Dear Doc

Dear Doc -

Once upon a time there was a beautiful little girl.  She was very special but, as in all fairy tales, she was given certain challenges.  As soon as she was born she was whisked off to the first doctor, but he reached deep inside her heart and made it strong.  His magic would allow the girl to live a long life and run fast. The girl's parents were well pleased.

Her parents then took her to the eye doctor so she could see all the flowers and story books.  They took her to an ear doctor so she could hear her family laugh and the dogs bark.  There were other people for her feet and still others for her neck - courtiers abounded.

But some of these doctors gave her shots and stuck needles in her arms.  Sometimes she would visit a doctor, fall asleep, and wake up feeling sick in a different place.  That was scary.  One time the little girl was very, very ill and stayed in a hospital where they had the temerity to vacuum her nose like a peasant.  Once they actually held her trying to get pictures!  Audacious paparazzi!

The girl did not care for these gross invasions of personal space.  Their paltry compensation - stickers! ice cream! - was beneath her and she scorned it all.  (Well, maybe not the ice cream but it was wildly insufficient.)

The girl began to believe her parents had abdicated their duties.  She ignored their entreaties and became an expert at spotting and eluding anyone with medical training.  If cornered, she would roar like a dragon and fight back.  Hard.

Though she was impressively fierce, this made her parents sad.  They loved her very much and wanted her to have all the flowers and laughter.  They believed these alchemists could help, but they wanted her to be happy too.  Confusion and darkness spread across the land.  

But then the girl met you, Doc.  She watched you coax reluctant patients into treatment.  She saw you check their ears, check their eyes, and find out what was going on.  She saw how much you cared and how hard you worked to help.  She watched you reset limbs, excise debris, and patch tears.  She saw how happy your patients were by the end of each episode.

Because of you, the girl decided to give the doctors another chance.  Perhaps not aallll of them were evil trolls, after all?  She started bringing you with her to appointments for a second opinion.  

Like a food taster of old, you would gallantly test the equipment on her behalf.  

You submitted to exams to evaluate the physician's technique.  Charlatans who failed to respect or recognize their peer were quickly dispatched. 

Because of you, the girl was properly treated, with deference and every courtesy.  Because of you, the girl's parents were assured she was given every advantage.  Peace was restored and both the girl and the parents were pleased.  

Thank you, Doc McStuffins.  

Thank you.  

The Daily Grind

...continues.  I was thisclose to being caught up when my co-worker quit this week. *sigh*  
Work-life balance is a myth. 

However, for pure entertainment purposes, I have four post-ettes ripped almost right from the headlines ...of that month old paper you haven't recycled yet.  I tell ya, it's almost just like CNN over here. 

Angelina Jolie gets a double mastectomy
This sparked quite a bit of conversation online but, although we have lots of other issues, breast cancer hasn't made an appearance in my near family.  Of course Gigi only had boys and my mom is an only child so my statistical group might be a little skewed, but let's not quibble.  So about a month ago I went to see my ob-gyn because the girls were sore, aching all the way down to the muscle and getting worse.  He said...      (*dramatic pause*)

I SHOULD DRINK LESS COFFEE.

(*sob*)
I'm not trying to make light of this and I know I should be grateful it's not anything real, but please, please, please don't take away my coffee.  Please?

Parents sue over their son's photo
I've thought off & on about the risks of putting my girl's picture out into the world but this space is tiny enough to avoid the creeps' radars and haven't done anything about it.  But I don't let the schools use or publish either kids' photo.  Because I am a hypocrite.  Of which I was again reminded when The Girl's daycare primary called a couple weeks ago to ask if I wanted her included in the end of year video.  I said no but thanked them for asking - I'm sure they were just as worried I'd flip out over the exclusion as the potential liability for breaching the 'no photo' form.  It's got to be tough for them to navigate a bunch of ferociously overly-sensitive parents.  Meanwhile I'm on a self imposed photo blog ban till I get this watermarking thing figured out.  Time to follow my own obscure, conflicting, Kafka-like rules. 

This post by a huge NDSS fundraiser, telling them off.
Unlike the NDSS, our local group’s new president has taken the ‘advocacy’ in their mission statement to heart and has been emailing updates on the Robert Ethan Saylor case, calls to contact state congressmen to preserve early intervention funding, and federal Reps on the seclusion/restraint bill.  Weirdly I can push, bully, and charm people on the phone all day at work without qualm, but I hate-hate-hate talking to anyone at home.  Cable people and babysitters are solely Matt’s responsibility.  But goaded into action by my local group, I summoned up all my emotional reserves and made whopping 1 minute phone calls to each of my Reps’ snarky staffers.  And then I signed up for this year’s Step Up walk [ours is a “Step Up,” not a Buddy Walk, so they don’t have to kick back any of their money to the NDSS] because I can’t complain about the national groups' colossal failures without supporting my group when it’s doing it right.  I’m not that much of a hypocrite.

