That time of year. Spring? No IEP meetings.

Shea is almost 6. This post is not about his birthday although we will be thinking of that quite soon.

6 is when the public schools crunch each kid with an IEP through all the developmental tests again plus reading, writing and math. They did the whole gambit of testing when he was three and now they will do it again for 6. Boy. Have we learned a thing or two since then.

Every year there is a mandatory IEP meeting near your child's birthday. Incidentally, a parent can request an IEP meeting whenever they want. Anytime you feel you need to share something important with your child's team, you can request a meeting.

But this year it is different. He is 6!

This morning we had the 1st of 3 meetings that will all happen within the next 6 weeks. It was the "intake" meeting asking us what we wanted to focus on, etc. General impressions, comments.

The 2nd will be after all the battery of tests are done and they will go over all the results. That was the one 3 years ago, where they pointed to a chart to show that Shea landed "less than average intelligence" for one of the test. Ugh.

The 3rd will be the IEP meeting that formally puts into writing everything we've decided.

Whew... Epic. No wonder they only do it every 3 years.

It was a lively meeting and several thoughts popped into my brain to share.

Like scheduling. They keep on suggesting 8:00 AM for these meetings! But Shea doesn't go to school until 9:00. So, how are both parents supposed to go to the meeting? The theory being that for teachers to be involved it has to be before school.

I think we all remember the main lesson I got out of doing this whole thing when Shea was 3. Never go to the meetings alone!

So, I gently insisted that 8:00 AM meeting isn't going to work. I suggested maybe it wasn't that important to have the teacher in the room with us at the same time as long as his case worker was there.

Sure enough. We worked around it. The teachers met early and then Shea's case worker and the psychologist met both Jake and I at 9:00.

But now they want to do the 2nd meeting at 8:00 again! Sorry, same answer. How many times do I have to explain this? I guess I don't blame them for asking but "hello?".

I did offer to do it after school and have Molly watch Shea. They probably won't like that but I don't really care! They can figure it out.

Another weird thing, sort of good I guess, that came up is the Kindergarten teacher thinks Shea may be ready for 1st grade next year.

Just as a reminder: the plan was to do another round of full day Kindergarten next year. This year was just a try-out and I was relieved to know that he was going to get another year to work on expressive language and social stuff, etc.

But now they say that there may not be full day Kindergarten next year. So they are sort of encouraging us to think about that but I have mixed feelings.

On one hand I am happy that Shea appears to be at grade level for academics and that the teacher sees him that way. Although all this upcoming testing will really help determine if he really is.

Yet his social skills and some behavioral stuff continue to come into play regularly. I am nervous about sending him off where so much more is going to be expected of him. Worried that he won't be able to succeed, that he will get lost in the shuffle

And, there lies my other concern, maybe I am the one that is holding him back. Maybe we need to push him a bit more, set the bar higher. I mean, so far it has worked out well this year.

Earlier than expected he could be part of the multi-age 1, 2, 3rd program that Molly went through. I know all the teachers. I love the program; it is very flexible and creative. Simply wonderful, in fact. I know the exact teacher. He would be hanging with the big kids and emulating up.

So, we are chewing on big things tonight and for the next few weeks. But I don't have to make it alone. I immediately sent off the news to his OT, SLP for comment with good observations and excellent points coming in as I write.

Oh, and another thing; the teachers say he raises his hand repeatedly in class to answer questions!

Close calls

It never fails to amaze me how a split second can and does change everything. One minute you are trotting along happily through life and BOOM! something happens to make it all different. Everything changes; sometimes just for a moment, sometimes for the rest of your days.

The human body is a frail thing; soft mushy tissue, delicate bones, flimsy muscles. Really no match for much of what life tosses at us. Luck is the trump card we hold close to the vest, jealously guarding it for just when you might need it most.

If you are lucky, which apparently I am, you get a strong stiff whiff of "what if?" and can try to resume your regularly scheduled existence.

It happened just like that over the weekend.

The kids and I were out and about on rainy, drippy typical Saturday in the NW. Popped into the tea shop for some refreshment and even enjoyed it. The kids didn't bicker much, Molly ran into one of her pals. Shea had a new little car to drive around the tabletop. All was right with the world.

After that we went to our favorite book store whose praises have been sung on my blog before.

Congratulations were in order as they may be one of the only small businesses in America doing so well they are able to expand their space during this blasted recession. The unveiling was close. The new room was painted with new wooden bookshelves lining the walls just waiting for the books that would soon fill them.

Kids being kids were farting around on the floor, rolling like puppies and actually not being too obnoxious. I poked around looking for something to leap out at me from the shelves and yell, "Read me!"

When I heard one of the nearby father's say, "Hey! Hey! HEY!!!!!" I looked up and one of the bookcases was not secured to the wall and was tipping forward and was heading for Shea. He was in the direct path and I could see one of the shelves headed straight for the base of Shea's scull.

