Who Are You?

No, really...

Just like Blue Caterpillar asks Alice...

It's not that I NEED to know, as much as a curiosity.  Since adding a few page tabs at the top and the blog's web address to my signature on a few boards I am a part of I have seen "traffic" significantly increase from a month ago. 

Which logically leads me to believe there are far more of you reading, whether you are a once-in-a-blue-moon reader, a semi-regular lurker, or an actual "follower"-Who are you?  Do you have a connection to Down syndrome?  Are you finding my from BBC or perhaps from another blog and find it easier to link from there than to "follow".  Or maybe I am in your google reader, in which case, I have no idea.

Come out, come out, wherever you are!!!



Sweet November

Now that Halloween is over and November has begun, the beginning of crazy season is officially upon us.  No more leisurely trips to Toys 'R Us without the maddening Christmas crowds fighting over the three Kinect Xbox consoles the store may or may not have, along with all the rest of this season's hottest toys, gadgets, and gizmos. 

Gone are the browns and oranges and reds of "fall", instead, replaced with reds and greens of Yuletide joy.  Last time I checked Thanksgiving was an official American holiday, completed with the same corn husks and hay bales and pumpkins sans jack-o-lanterns of Halloween, but hey, if you are in retail, jumping right to Christmas is the "in" thing. 

I refuse to let go of my November.  My AUTUMN November.  My decorations will stay orange and brown and red until our plane returns from sunny Florida and the calendar changes to December 1.  Maybe by then I will be ready to give up my sweet November. 

In other news, Cameran is giving Tigger (you know, Winnie-the-Poo's annoyingly energetic striped feline friend?) a run for his money.  She has been (for about a week) bouncing around as a mode of transporation.  She also enjoys hurtling herself forward to get into "crawl", as opposed to a graceful descent, but hey, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and I am completely owning my complete and utter lack of grace and coordination.  Way to go Cami.

I feel like November is the month.  She pulls to a stand by readily grabbing onto Ryan's or my hands, and then proceeds to wiggle and pivot and check things out.  She will stand against the sofa for extended periods of time before bending her knees and collapsing. And I know that she should be crawling or army crawling or something like that, but dammit, that girl hates the four-point (unless it's her idea, in which case she looks like a sprinter ready to leave her block at the start of the race but then never bothers leaving the block).

Did I mention round 2?  Of glasses that is.  Tomorrow we will embark on our round two journey to procure glasses for little Einstein.  Apparently her eyes are improving, but there is astigmatism of the right eye, and so she does not begin to aggressively favor the other eye to compensate, the doc. wants her to "try out" a newer prescription in hopes of balancing out both eyes.  Of course her original glasses that she wore for all of four months prior to her seizure diagnosis don't fit and are the wrong prescription anyway.

Merry Christmas, Cameran.

Insomniac

Not me.


Not Ryan...


Not the dogs...


CAMERAN!!!!!!!!!!!!! 








Note to Cameran:  Please know that even though your seizure meds make you a bit nutty, it is OKAY to sleep for more than five hours at night. 


Not only that, it is okay to fall asleep BEFORE midnight. 


It is okay to sleep in past the first glimpse of sunrise. 


And, it is okay to take more than one half hour nap a day.

Love, Mommy and Daddy








Sheesh.  Don't you know that you're still a baby, even though you're on 'roids???


Oh, and Happy 4th of July to all.

It's a Jungle In Here

Cameran's latest obsession (when she is not rubbing her hands or head) is her obnoxious cute lil jungle toy. 

I'm a great big el-e-phant

Stomping here

Stomping there

I'm a big and tall giraffe

Standing so high
I'm touching the sky

I'm a tiny little penguin
Wobbling here
Wobbling there

I'm a very friendly parrot

Chatting out loud

For all to here

Listen to the music and get on your feet

Move like the animals

Stomp your feet

Waddle like a penguin

Stretch up tall--like a giraffe

Dance like a monkey

And laugh, laugh, laugh.

Hoarders

You know the cable channel, "A & E"?  Along with playing repeats of my favorite show, Criminal Minds, they also have shows about people with addictions.  You know, drugs, alcohol, shopping, gambling, OCD, other compulsions, and hoarding.  Something like pack-ratism to the 1,000,000th degree. 
I feel kinda bad for these 70-80 year olds who have some sort of mental instability that makes them not throw ANYTHING away for years upon years, and then they cry and have meltdowns when A & E comes dashing in offering counseling in exchange for a clutter free fresh start.

Then there are the cat ladies.  They are just nasty.  Poop and pee all throughout the house.  G-R-O-S-S.

What am I getting at you wonder?  Let's just say that Ryan isn't too far off the mark when he says that I am a beginning hoarder.  I for some reason find a reason to save things.  Clothes that are a few sizes too small that I might "someday" wear again.  Happy Meal toys that Cameran might play with once she is over age three.  Cards. Like all cards that I have ever gotten.  It goes on and on.

Anyway, we are getting new shelving for our walk-in closet to make our bedroom less cluttered and more organized.  The in-between process involved moving piles and piles of clothes and whatchamacallits onto the bed, into the baby's room, into the computer room and all over our bedroom floor.  Needless to say it looks like an upstairs explosion.  We actually had to sleep downstairs on the sofa and recliner the first night because the closet wasn't finished and the bed was covered in no less than a three foot tall pile o'clothes. 

Fast forward to the next day and the bed got cleared off.  Now it's time to clear the rest, and do it correctly the first time.  Piles o' crap: Be gone!