Seven Quick Takes of Things that Annoy Me, but Also Why I'm Still Happy in Italics (Run-on Titles FTW!)

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"They are the sweetest people!"
This sentence has been like nails on a chalkboard to me lately, and honestly, given that it is said with generosity and appreciation for the value of people who have Down syndrome, I couldn't understand why. Then I read something where the author underlined that sometimes this can dismiss the humanity of a person with Down syndrome. "They" can be difficult, grouchy, uncooperative and down right nasty sometimes. Just like all of us. It's all those dimensions, the bad and the good, that make us fully human. Reducing a group of people to "sweetness" is stereotyping, and stereotyping discounts the wonderful intricate differences in the individual. But it's meant kindly, and I pray to God that I can accept those words graciously, even when Mariana is being a pill and a half.

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Mariana.
Yup, Princess is getting on my nerves this week. It's the teething, the uncooperative behavior, the fury at not getting a bottle any longer.  She's over me, you guys, and frankly, I'm over her. She also has been "picking" Scott over me when he gets home from work, which is not allowed. I get cranky, sweaty, ticked-off baby, and he gets cuddle-bug lover baby. But she can drink from that Cip-Kup and she is so very mobile and she's trying really hard to climb the steps. She's grown by leaps and bounds this week and I'm so happy to see this progress!

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Therapy evaluations.
If you have a prenatal diagnosis, or just had a baby with Down syndrome, get a drink. Let's talk. Evaluations are like that dream that you show up for your SAT naked. The therapist starts asking you questions and you are all, "No. Wait, she kind of does this, but it's not really that, um, I don't know!" Also they ask completely ridiculous things like, "Does she use a spoon and fork?"  and you, being a rational person who doesn't want to change your child's clothes and mop the floor every thirty seconds, panic and begin to believe your child's delays are because you are too selfish to spend your days cleaning up between meals. This week Mariana's speech therapist asked a bunch of questions that I answered, "No." and my husband answered, "Yes." I mean, it's like we don't live under the same roof or something. We both answered that she doesn't feed us or share food, or display any caring rituals on another person, but she began doing just that two days ago. Again, it's like winning the mega millions, without all the cash and long-lost relatives.

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The end of the school year. Okay, it doesn't help that Molly broke her arm, or that they do a "stepping up" ceremony for Kindergarten. This is a practice I abhor and object. These babies accomplished learning their letters and rudimentary math. They do not need to be celebrated while my four year old hangs upside down from the pew and my one year old chews on my hair and face. Also, are they drunk at school? A talent show the second-to-last day? That everyone makes regardless of talent? They should make the program say School "Talent" Show. And then put a footnote that "talent" can mean that this child's talent is that he/she has zero ability for self assessment. Except my kid. Her talent is overcoming a ridiculous amount of stage fright that her non-psychologist mother would deem a phobia. I couldn't be more proud of her for going up there if she could play Vivaldi's Four Seasons flawlessly. Instead she's playing a blues song on her guitar, which makes her the coolest child alive.

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Molly's broken arm. Oh, yes, she broke her arm playing in the courtyard after mass. For two years we've been warning our children about running around there. For two years we've told them they would fall and crack their head open. Molly, however, fell and broke her arm. She was supposed to get an OT evaluation this week as well. I mean, really. She's been in a remarkable good humor about it, even though she just learned to ride a two-wheeler and can't do that with a cast. Also, she writes decently with her left hand.

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Mosquitoes. Seriously, Florida wildlife is the worst. Oh sure, there are dolphins and great horned owls and bats that eat mosquitoes. The baby has had four bites on her face, Molly killed on in mass after it bit her several times, and my arms look as though I have chicken pox. I hate these blood suckers and do not know what they add to the environment other than being a food source for more important animals. I do not have anything nice to add at all. Stupid mosquitoes.

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Movies. Ugh, most of them are terrible! (Note, I am not talking superhero or comic book movies, which are meant as mindless entertainment.)Why oh why is there such an influx of crap over decent art. Sorry friends, but Django Unchained was stupid, as was Cloud Atlas and Looper. And can we dispense with the zombie apocalypse stuff? My distaste for such things puts me squarely at odds with my peers, and I don't like it. Then again, Silver Linings Playbook.

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