The father who yelled and I raced across the room and caught the shelf with only about a second or two to spare. I really don't even know how long it took as time seemed to go into slow motion.

Shea was oblivious, he hadn't seen what was coming. Most of the other shoppers were oblivious too.

The father and I just looked at each other quite dazed. I thanked him as I was trying to get my breathing back to normal. My heart was beating fast as I tried to recover from the extra large squirt of adrenalin.

All I could do was herd by brood out of the store still visably shaken with a pounding heart. The image of that bookcase coming down on Shea is etched in my memory and will be there for a long time.

Then the "What ifs?" started rolling. If we hadn't gotten there in time. If that father hadn't been there to help me. If that bookcase squarely fell on Shea's head. If the local EMTs would've been able to handle it. If we would have been helicopter lifted to the city. If we would have spent the weekend, week, month at the hospital. If, if, if. The horrific possibilities are still swirling around my head.

When life slips you a free card like that, it is wise to acknowledge it. I did and do. I am quite aware of how close that was and how we squeaked through.

May we all be so lucky next time.

Blog guilt defined

Noun; the act of deep remorse for not updating your blog more often due to life, taxes, clients and epic middle school ancient Egypt projects.

Grows quickly and exponentially and will soon end up bigger than a bread box.

The only known antidote is to stop the bleeding! Sit down and start writing, for goodness sake!

Early diagnosis is helpful but doesn't necessarily shorten the duration.

Healthy sprinkling of condolences and/or apologies often greeted with quizzical expression. Only the afflicted appears to be in discomfort.

Do the Dems have the Balls to get the people's work done?

If it was only as easy as opening up a bottle!

On keeping the communication flowing....

I haven't heard a peep from the teachers since the fall conference where we were told (again) that he was having a tough time at Kindergarten recess. You know, the one with 50+ running and screaming all over the place. It seems he gets a little over excited. (really?) and can't keep him hands to himself.

But I hadn't heard anything so I sent this e-mail to prompt an update.

"Hi there, Could I just get a brief update on how Shea is doing out at recess? Is he still hitting and terrorizing the others kids when he is getting over excited? Or have things mellowed some? Please let me know so we can help reinforce the appropriate play behavior when we talk about it at home. Thanks so much!"

Sent mid-day, I had not gotten a reply by the time I picked him up at school for OT. "Hi mom!" he says and promptly bursts into tears. This never happens. This is not at all normal. I try to get him to tell me what is up. All he can really spit out is that his pal keeps on calling him "Dude" which has been their game for about 2 years now.

I asked him if he had fun at recess and he told me he had to sit out. Uh oh...

I get this e-mail from Kindergarten teacher with an add on from the aide the next day in response:

"Thanks for your email. As I am not at recess with Shea, I forwarded your email to J ...the following is her reply. Hope this information helps...thanks for continued support at home."
"Shea is still requiring frequent prompts about not grabbing other students. This applies to both recess and line behavior. Shea seems to have relatively lengthy stretches of time (4-7 days) where his behavior on the playground is mostly age appropriate punctuated by several days of difficult behavior. He requires frequent time outs on those days. I have been asking students to use deliberate "stop (fill in the blank with the unwanted behavior)" when Shea is getting too grabby. Shea then is prompted to apologize. He is compliant. In comparison to the beginning of the year, Shea is on a positive behavioral track but, again, still needs frequent reminders about keeping his hands and body to himself, both in line and at recess. We continue to work on this behavior."

Shit!

I reply:

"Thanks, you guys. I am not sure how or if we can do this but I think it would be helpful for us to know when his tough time is occurring so that he will loose privileges at home if it continues. Would it be possible to just get a quick e-mail when he is getting in trouble so that we can talk about it at home with him sooner rather than later? Obviously he is not telling us about any of this. Sorry to add more work but I think that would help because we do not know when it is happening, he is thinking he can get away with it. Let me know if that is possible. Also, yesterday when I picked him up for OT, he burst into tears. Which is so rare that it has NEVER happened before. I couldn't really get a straight answer but something about X calling him "Dude" which has been their running joke for 2 years and hardly an insult or teasing. Still not sure what happened. I asked him if he had a good recess and he said that he sat out. I was always pretty nervous of that recess time, knowing it was going to be a bit too much for him. If it really isn't working out and significant progress isn't being made, I guess I would rather try something else for the 2nd half of the year. Thanks for all you do."

