The birthday girl

Clara turned six years old this week. How do I have a six-year-old?

We recently read a Berenstain Bears book where the mother gets breakfast in bed, and although this is a tradition that I adored growing up, I didn't plan on passing it on to Clara quite yet. However, after reading the book she requested a similar service, and I acquiesced to her request. I told her she could pick any cereal she wanted, and she told me she wanted what she was eating that morning, generic Life (yes, Kroger makes a Life cereal--it's pretty good). Fine by me.

On her birthday, she got some excellent books from my parents and a pillow pet from us, her most desired possession. She doesn't need any more soft stuffed things, but it was quite a sweet moment watching her open it.

Clara has also never had a birthday party. I never wanted to throw her one because (1) I am lazy, (2) I didn't think she'd appreciate it, and (3) I didn't think it would be a good experience given her history at these types of events.

However, this year we decided to have a party. Clara was at times incredibly excited and at other times informing us she no longer wanted a party. This sort of vascillating is quite typical for her, so we just forged ahead.

My parents were able to come up for the event, which was so lovely. 

The theme: Snow Princess. (I failed to take a picture of the many snowflakes I cut out, dangling from the ceiling.)

The place: Our house.

The guests: Five little girls from church.

The game plan: 

some crown-making,

 some pinning-the-jewel-on-the-princess-crown, 

some pizza-making,

some puppet-show watching, (which was an absolutely hilarious play written by Michael)

some present-opening,

and some cake- and sundae-eating.

The result:

Well, there was definitely some pouting and tears (as well as some running away when the cake was being blown out because the candles were too scary), but more often there was smiling and laughter and fun.


 

 We hope she had a fun day. I know I had fun preparing it. I think I secretly wanted a crown myself.

A different view

Michael and I have both been working on faces this week.

These are mine.

 These are his.

Michael is preparing for Boards and has to trace the cephs (skull x-rays) of six patients--in addition to doing a ton of other work, which has included two separate trips back to Augusta since our move here--in front of the American Board of Orthodontics. It's a pretty big deal, and let's just say that we'll both be pretty happy when February has come and this exam has gone.

As for my profile attempt, I saw silhouettes on this blog probably over a year ago and decided to copy her idea. Imitation is the greatest form of flattery, right? (as opposed to an indication of laziness and lack of personal creativity). You can't really tell from the pic, but I used different patterns of cardstock behind the silhouettes and the overall effect is nice. It isn't too tricky to do if you're not picky. But of course, I am sometimes, so this project took a bit longer than it could have. (It also took some candy to persuade Clara to sit perfectly still while she couldn't smile and couldn't look at me.) Good thing I have an encouraging husband who helped me not throw them all in the trash.

Wish we could see more of you up close and personal, too, but I guess seeing your mugs on FB and blogs is the best we can do right now.

(Speaking of mug shots, today we got our Virginia driver's licenses, and the employee at the DMV informed me that I could smile for my picture but couldn't show my teeth. Huh?)

Cold.

Every day this week Clara and I have been trying to spend a little time outside riding her new scooter. The last two days she has taken to bringing her wagon outside, which is really a garden wagon but which she uses to transport her valuables.

It is very cold outside here right now, especially with the wind. My ears were bright red after only ten minutes outside. Michael and I walked with Clara outside as she took her wagon for a walk, but when we wanted to go inside for a minute to thaw, Clara protested strongly.

Her distress was fitting considering her response to Michael the other day. After playing outside he said, "Let's go inside to warm up."

Clara inquired, "Can we warm up outside?"

A big day

Today was Michael's first day as an orthodontist.

We discussed at length what the dress would be (we wanted to go more dressy casual), but since the current office staff and orthodontist wear scrubs, Michael wasn't about to shake things up on the first day. He wears scrubs well, if anyone can. I didn't get to take a pic of him with his white clinic jacket on over it, though. Maybe I'll sneak into the office and grab an action shot.

He has been seeing patients for the last two and a half years during residency (and obviously in dental school as well), so it wasn't like it was a foreign experience, but still, he is now qualified and all the money we paid to overnight paperwork to get his Virginia dental license will be worth it.



