It seems so great that our school district is so willing to do everything to make a small boy with CP able to go to Kindergarten - everyone is acting like it is no big deal and that they are not concerned or like this sort of thing happens everyday. I know it happens and we of course are only one of many families doing the same thing everywhere. However, it all feels a bit disingenuous to me. Why can't we all just be honest for one second and say.. hey.. this might be a little tricky - can we just give it our best shot. One might think that I would be happy hearing how "great it will be" and how "fine he will be" and how " its not a problem." I would like someone to just say... hey lady, this sucks. I was getting caught up in the perkiness of it all last week when we met Max's teacher and aide and had a special private tour of the school and the class - which was exactly what I had asked for and worked the phones a bit to ensure would happen before summer ended. I made sure we looked great and casual and like nothing can phase us. I chose my outfit carefully so as to not look like a crazy person, made sure Max looked - sporty, preppy, cute and told him, before we got there, to find "his center!" Yes, I actually said that because nothing else came out of my mouth... I don't even know whether a five year old "has a center" and even if he did whether he could actually find it...

I don't even know what I was hoping for, but Max decided he would wow the new aide by showing her how well he could burp...loudly!!!

Nevertheless, it finally dawned on me, that it is our child..our sweet baby...who is the new boy with CP coming to school and while I keep thinking and being gently persuaded that I should be celebrating this fact since a few short years ago, school might not have been possible... I don't feel like celebrating... I love a party as much as the next girl, but I really don't want to be having a CP party. There aren't any good party favors and I can't find a pinata of a boy in a wheelchair at Party City. And besides.. what costume would I wear????

This is my party and I will cry if I want to ...

My father died 10 years ago today...

At Home Depot on Saturday to do something and I am with Hun, Max and Sophie. I am carrying Max from inside the store where there are no shopping carts back outside to try to find one. He is big. He is big and I am small. When I carry him, he looks even bigger.

There we go in search of a shopping cart as an old man decides he is going to interact with us. Now just as an aside, I have always loved old men, particularly old black men - they seem to embody the whole concept of "elder" to me and I have treasured the times when I can make an "acquaintance." Nevertheless, the following conversation transpired..." Hey little boy... why are aren't you walking? You better get down and stop giving your mother a hard time.. are you a lazy little boy? Your sister isn't lazy... she is walking, why don't you get out of that cart and walk like you should?"

So.. I said, well... he isn't walking because he has Periventricular Leukomalasia which means there is a softening of the matter at the rear ventricles of his brain. This is often referred to as Cerebral Palsy and was caused by serious and unfortunate complications before he was born and results in involuntry muscle spasms that are in the form of unwanted spasticity in all his muscles. As you can plainly see, this means he cannot walk at this time.

Wouldn't that have been great? I just stared at him and said absolutely freakin nothing! I saw Sophie look at me and wait for me to say something but I didn't. I just walked away. I chickened out.

So I was just procrastinating and surfing the news and saw an article called " Bloggers we most want to see in Bikinis!" I, of course, expected to be included in that article - because for God's sake - who doesn't want to see a 41 year old van driving mom from the suburbs in a bikini?!!!

However, sadly, I was not included in the list...

Nevertheless, the fact that I do spend a majority of my time in a bathing suit did not escape my critical mind. I am wearing the bathing suit ... as something of a COSTUME... for the summer as I enjoy being at the town pool more than just about anyone else in town. I often have to drag my kids there just so I can go. I have pretty much perfected the art of "packing the pool bag" and actually even enjoy the endless washing of the towels at the end of the day.

Max and Sophie do not like to leave the pool in their bathing suits, they like to change before getting in the car. This would be fine, but I keep forgetting this minor detail so for the last two days I have put Max in the car in his underwear. The bizarre thing is that he doesn't even realize he has no pants on for a good 10 minutes or so when out of the blue he suddenly calls out, very loudly..."Where are my PANTS? I have NO PANTS!"