Then I got a better e-mail from his IEP case manager:

"So, a new plan is for me to email you every couple days/week to let you know "how it's going" on the playground. Just a reminder that this "grabby" behavior is never considered to be malicious. He really gets so excited! He is able to tell J what he "did" every single time. Reinforcing the preventative strategies have helped. As agreed, if we are able to catch him as he is winding up...Jennifer intervenes and practices the steps towards "reorganizing". He and I practice facial cues." Show me a happy face." "This is a grumpy face. If your friend shows you this, do you think he likes what you are doing?" He has made significant improvement as compared to this time last year, and even as compared to the beginning of the school year. He leaves the playground appropriately when recess is over and listens to redirection and complies with time out requests. As you suggested, the toys in his pockets help him reorganize when he does have to sit for a few minutes. There are usually one or two little Kindergarten buddies needing to sit and reorganize at recess for a few minutes. The frequency of these instances for him as Jennifer are sporadic, cyclical and decreasing in intensity. Shannon reports incidences during preschool recess as much more rare. I was absent yesterday, but X, Shea and I can try to figure out what is going on with the "dude" game."

Now, that sounds better. And, in which I respond:

"Thank you so much, K! I am glad that you guys have a strategy and he seems to be responding and improving. I am also relieved to know that he isn't necessarily the only kid who has to sit out sometimes. Whew... But please let me know if you feel home reinforcement would benefit. A little talk about not getting to play his DS because he was naughty is incredibly powerful with him. So, feel free to use that stick or cue me! Thanks again for all your quick responses. All in all, I think it is going really well. I just feel sort of out of the loop."

Sometimes its hard to push for the information you want and it can be intimidating at times. But just keep at it. Know your rights. Know your kid's rights. Be an advocate.

If you inquire with tact, kindness and genuine appreciation, they will (usually) respond accordingly.

Also, it is not a bad idea to do the Special Ed correspondence in e-mail. Not only for the reason that you can quickly make it into a blog post but you have documentation and you can sound a little less emotional. The worst encounters I have ever had was when I was talking directly on the phone with the teacher. Some things I never would have written slipped out, never to be retrieved again. And, in a system that documents everything in the IEP form, having it all out in writing with a date on it, is mighty good.

But keep your cool folks. Let's remember MOST of the people who work with kids with special needs are wonderful, caring people who are doing this job for the best of reasons. Be extremely taciturn about escalating because these folks have your kid under their thumb on a daily basis. If you feel that you might have too much of an edge to your correspondence - STOP - pull back. Either send it to a calm friend to proof read and/or sleep on it. Sometimes after I have slept on it and re-read it, I can barely believe it was me that wrote it!

Is my kid special enough?

I was interviewing this very nice guy today. The Director of The Father's Network, a support network developed at the University of Washington 30 years ago, now the national model for bringing dads of kids with special needs together and making some very profound, positive benefits for their families.

If you haven't checked them out, you should, and can right here.

He was so awesome and knowledgeable and had been part of the development of the program from the beginning. He has his PhD in Special Education then moved to administration and was a principal for years. I mean the guy was just a treasure trove of experience and sane thoughts. And, yes, he is also a father of a son with disabilities.

Anyway, after all of my somewhat pedantic questions which he very graciously answered, he asked me a little about myself.

So, I launch into my short version. My son Shea, severe speech delay, Apraxia, blah, blah. I told him about the early intervention and the developmental preschool and that he really is doing great but it is and will continue to be a long road and it is sometimes really hard.

He said, "You know, there are many studies that show that parents of high functioning or border lines kids with special needs have an even higher stress level than parents of kids with severe needs because their needs are not as obvious, there seems to be less understanding from peers and the parents are constantly teetering on the differences between their child and typically developing peers."

Wow. I was sort of stunned. But, then a huge wave of validation washed over me and I have been thinking about what he said ever since.

On this journey of reaching out to other parents of kids with special needs, I have felt almost shy and awkward talking about my son's needs. Sort of like, "What am I complaining about? There are so many other kids who have much more dire needs." I felt I was sniveling, that Shea was not "special enough" and I should just feel glad and thankful that he is as high functioning as he is.

I felt guilt, in fact, that this pain and worry I have that just won't go away was somewhat unseemly because there are so many others who must be hurting more.

And, yes, there are many, many others who are having a harder time than Shea. My heart bleeds for them. And, for those parents.

But, my boy has a tough time talking. He may not look "special" but as soon as he opens his mouth everybody knows he is. And, even as we work hard toward acceptance, I guess it will always hurt.

I talk to my GGFs wondering aloud if Shea is a "lifer". Will he be with us forever? Will he be able to move out, go to college, have a lover, find and keep a job? No one knows and certainly no one will speculate.

So, that is the limbo we live under and probably will for some time. That is the added stress that wonderful Mr. Father's Network spoke of and validated for me today.

And, to think all this time, I thought I was just being a selfish shit.

Huh. Go figure.

God, help those poor people...

My thoughts are prayers to Haiti for the fallen and those who are digging out. And, to all who are there in mind, spirit, in reality or those who were just able to send a few bucks.