Although I gave my friends and family exactly two weeks notice and of course everyone is booked. *sigh*  Baby steps, people, baby steps.

Manhattan women buy disability guides
I know you all heard about this, but it reminded me I never wrote about our last trip to Disney in January.  Sadly it will likely be literally the LAST trip, because just after we came home Disney abruptly killed our travel industry discount, both cars now need timing belts (and happy car fairy dust), and we (surprise!) didn't withhold nearly enough money last year for the IRS.  Boo.

Oh, wait...  So if we stand in line with the nice lady from New York and her family she'd pay for our trip?  We wouldn't have to talk to her, or anything, would we?  Hmmm.  

I'm joking!  (kind of.  maybe.  depends on the offer - what's our souvenir allowance?)

We were there to run Disney's half marathon but I brilliantly took the kids to the park the day before in awful, terrible, no good, very bad shoes.  My feet hurt by the end of the day and they hurt worse the next morning, right before I was supposed to run 13 miles on them.  I was lucky though, because I ran the whole way with this nice lady here and it was the first time I've been able to talk and run at the same time.  It was a personal worst, as far as time goes, and I whimpered for days after like I was walking on broken glass, but I didn't think you could have that much fun running.  It was awesome. 

(ms. see-tee-via!)

There were fireworks!  

Every race needs fireworks.

At one point in the park I was holding The Girl while Matt and The Boy were off procuring provisions.  A guy approached us, said my girl was gorgeous (of course!), and to dispel the potential creepiness, he waved over at his family, including an older boy with Ds, they waved back, and we all chuckled a bit.  Then he palmed his special needs pass like it was hot watch and asked if I knew what it was.  Then I really laughed and showed him ours.  Who knew?  There really IS a secret club card.  

I truly hope that the socialite doesn't screw it up for everyone else.  The first time we went I felt a little guilty because The Girl wasn't any more of a pill than any other 3 year old, but there's no way my almost-5 year old tornado could stand in line for an hour or two.  Not a chance.  Even the couple times the special needs line was long and we had to wait were not great - she's too big to hold for long, yelled to get out of her stroller, and kept trying to bolt thru the crowds.  I suppose this would be more persuasive for Disney if I didn't preempt my story by saying we were too poor to visit but we'll get back - one way or another!

Disney, III

My mother in law asked us to take a family picture while we were at Disney so she could use it in her Christmas cards this year.  This is why that was a terrible idea.  (Sorry, D.)

Disney, II

These were taken in the ice cream parlor.  If there is a happiest place, in the happiest place on earth, then this surely is the spot.  I have a hard time getting shots in focus of this girl's grin, because she's usually moving at 110mph and I have a terrible camera, but I think these turned out ok (if you ignore the lighting and the girl in the background on the phone waiting impatiently for our table). 

Aunt Mary!!

When I was little, Gigi put together a photo album for me of my first trip to Disneyland.  I remember there was a picture of me out by the front gate, one of me riding Dumbo, and one in the teacups.  I wish I knew where that album was now!

Did I mention how much my girl dug the rides?  She was scared on the first 2-3, but by Dumbo and the Teacups (maybe #5-6?) she was whheeee-ing and laughing at everything.

My son apparently inherited my picture taking face too.  Sorry, kid.

...and then his dad's genes kick in:

All right, already! Disney, Part I of XXVI

Aunt Mary's 300+ Disney pictures are a little intimidating, but at Gigi's request, I'll get to it.  These are still mine - There aren't nearly as many.

Along the way I'll probably chat about completely unrelated bits of randomness.  Because my tummy is still full, 4 days after Thanksgiving, and it's hard to concentrate.

We were going to Disney on Thursday but did the character dinner the night before at the hotel.  My son?  Surprisingly into it.  Autograph book and everything.  My daughter?  NOT.AT.ALL.  The mere sight of 6' tall furry beasts had her hiding her face in one hand and shooing them off with the other.  Except for the princesses - she luvvved the princesses.  Except I was off stuffing my face at the (surprisingly good) buffet so wasn't manning the camera.  Girl/princess shots are pretty blurry.  Just swap kids in your imagination. 

This girl's freakishly smooth skin creeps me out.  I always assumed they wore an inch of pancake make up but not so much.  Huh. 

Side story:  I worked one summer at EuroDisney, right when they opened.  I was the sub-junior hostess so had NO responsibility other than to lead people to their tables.  I was not allowed to decide where to seat them, nor count out the necessary number of menus, nor take their drink orders... yet I was paid (for me, at 20) a BUNCH of cash.  Extrapolate that into the European debt crisis.  Anyway, Cinderella would take breaks in our back room - her 3' high wig off & in the chair next to her, feet up, and a cigarette dangling out of her mouth. Kind of tarnished the magic. 

