soon as I start working on one area, three others pop up. Which makes me feel like a failure. I am so scared that this will become a habit (in actuality, it has…). I should have done better behavior modification on this before. I am embarrassed, frustrated, and upset. But I am also determined. I will not let this pass by. And I pledge to start seriously on a concrete, preemptive plan. If I don’t post something concrete by Monday, you can question me.

Sleep and Flashlight

As I have mentioned previously, Ricki has been afraid to go to sleep at night, unless I am on the computer in the room. (It is interesting to note that on Friday evening, when I never use the computer, she has no problems.) In order to get some control of the situation, I decided to let her have a flashlight to use at bedtime. I had been told by people with experience, that the feeling of control that the flashlight gives the child (since he can choose to light it or not) helps them overcome their fear.
Well, we tried it, and it has worked pretty well! Actually very well. She was asleep in minutes!
Now I have to close this computer to get ME to sleep!

A Wonderful Kindergarten Teacher

Several years ago, a friend of mine asked that her daughter with Down syndrome be included in a local day school. She was one of the first in our city to be "included". My friend asked the play school teacher what she would do if other parents protested. The teacher said, "Don't worry, that's my job."
At the end of the year, my friend asked "By the way, did anyone protest?" The teacher smiled. "One day a father came to our school to pick up his daughter. He noticed 'Leah’ and asked
-Isn't this child from the (special ed) class next door?'
-No, I replied, she is from our class.
He went home, and related this to his wife. She called up immediately and apologized, saying that of course they had nothing against 'Leah', and he hadn't meant to imply...”

“That”, said the teacher, was the only ‘protest’ we had the whole year.”

The teacher who is the hero of this story was also Ricki’s teacher one year. She died young, a few years ago, and I went to “console” the mourners. They related that any time a “special-needs” child she had agreed to accept would have a toileting “accident”, she would “handle” the cleanup, and not her assistant. (Normally the assistant handles things like this.) Her reason:” I agreed to accept the child; the aid didn’t have any say in it!”

Some “simple” people are special. She certainly was.

He Killed an Old Lady

My daughter has a friend who has a friend who killed an old lady last week. He was in the territories, part of an army operation to flush out a known terrorist, when suddenly a woman ran from the house. He thought that she was about to shoot, and instinctively shot before he realized that it was an old lady. He doesn’t feel guilty. The guilt he places at Hamas’s door. But he is not proud of any “heroic” deed. In fact, he is upset that he was the cause, even inadvertently, of shedding the blood of a civilian.
But Hamas, in sending motors to civilian houses in sderot, ones not hiding terrorists, have no such qualms. They are proud of killing, and the pledge is that they will continue. Continue to TARGET kids, moms….. and tonight, high school students in Jerusalem.

“She Has to Know”

Today I got onto the bus with Ricki . She went ahead of me while I paid, as always, and sat down. Suddenly I saw a woman give Ricki a bag with some snack food in it. I stepped over quickly to intervene. I told Ricki that she must return the bag; I do not allow her to accept it. She wanted to keep it, but I insisted. The lady started protesting, but I told her that Ricki needs to know that she can not accept gifts from strangers. Finally, Ricki saw that I would not relent, so she threw the bag back to the lady, strewing the pieces over the floor unintentionally. I commented to Ricki that it was too bad that she had thrown the bag. The lady said “Well its YOUR fault, Lady!” I faced her and said calmly, “Look, I appreciate your effort to be nice, but for her education she has to know that she can’t accept gifts from everyone.” At that point we got off the bus (luckily it was a short ride.)
I am glad that I handled the situation calmly. I wish I wouldn’t have to have handled it.

Poodles

Today I was in a car, and gazed out the window, hoping to see something interesting. What I saw was someone walking two poodles. The poodles were carefully groomed, with their hair trimmed in typical “poodle” style. They looked very aristocratic. It was interesting that one poodle was off-white, and the second one was coal-black. But what struck me was that they were not being walked by a fashionable lady in high heels. They were obviously the possession of a heavy set fellow, who was patiently waiting for them as they scampered around.. If you had asked me what sort of dog fits him, I would NEVER have thought of a poodle! Aren’t people interesting?

Everyday Concerns Versus the Bigger Issues

Actually, I think it is very interesting, usual, and human that most of us find the day-to-day events of our lives to be more "impacting" on our feelings and quality of life than the "news".
I remember when the first gulf war broke out by Saddam Hussein’s invasion of Kuwait. There was talk in Israel about gas masks, scuds…in short, everyone was tense. And I? I was in the hospital after the birth of a child, and quite frankly was rather oblivious to the commotion and panic around me.
I live in Israel, and there is a war going on an hour and a half away from us. But yesterday I was personally more bound up, thought-wise, by personal happenings in my life. This doesn't mean that we can ignore the bigger issues. Because if we do, they will eventually affect us and reach our doorstep as well. (This is besides our moral obligation to care for others, do justice, etc.)
However, our own everyday concerns take precedence in our lives, usually. We need to make time for both, each in its own season.

Eyes / Ears/ Pesach

Ears:
Ricki has had a bit of trouble getting used to her hearing aid after a week and a half lapse of use. However, this morning when she said “I can’t hear you…” for the seventh time, I suggested that she needed to have her hearing aid. She heartily agreed! GRIN
Eyes:
I have had pinkeye for the last several days. Yesterday it finally started getting better. I dread the possibility that my other eye has “caught” this and could flare up any time. Besides the discomfort, just the lack of ability to use the swollen eye is very disabling. The lack of depth perception that a second eye gives one was enough to impede any efforts on my part to carry on “as usual”. I just couldn’t zip around as quickly or energetically as I wanted to.
Pesach (Passover):
If I was behind in my Pesach cleaning before, now I REALLY am! I am not moaning, but laughing! I am looking at this as a happy challenge-race.
Meanwhile, I did clean and order our closed storage room. Amazing how much space there is in there, once the junk got taken off the floor….