Today was also Clara's first day of Kindergarten, but unfortunately I did not take a picture to commemorate the event. We had held her back in school so she began full-day Pre-K in the fall, but here she had to go to Kindergarten since she's going to be six.

I was pretty nervous, and so was she. She vacillated between every day asking me what day it was and wanting it to be Monday and telling me that she didn't like school and didn't want to go to her new school, that she wanted to go to her old school.

Fortunately, she did well. It helped considerably that we had already met with the principal, her new teacher, and the special ed teacher over the break. They've all been tremendously supportive, and we hope that things continue to go well.

So all in all, January 3rd was a pretty good day.

And days like these don't happen all the time, you know.

Christmas, abbreviated.

We drove back to ATL for Christmas--it was a long drive after having driven up to VA the week before, but it's always wonderful to see family.

We enjoyed a Charles Dickens' Christmas Eve eve dinner with my family, aided by my sister-in-law who served a misison in London to ensure we had appropriate British dishes. Such deliciousness included turkey, yorkshire pudding (kind of like German pancakes--quite yummy), brussel sprouts, and plum pudding with custard (the latter being a staple at the English table, apparently).

We of course finished off the meal with pulling our "crackers" and donning the paper hats inside. We have always had crackers at the Christmas Eve table, but it was fun to have our food fit the bill as well.

Our actual Christmas Eve was enjoyed at the Weilers at the traditional Joseph and Mary dinner, where we eat by candlelight, sharing foods that might have been eaten by Joseph and Mary: fish, raisins, pita bread, cheese, grape juice, olives, and fig (newtons) for dessert. It is a special meal, and unfortunately I didn't take any pictures. Perhaps that is just as well as it is a quiet and special sort of experience.

Christmas morning was full of goodies: Clara's favorites were the magic wand she wanted from Santa (thank you $1 section at Michaels), a scooter, and a new baseball hat.

Then we bought another car and traveled back here to VA, driving separately because Michael had to go see patients in Augusta for his Boards. After our scary snow experience up here, we wanted to get a car that could handle it, so we are enjoying our 2001 Subaru Outback.

Clara is a great car-rider, and we are so grateful to be back safe and sound.

We are trying to get our cars registered, our lives in order, and our goals set for the new year.

Can you believe 2010 is over??!

New digs

Well, we made it to Harrisonburg safe and sound. Michael drove the massive 24-foot truck with me driving separately in our car. About 15 people from our church here came to help us unpack, and they were awesome.

We hadn't seen the place in person before we came, so we were a little nervous. Fortunately, we really like it.

It's a "paired home," which is a fancy word for duplex, except that it is more like a house divided in two with separate entrances on opposite sides of the house (so you really feel like you have your own place. We just signed a six-month lease, but we might end up staying quite a bit longer because we love the locale and how quiet it is. The house itself isn't huge, but we don't need a big place and haven't really missed the furniture we had to put in the garage and attic.

The day after we moved, we got some snow. Clara was very happy. Very happy.

Then I had to drive in it to help return the moving truck with Michael. I was afraid I was going to die, or at least crash the car. We discovered we have bald tires and we definitely need to get all-wheel drive, or snow tires, or something.

A sweet old lady across the street (we discovered we live in a mostly retired neighborhood) invited us over for herb tea and cookies when she saw Michael pulling Clara in our make-shift sled (our ice cooler) up and down the street. We have already been invited to dinner and on two play-dates. We are thankful for so much kindness, both here and in Augusta helping us pack the truck and move out. Still, I miss my friends in Augusta and miss the comfort of knowing where I am going as I drive--Michael has an excellent sense of direction but I am not so blessed. I also miss all of Clara's therapists and haven't even begun to try to find ones here. Still, we are grateful to be here.

Even though our place is cozy, we do have three bedrooms and plan to get a hide-a-bed couch or something and some other sleeping arrangements. So don't let that stop anyone from coming to visit us!

