Monday, April 28, 2014

Quick Gary...Call My Therapist!!!

I have been out of high school for 28 years and I thought that (after years of therapy) I had finally gotten over the trauma of being a teenager but then I chaperoned for our church's prom...on purpose.  I volunteered to subject myself to a high school dance.   I admit, I thought I could deal with it.  I have a husband now.  He loves me (he even likes me!)  I don't have to try to flirt or look prettier than all of the other pretty girls in the room.  So really!  How bad could it be?!

First off, let me tell you...we have some extremely talented people in our church that turned a gymnasium into an Old Hollywood ballroom complete with a red carpet entrance, lit marquee, flash-lighting paparazzi, cheering fans, a gold chandelier, sparkling lights, the "Hollywood" letters, and lots of glitz and glamour.  I wish I had taken pictures but you'll just have to use your imagination.

Oh...I do have pictures of Gary and I before prom.  You want to see those...right?!  These three pictures help me to understand why my chiropractor blurts out (every time I see him) "YOU HAVE THE WORST POSTURE!!!"  Really, Shanon...stand up straight!!!




Also, I had the hardest time picking out something to wear.  Last time I went to prom, taffeta was the fabric of choice, puffy was the sleeve of choice, and peach was the color of choice.  Oh...you want to see a picture?  Okay...but I'll warn you, it could be more taffeta than a person ever wants to see.  Remember...the puffier and peachier, the better!!


Oh, and I had a lot less wrinkles, was 20+ pounds lighter, and I hadn't had 5 babies yet.  Babies are cute and fun but they don't do good things to a girl's figure.

Gary's mom called in the middle of our photo session so I checked to see how we looked so far.


Gary kept on talking, so I had to get a little annoyed.


Okay...back to the photo shoot.  Maybe if you just take us from the waist up, it will look okay.



Try standing up straighter.


Try smiling bigger.


"Sorry Mom, that's the best I can do...I'm not a miracle worker!" (she didn't really say that, but I could tell that's what she was thinking.)


So, why do I need Gary to call my therapist?  Well, we got to prom and were assigned the gym for the first hour.  There was this girl standing all by herself.  She was off to the side, kind of hidden away by the room divider, dancing a bit to the music and people would walk by but no one was talking to her.  As I stood there feeling awkward for her, I told Gary that this was bringing back memories of being a teenager {shudder} and I might need extra therapy.

Well, God must really love me because guess what?!  My therapist (You aren't surprised I have a therapist, are you?  I didn't think so.) walked by!  What are the odds?!  So, Gary told her that I was having high school flashbacks and she told me that I was having perfectly normal PTSD feelings and just breathe deeply.  Haha....not really (the breathe deeply or PTSD part...my therapist really did stop and talk to us for several minutes.  She was feeling the same sad feelings for the girl standing all alone and was having her own flashbacks of an awkward prom with a blind date that was an exchange student who spoke no English.  She won the prize for the most traumatic prom story.)

The girl eventually found her friends and danced with them all night, we accepted the fact that we are old and don't have the energy to dance to a whole fast song (did you know that they STILL play "Footloose" at dances but now they have a line dance that they do and it involves a lot of jumping.  It made me tired just watching it!) and boys STILL don't ask girls to dance!

At the end of the night, we found a couple of chairs to sit in to rest our weary feet.  We watched this girl walk by, kind of swaying and twirling to the slow song and this boy walked right behind her and I thought for sure he was going to ask her to dance but he just made small talk for a split second and then sat down at the table TO PLAY CARDS!!  It took all that I had to not stand up and shake him and say "YOU ARE AT PROM...ASK HER TO DANCE!!!"

*Breathe deeply, Shanon....you are just having a flashback...go eat some chocolate!!*

We actually had a very nice evening.  It was fun to hang out with the young whippersnappers for a night but I would not go back to being a teenager even if someone offered me all the money in the world.  How did we survive that?!

Thank goodness for therapists!!

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Mirror, Mirror by Noah

Hi, I'm Noah and my mom and dad are up to something. 
 
They shipped me off to a stranger's house so that I could entertain this guy.  He kept looking at me and every time I smiled back, he would say "He loves me, Mom!" which is fine, but I just wanted to play with my pinwheel!!
 

As you well know, it is exhausting to entertain...so many responsibilities...so I finally had to resort to drastic measures or else I would not get a moment's peace!!  I pulled out my mirror.  The experts say that kids with Down Syndrome like looking at themselves.
 
 







I guess the experts are right.  I sure am glad my mom packed my mirror in my diaper bag!
 
Speaking of packing...while I was entertaining, they packed all my stuff in boxes!!
 
Something's up...I just know it!


Monday, April 7, 2014

How to gross out your family (and possibly a few friends) with very little effort...

Carson went in to go potty first thing this morning and I could just tell by the sound of things that there would be a bit of a mess to clean up on the floor.  Sometimes, little boys just have a hard time controlling where the stream goes and little boys with Down Syndrome have an even harder time of it.  TMI?!

I was sitting on the stairs by the bathroom and looked up just as Carson closed the bathroom door because you know, he likes to have his privacy.  He does this every morning.  I was a little curious why he needed his privacy since he was already finished so I opened the door and peeked in to see what he was up to.  There he was, my responsible little boy, doing his best to wipe up his mess off the floor with the clean hand towel and at that moment it just kind of hit me what he has been doing most mornings.  He has been cleaning up his mess with the hand towel and then hanging it back up so that the next person that uses the bathroom will have a nice, freshly hung hand towel to dry their clean hands on.

When everyone got back from church, I told my family...all of whom use that bathroom and wash their hands quite frequently...what I had discovered that morning.  They all had the same response (in unison, I might add)...."EWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!  I've dried my hands on those towels!!"  For some reason they have all been going in the kitchen to dry their hands today. 

Maybe I should put some Cheerios in the toilet and have Carson do some target practice.