I LOVE topiary.  Having a garden with massive whimsical animals is on my bucket list.  Just to foster the childrens' imagination, of course.  Having a garden that didn't look like it was reverting to prairie would be a small first step.  Maybe in time for my grandkids? 

 Love this picture of her.

More large furry animals.  My daughter was safely ensconced in her stroller.  

She thought Autotopia was the coolest thing ever.  My back still hasn't recovered.  

31 for what?

We're back!  I briefly thought about stretching my 31 for 21 posts into November with the argument that as our kids will eventually get there in their own time, so too, will I.  But that was too nauseatingly sweet so I'll just acknowledge defeat and shuffle on.

SOOOO so so much to share.  To make this readable, I'll break it up but here are the highlights:  my three long time readers will recall previous trips back to Cali were disasters - 12+ hours in the airport terminal disasters [painfully chronicled here, here, & here].  This time Matt flew with us both ways and did we have to wait?  Did we have to share a row with random strangers?  Did ANYTHING go wrong?  No, no, and no.  Both flights in & out were half empty and my daughter even slept on the way home.  Shocking luck.  Matt takes full credit for the universe's goodwill and out of gratitude I'm stifling the little bit of hate I feel toward him because of it.

Also, we did go to Disney and the special access pass was well, well worth it.  It was a little weird sometimes, stepping in front of everyone else waiting with their impatient children, but I managed to stifle the guilt because wheee! Rides!  My girl did AWESOME.  The first two (very kiddie-level) rides terrified her & I steeled myself for a long day but she then decided the stars in Peter Pan might be a leettle bit pretty, so she let go of my neck and looked around.  We went on Dumbo next and she smiled at the elephants and the breeze.  She loved every single ride to follow - giggling and "whee-ing" thru even the Haunted House and Autopia. 

In requesting the special access pass, the gal ("cast member"?) asked "What my concerns were."  That stumped me for a minute.  My concerns?  Are endless.  I assume you're asking about my concerns for today?  You mean apart from having to wait in line holding a wiggly 35# child who hasn't yet grasped the finer points of delayed gratification?  In fairness, I've thought about it since and couldn't come up with a better way of asking - "What's wrong with your kid" might rub a few the wrong way. 

Fabulous Aunt Mary came to Disney with us and took over 300 pictures with her fancy camera - steel yourself, will start working them in shortly.  Related:  her photos and the photos my SIL sent today from our anniversary night out, both taken with very very nice SLRs, make me look about 20 years older than necessary.  I believe the maximum megapixel count has now been reached and they will soon start marketing "fuzzier" cameras for the over 35 crowd.  Isn't there a tech-y/economic term for exceeding human tolerances?  I'll concede my "normal" might consist solely of sleep-deprived, not-yet-caffeinated, pre-dawn lipstick applications in my rear view mirror but there will nonetheless be Picture Culling prior to posting.  The underwater blue light in the Finding Nemo Submarine was particularly horrific.

To tide you over in the meantime, here are a couple from my softer, gentler, not as fancy camera: 

ye olde Ice Cream Buzz

Kiddie crack

The e'er Fabulous, Auntie M.

21/31 for 21 Disney Query

This shouldn't count as a post, but I'm 8 posts behind in my 31 for 21 quest so what the heck.

Has anyone ever sought out a Special Access pass at Disney?  Their website addresses wheelchairs, sight & hearing straight on and then get a little vague about other stuff – mostly sensory issues presumably for kids with autism.  What about Down syndrome? 

One place recommended a doctor's note when, “guests' challenge might not be readily apparent…. The challenges of a Down syndrome may be more quickly ascertainable than those with autism.”  It was gently said, but there you go – “quickly ascertainable”.  Yeah.

So not diving into the disability pageant.  But anyway…

I get that Disney might be a minefield for any kid with sensory issues, that's not the point.  Here’s my moral dilemma:  I don’t think my girl has any hard core sensory issues.  Does she need to have sensory issues too, in order to get a pass?  Isn't the Ds enough, on its on?  But then again, I’m not sure Disney would be harder for her than any other 3 year old.  We haven't yet tried her in that tornado of long dull lines followed by brief thrills, sugar highs, sugar crashes, and crowds, all the while being stalked by giant stuffed creatures [doesn’t this sound like FUN?].  What's the "typical" baseline for an over-stimulated, over-tired 3 year old?  By how much do we have to deviate? 

Fact is, there are some things, no matter HOW "well" she ends up doing, that will be more challenging – harder – and that she might miss out on.  [I could tiptoe around that & add a bunch of qualifiers & downplay the “mainstream” experience but this was supposed to be a quick post & I’m rambling so will just cut to the chase].

So if there’s one place, the happiest place, that actually let’s her take advantage of that 47th and gives her some extra special attention and love, then why not?  Why not cut her time in line and squeeze as many thrills out of the day as she can?  Can we do this without diving into the swamp of disability entitlement?
I’m thinking yes. 
And I’m wondering just how magical that pass is.