GRADUATION

It is hard to believe, but 10.5 years of post-high school training are over, and Michael is now an orthodontist. The celebration was held at a Marriott here in Augusta, and it was lovely. With only three residents graduating, there is a strong closeness and sense of family among all the colleagues in the department. They even do a video presentation of each resident's life--it's like a wedding dinner. It was a wonderful evening.

Michael receiving his certificate--I love that they include the spouses (I kind of feel like I graduated, too).

Our parents came up for the occasion and spent the entire day beforehand helping me pack, fixing stuff around the house, etc. They were incredible.

The three graduates, Michael, Stephanie, and Virginia. We're the only ones going away from ATL sadly, but we really hope we can stay close to these wonderful friends from Michael's program.

Michael and his program director, Dr. DeLeon, who treats all the residents like his children and is a wonderful mentor.

Michael and his proud parents.

One happy couple, proud and thankful for all who have helped us get to this point. As they said during the evening on many occasions, this is definitely a team effort. We have so many people to thank: our parents, friends, fellow residents, part-time and full-time faculty and staff, and the Lord. 

 

 

 

And now on to a new adventure! Four days left. Our house is full of boxes. Our to-do lists are full, our stress levels are high, sleep is low, but our determination and gratitude are sky-rocketing.

Another permanent fixture

People love Clara. They just do. They seem to flock to her, even when she isn't always feeling like she wants to be flocked.

Examples: Jimmy and Alison at Kroger, who always ask about Clara; the librarians at our library (more on them for another post); people at church, etc., etc.


(I need to take a picture of the amazing hand-painted nativity set she was given by another of these dear friends, but it is packed away, along with innumerable other items I am hoping I don't need between now and next week.)

In the mean time, let me tell you about Clara's visit to the Build-A-Bear store with our friend Beth. Beth tells me I can come along (I wanted to experience it vicariously through my child) as long as I don't make a stink about what she is spending on my child. I agree, and spend a lot of time during our outing pursing my lips with my eyes bugging out as I look at price tags. 

Clara immediately is drawn to a sweet, velveteen bear. She adores stuffed animals, but especially bears, as you might recall. We prompt her to keep looking, just in case, and then she picks out this horrible huge-headed Hello Kitty one. Nothing against Hello Kitty, but it was not what I had in mind. Fortunately, we come back to the bear and it was still the number one choice.

After you pick the unstuffed animal, you get to have it stuffed by a very loud "fluff machine." This causes distress and tears for Clara, so Beth gets another one and has it stuffed while Clara holds the empty one. She handles it pretty well, all things considered, and even helps put the little satin heart inside before the bear is stitched up.

Then we pick out an outfit and we are set to go.

Clara does not let go of the little "house" that the bear came in for the rest of our outing and refuses to let us carry it.

I ask Clara what she wanted to name the bear. She tells me, "Clara." I inform her that she cannot name it Clara because (1) she has already named a doll Clara, and (2) she needs to think of something else. I suggest "Rosie" because the bear has a little rose on her adorable pink satin bloomers.

In addition to buying Rosie, taking us to lunch, buying Clara candy and a cookie, getting an adorable-but-overpriced ornament dedicated to us, and getting her treats for the car, Beth has been a wise and encouraging friend to me (she is a special ed teacher), one who has sat with Clara when I've needed to lead the music, and one who has shown me a true example of faith and unconditional love.

We will never forget her, just like we can't possibly forget so many others who have impacted our lives here in Augusta over the past 6 1/2 years so much.



Rosie is now a member of our family, and is a permanent fixture in Clara's arms, along with Mr. Bear. (Oh, you thought Mr. Bear wasn't around any more? So much for my efforts.)

Recent tidbits

CLARA, out of the blue: Mama, is there anything I can do for you?
(ME, thinking: Wow for asking it, and yes, could you please massage my rhomboids?)

CLARA: Mama, thank you for cutting my toast.
(ME, thinking: I will cut your toast until you're 18 for saying that so nicely.)

CLARA: Does the baby Jesus have hair?
 ME: I don't know. What do you think?
CLARA: I think so.

CLARA: Satan is not very nice. He doesn't have a physical body.
MY FRIEND: Yeah, because he didn't make good choices.
CLARA: Yeah, he got a red light. (at school, they get a "green light" for good behavior)

CLARA: You make the best food, Mom.