The sitting by the baby pool and eating ice cream at the snack bar has provided me with much food for thought ( as well as much food for eating) as I now consider myself a "researcher" of the summertime stay at home mom species. I am finding it difficult to reconcile the sometimes annoying tediousness of being a "housewife" and the sheer exhausting nature of it with the dirty nasty truth that I am AT THE POOL, in my bathing suit, sitting on a beach towel and squirting my kids with water guns stolen away from younger, smaller children... and my husband is stuck at WORK. All these women are AT THE POOL - sometimes for hours on end...

Am I being disloyal by outing all of you? Why are you still complaining and being grumpy to your husbands when they sometimes show up looking ridiculous and hot in their black shoes and oxford shirts as they come off the train and meet you at the pool at 6:30? You should at the very least be offering sex or something for the sheer pleasure of being able to sit by the pool ALL DAY!

Sure, sure, you have to make sure your kids don't drown and you have to find all the pool toys at the end of the day. You even have to make sure the sun screen is applied correctly. Hell, I even have to carry 40 pounds of wet slippery Max around from one end of the parking lot to the other, carry his walker, the pool bag, towels and 18 pairs of goggles ( in case we lose one) and then make sure no one knocks him over in the the baby pool, make sure Sophie doesn't accidentally drown him as she drags him around like a dog on a leash, and that I don't accidentally drop him in the big pool. But, still...its the pool!!!!

So... to all you moms in Metuchen spending the summer at the pool.. I want to see some smiles, some happy hugs and great to see yas to those middle aged husbands toiling away in the big city! They deserve a little love don't they?

I have never imagined that gymnastics would figure so prominently in my life. It was always something so ridiculously foreign to me since while I was sort of athletic, I could not do a backbend and still cannot. It was also something my religious jewish parents thought was "too gentile" for me. I suffered through piano lessons...and way awful hebrew school!

Nevertheless, Sophie is a gymnast and is spending the better part of her entire life in the gym. This presents interesting and controversial material for blogging - but today, gymnastics and the ubiquitous "gymnastics party" presents the following question: Can a 5 year old be a prick?" Or, is the mere fact that one is only 5 years old be a complete waiver to the assignment of such a quality?

Max's friends are obsessed with gymnastics birthday parties. He has been to about 25 of them and we never miss one. Why, well, Max loves them and we pretend that taking your son with CP to a gymnastics party is "no prob!" Hun has received the honor of the taking because the physical stamina it takes to carry Max around the gym and on the trampoline and up the ladders and through the tunnels and into the ball pits is more than I have on most days. However, I have had the pleasure several times, this most recent party included. Max has the most wonderful time and we provide plenty of entertainment for the other parents who are working so hard socializing and smoozing. These other parents are often my good friends and for the 45 minutes of the gymnastics party they become a vast blur of everything I am not doing at that moment.

Before I get to the prick part, I want to give a shout out to the wonderful friend who asked if we would mind her having a gymnastics party for her son before she planned it since we didn't know eachother well and she wanted to make sure Max would come and if he couldn't she would plan something else. This person.... I now love.

Ok.. so I am in line carrying Max through the obstacle course and we are going slow because...... hmm... lets see.... Max can't walk.... and the boy says...."Hey everyone, lets go around Max because he is too slow." Of course, that makes perfect sense, I kind of wanted to go around Max but I didn't say anything... I turn to boy and say... "Hey, he is going as fast as he can... wait your turn." Later, we are in line for the pleasure of jumping on the trampoline, boy says... " Max, get in the back of the line because you can't jump." I say... "tough shit litte boy, he can too!" No, just kidding, I say in my most politically correct voice, " Now, you know Max jumps in his own way so, just wait your turn."

Several long minutes later, we are in line for the balance beam... boy says, " Max can't go, he can't even sit, he can't do this because he can't walk... he can't do anything." I am not even sure Max heard him or maybe he did and he is more mature than me, but he just looked right at him and said nothing. I got down on my knees and looked him in the eye and gave him a nice long lecture complete with examples of all the things I know for sure this boy can't do. He says, " I don't ever need any help, I can do anything."

So... can a 5 year old be a prick?