The beginning

Dear Reader,
How do I begin to tell you about how the journey with an angel began? Just write.
Prior to even knowing that there was going to be a Conrad Jefferson I had promptings that there was a little person waiting to join our family. Someone excited to come down and be with us, have me for a mother and Matt for a father and Ben for a brother. I must admit I was hesitant to have another. Ben and I were such a great pair. Reading books, snuggling, napping together, going to thrift stores all over the city. I had gotten into the rhythm of three people and was quite content. However this thought kept coming to my mind more and more: someone was aching to join us. I didn't give it serious thought until our landlady said that we shouldn't wait too long before having another one. (why it was any of her business I don't know) But I remember telling her that I wouldn't. gasp. I had given weight to my thoughts. Needless to say we were going to have another.
One of my early ultrasounds I will never forget. As I lay on the table looking at the monitor, I saw a sweet little person looking back at me. As I lay looking for hands, feet and face, the technician yelled, "Did you see that?" I did. This tiny person waved. I swear it. I saw it and the technician saw it. It was proof to me that my promptings were right about someone wanting to join our family and he was so excited about it that he waved.
I drove home calling everyone I could that my boy had waved at me!! I was elated, floating on clouds, overjoyed. It was a day I will never forget. Especially because Conrad has never waved since. It was a gift to me before he was born. A wave that said so many things. Things that I will never hear from Conrad's mouth. Not in this life. I try to live everyday to be worthy of that wave and to hear his voice in the next. Because I know he has a lot to say.

Seriously?? Not again!

Dear Reader,
I feel that I must respond to some of the comments and questions I have received regarding my very first post on the question, "How Do You Do It?"
I have had several people comment that they felt they were stupid to have ever asked anyone that question. Subsequently I feel a bit of guilt for having made anyone feel stupid. So let me explain further.
Just the other day after my eldest's basketball game one of the other mom's who is also my neighbour (and I am positve is not reading this blog) asked me in an exasperated tone, "Pam! I just don't know how you do it! Four boys! There is just quadruple of everything!"
How would you respond to this? Like this? I am amazing", or maybe, "I have no idea" or maybe, "I have a nanny" or say what I said, "I don't". I wish I were amazing. I had these four little men because I wanted to. And with that comes the responsibility of caring for them. Of course it is not ever easy and is often so hard that I could crumple up on the floor at any time of pure exaustion. But I wanted them and I adore them and have made a commitment to care for them forever. And besides all that, I want to. I love them.
I really don't know how to respond to this question. Are you asking me, complimenting me or saying (this is what I hear) that you could never do it, that you are so glad you dont' have my life, it looks so exhausting, and frankly it kind of sucks!
Please someone enlighten me!
Maybe I am taking this whole thing out of context. Probably.
So! From now on I choose NOT to be bothered (well I may be a bit bothered) with this question. But if you really want to know, then stay around to hear the answer, maybe offer some support.
Thank you.

Tortillas anyone?

Dear Reader,
Do you ever feel like a referee? Or a drill sargent? And I am not talking about the ones that are revered, but the ones who are booed, yelled at, cussed at and overtly despised (At Ricks College the home team would throw tortillas at the ref's if there was a bad call made against their team). Well, I haven't had a tortilla thrown at me, yet. But I did have a lot of attitude thrown at me today. I have heard that if your children do not talk back to you or question e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. you do or ask them to do you are doing something right. Well I must have been doing a whole lot of right today because I had a lot of 'tortillas' thrown my way.
It all started at the beginning of the week when I grounded my boys from ALL media (not that they partake of it a lot... but enough to have it sting) They were such grumps about doing anything I asked them to do that I had to do something-so why not take away a favourite passtime. After I had had enough of their complaints I had them come into my room and talk it out. We started with a prayer, because we all know I need the help.
We made a plan. 'Lyman Family Expectaions' I let the kids take the lead on what they thought should be expected of them. It was so cute as they each took turns raising their hands and giving their answers (it took some of my anger away to see them take our meeting so seriously). Some of my favourites were, Don't break stuff, Don't lie, Tell the Truth. Then it was my turn, 'Lyman Parents' Expectations'. Fairly simple. I just want them to, as soon as they walk thru the door to hang up coats and backpacks and put their shoes away (Is that so much to ask? Apparently it is). They agreed, with the stipulation that if they had to rush to the bathroom they could do that first. The other main one was coming when you are called. This is HUGE in our family, as they come immediatly when dad calls but not when I call. I really h.a.t.e. that. So we had to set up rules and sub rules. So the first call is really a two minute warning, to finish up whatever you are doing. Second call is to come immediately or miss out on dessert, third call is instant timeout and fourth call is grounding. They made up the all the sub rules except for the second call.
But alas rules must be enforced. So I have become a drill sargent calling out calling for my cadetst o fall into line. Nevertheless there has been a lot of calling and warnings and pounding of feet on stairs as boys try to beat the no dessert call.
It is so hard to keep it up! Then I caught one of my boys in a blatant lie. Arghh! Anyway the day is finally over and a fresh start awaits me tomorrow. Wish me luck.
Good night dear reader.

Dear Reader,
While I am writing this I am listening to my dear angel cry his eyes and heart out. I have done everything that I can to comfort him: changed him, snuggled him, changed his movie (several times) fixed his pillows, fixed his blankets, talked with him and still he cries. What do you do for a child who can't tell you what they need? It breaks my heart. Plus his favourite person (his dad) is out of town. He may know what to do. Is it bad that I am now spent trying to figure it out, and am just going to let him cry it out? Matt would probably say that we have done everything that we can, let's let him figure it out. But it is not that easy is it?

It is not all bad news tonight however! A prolific doctor in the Angelman community, Edwin Weeber, Ph.D. has begun to recruit participants in a clinical trial at the University of South Florida. It is called The Minocycline in the Treatment of Angelman Syndrome Clinical Trial. It is a trial of a drug that may be a treatment for Angelman Syndrome. Please go here for more information www.CureAngelman.org.
I would love for those of you that read about the trial to give me your thoughts.
Thank you.

Dear Reader,

Adaptive, special, ABA, intervention, manipulatives, assistive, Sens-Aura, multi-sensory, Gotalk, standers, Snoezellen, Life Skills Classes, medically fragile, non-verbal, Trileptal, in-home support, respite, sensory, Dycem, service coordinators, utensil hand clips, CIIS and BigMac buttons are all words and terms that have become part of my new vocabulary. Maybe I never would have become acquainted with any of these terms if it hadn't been for Conrad. Sometimes I think that would be okay. It can be so wearying having to figure out how to adapt every single thing that has to do with Conrad's world, that I could either scream or curl up in a ball and cry my eyes out. Today I feel like crying my eyes out.