Clara's current favorite word: despicable

 

Clara is sporting a scrunchie on her head that she found at my parents' house over Thanksgiving. Two funny things about it, besides her use of it in the above photo: (1) She didn't know what it was (she's not a child of the 80s!); and (2) she called it a "cruncher" or a "crunchie."

She cracks me up with her words because she has a phenomenal memory for them, especially big words, and she is very good at auditory discrimination, so she can repeat words I say very accurately. She also has recently taken to saying "thank you" using sign language after meeting some deaf kids in school. I love this kid!

Giving thanks

We are moving in two weeks. AAAACK! Even though we have known about this for a long time, there are still some things you can't do until the last minute. Yesterday my to-do list had nineteen items on it and no, I didn't get them all done. (Of course, I've also been guilty of putting things on my to-do list after I've actually done them, just to pad my self-confidence.) I don't even want to know how long Michael's is, as he finishes up his residency and prepares to take his oral Board exam.

But boy, do we feel happy and blessed. Especially since we got to spend a few days with Michael's family last week.

Clara and Clark chowing down at the kiddie table.

 

Random playing in the back of the truck--hey, it's tough if you're 3 feet tall to make a slam dunk without a little help.

Michael showing off his stilt skills (yes, it's a big resume booster) with stilts he used to play with when he was a kid. 

I should be packing right now, but I find I excel at using the Internet as an avoidance tactic. Okay, okay. I'm going.

Something to tickle your funny bone . . . er, your wish bone

I love getting holiday books from the library for Clara. Things to Make and Do for Thanksgiving was pretty old school, and it had some fun jokes I thought I'd share in honor of the occasion.

Q: What kind of music did the Pilgrims dance to?
A: The Plymouth Rock!

Q: What happened to the Pilgrim who was shot at by an Indian?
A: He had an arrow escape.

Q: Why did the Indian chief wear so many feathers?
A: To keep his wigwam.

Q: What did the turkey say before it was roasted?
A: Boy, am I stuffed.

We're getting old . . . in more ways than one

My fabulous husband turned 32 years old on Monday . . .

. . . but he's still pretty enthusiastic about blowing out all those candles for an old-timer. (Or is that fear?)

And although I'm four years younger, apparently I am getting older faster, or at least my brain is.

Yesterday I took out our eggs to hard-boil half a dozen. After I took the ones I needed, I couldn't find the egg carton anywhere. I looked all over the kitchen, Clara's room, the sun room (office), the living room, and then finally found them in the pan cupboard.

Duh. I should have checked there first.

EVERY thing

I am struck by 1 Thessalonians 5:18--"In every thing give thanks."

EVERY thing?  Are you sure that's not a misprint? How about, "In the things that are comfortable and convenient and pleasant, give thanks."

 

During the Thanksgiving season, it's easy for me to make cute little handprint leaves and go around each night and list off a million things I'm thankful for.

 (Apparently the objects of our gratitude depend on our age.)

What is not so easy is finding gratitude for the things I would list off as "things that aren't fair, things that tick me off, things that shouldn't be the way they are."

And yet there it is in the scriptures. In every thing give thanks.

It has been tempting over the past 4+ years of multiple miscarriages and fertility treatments to become bitter. And let's face it, I have. I've cried, I've ranted, I've raved. It is all too easy to resent the other blogs I read of my dear friends rejoicing in their pregnancies and their talented, neurotypical kids. I've often thought, "You know what? I'm just going to quit this blogging junk because I can't handle everyone else's normal, perfect lives with their normal, perfect 3+ kids. I'm just going to cut myself off from everyone because that way I wouldn't feel so much pain. So there."

How's that for melodramatic and attention-seeking?

One of the more excellent books I read this year was recommended to me by my sister-in-law. Loving What Is by Byron Katie is all about accepting reality and embracing people and yourself and situation for what it is. And by accepting reality, I certainly don't mean giving up or not trying any more to change things that you don't like.

The Alcoholics Anonymous "Serenity Prayer" really says it all:

God, grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.

So here's the deal. I can't change the fact that my beautiful, lovely, sweet daughter was diagnosed with Aspergers and ADD. I can't change the fact that we don't have more children (not that we won't keep trying).

But here's what I can do:

I can change my attitude.

1. I can be happy that I have a beautiful, sweet, intelligent, funny daughter. Period.
2. I can be happy that she has Aspergers and use it to make darn sure that we are stronger, closer, smarter, and more faithful because of--or in spite of--it. I can be grateful it's not something much, much worse.
3. I can be happy that I only have one child. GASP! What?! Be a Mormon woman who is happy to only have one? Of course I don't only want one, but I can enjoy it instead of always feeling guilty and couching my every move in the concept of, "How on earth am I going to help Clara button her pants when I have another one?" or "Well, when we have another one, then we can start more family traditions," or "When we have another child, then I'll feel like we have a real family."
4. I can choose to slow down and remind myself that life isn't all about being productive and efficient and fast. I can embrace Clara's slow, sometimes devil-may-care attitude when it comes to getting places or finishing tasks and just give myself more time to get stuff done instead of rushing her because I'm running behind.
5. I can accept the days when I'm a bad mom and enjoy the days when I'm a good one.
6. I can accept the days when Clara is a stinkpot and revel in the ones when she's a sweetheart (the latter being more frequent than the former.)
7. I can learn to SAVOR THE SWEET MOMENTS. Live in them. Allow them to be imprinted on my memory.
8. I can choose to not apologize for things I have no control over and which are not my responsibility.
9. I can choose to stop worrying about what other people think and enjoy being myself.
10. And here's a novel idea: Instead of worrying so much about my own problems, which are absolutely MINISCULE, TINY, ITSY-BITSY, PRACTICALLY NON-EXISTENT compared to the truly life-shattering trials some people face, I can look to the Savior and stop worrying about me and instead think about how I can bless other people's lives. 

Because let's face it. When you get to eat breakfast and dinner with a handsome, rock-awesome husband and darling daughter to whom you've have been sealed for eternity, what's there not to be grateful for?

Going the distance . . . going for speed

Last weekend we drove back to Atlanta to see Michael's eighteen-year-old brother, Joseph, run in the state cross country race.

 I've only run a few races personally, but I think the common denominator among all races is that runners need port-a-potties. I have to say, though, I've never seen quite this many at one time. I guess if you are fast enough to run state, you deserve to have your own stall.

Clara and two of her cousins, Abigail and Clark. Clara and Clark appear to be in the awkward smile stage. Awesome.

We were happy to spend a short time with Grandpa and Grandma, too. Clara is so lucky to have such wonderful grandparents.

Joseph came in eleventh in state. Yeah, he's pretty fast. Considering the fact that I would have run the race over twice his speed, I'm just hoping our kids have my husband's genes.

Happy birthday today, brother--we're proud of you.

Clara-ty

MICHAEL: Clara, what's it called when your pants are falling down?

CLARA: A plunger's bum.



CLARA (whispering secretively in my ear): Daddy is more fun than you are.



ME (as we kneel by her bed, trying to get her in a reverent mode to pray): Clara, who are we talking to?

CLARA: Santa.



CLARA: I'm going to be a ninja for next Halloween. Boys are ninjas . . . but girls can be ninjas, too.

ME: Oh, okay.

CLARA: What are girl ninjas called?

ME: Ninjettes.

CLARA: I'm going to be a ninjette!



ME (as we "race" to get dressed for bed): I'm going to beat you!

CLARA: No, you ain't! (which comes out like "ant")


Can you guess where we live?

Six weeks

I looked at my calendar and realized we are moving in six weeks. I'm not sure how that happened. I've got to get my time turner back from Hermione, that thief.

We drove up to Harrisonburg again last weekend. We hunted for a house. I visited another elementary school. We hunted for more houses. We found one and fell in love. We made an offer. We scoffed at the measly counter-offer and walked away. (No, we didn't counter again, long story.)


And now we're still searching, now for a rental home, but still in a good neighborhood in a good school. We'll drive up again later this month.

Never a dull moment around these parts.