Such devastation is hard to imagine.

Update on perfectionism

Well, as many of you probably predicted, my middle schooler came home from school on Monday with the exact opposite of mood then when she left. She dragged herself out and bounced her way in.

Meaning: she was no longer bleak and wimpy.

What happened to change the dynamic so drastically?

She talked with her teacher. Eureka!

You know, it really is amazing what happens when you open your mouth and communicate. People listen, begin to understand and changes can take place.

We are all about communication in this house, as freely and as unencumbered as possible. Within reason, of course!

She went to her band teacher, first thing, and asked if she could play the song for the quiz in private. I wish I was a fly on the wall to see how she looked: down cast, uncharacteristically glum, scared poop-less probably.

He said, (insert suspenseful music here - Dun-Dun-Dun!) "Of course, come in tomorrow morning before home room."

Wow! After all that! How anticlimactic! But, extremely illustrative to how we all build up so much manufactured anxiety when it really is no big deal. You know, like a mountain out of a mole hill?

I suppose these sorts of encounters need to happen because I am sure I would get the requisite eye ball roll if I regaled her about that mountain or that mole hill myself.

Some things you just have to go through.

I asked her how everyone else did on the quiz. I have to document this here because she only admits I was right fairly infrequently.

She said, "Mom, you were right. A bunch of other kids forgot about the quiz until Sunday night and had to scramble like me. And, one kid," (complete with blushes because it is the boy she likes) completely forgot and didn't realize there was a quiz until he walked into the band room!"

Ahh...sweet retribution.

So, she practiced the quiz song a good long while on Monday night and ended up getting 19 out of 20 the next morning.

Tragedy averted...until the next time.

Perfectionism and the art of beating yourself up

Those of you who know me, know I am no perfectionist. Jake - undoubtedly but not me.

So when I see that tendency in my middle school child, WSRN (who shall remain nameless) I am at a loss.

Usually she just flits happily through life, not settling too heavily on any one thing. All things are pretty interesting and entertaining and she enjoys tons of activities and pursuits to fill her time.

Last night (Sunday night) she remembered she had a band quiz on Monday morning. She literally panicked. Whipping out her flute, she tried to bang out the tune, had trouble, more trouble, just couldn't get it. Tears, worry, bleak heavy sighs. She wanted to miss school today because of this.

Hormones much?

I said, "It's just band! You have an A in the class. One bad quiz is not going to derail you. Do your best. If it is a hard song then others are going to have trouble too. You will not be the only one!" Insert all those practical, mom-ish type comments that come out of our mouths at time such as these.

With real tears welling in her huge brown eyes, she says "But we have to play it in front of everyone while they listen and people laugh and snicker if you make a mistake."

Ouch! Now, frankly I can relate to this anxiety! It sounds like a bad dream. I never liked being put on the spot like this but I guess this band instructor has a real "trial by fire" attitude and he wants the goods or else.

I ask, "Have you ever laughed when someone makes a mistake?" Internally cringing, knowing the answer.

"I try not to." she says sniffling pathetically.

OK. I am not trying to make light of this. In fact, I am sort of frightened that she is having such a strong reaction and beating herself up so expertly. My mind boggles at all the times in life stuff like this comes up. Miserable, uncomfortable moments when you feel like a complete jerk and/or loser. Unfortunately, you sort of have to go through a few of those before you realize, "Sheesh. I am never going to be that unprepared again!" And, really mean it.

Jake, perhaps because he recognizes this perfectionist trait, says "Just do your best, honey, and then we'll make sure this never happens again. I will help you. I promise." Good advise but, of course, it didn't make her feel any better.

This morning her mood was not much better. I guess it was particularly hard to see her like that because she is literally never like that! She is always boinging around and giggling, hassling the cat, yackity yacking, bouncing out the door. It is painful to see her drag herself around.

Hormones much?

As she nibbled her toast, I said, "I can't let you blow this quiz off. I would be teaching you a bad lesson and it would be really irresponsible of me. No, you can't stay home from school."

"But, will you let me "accidentally" forget my flute today?" she interjects hopefully.

"No, baby, that's bad mommy stuff. No can do."

So, we did a little scheming and she decided she would ask the instructor if she could be quizzed on the song in private. Without the bevy of gigglers laughing at her. I took her to school, encouraged her to go straight to the band room to talk with the instructor and see what he says.

I can't imagine any middle school band instructor no being softened by my kid with her big eyes full of tears, totally stressed out about a stupid song. But, I haven't heard the outcome yet. Who know, maybe it is all about weeding them out the first year.

But, that brings me back to my fears for her and this blasted perfectionism. This is a kid where everything has been pretty easy so far. She really takes to things quickly and can pull good grades without a herculean effort. If something is hard she wants to quit and go back to something she is good at. Therefore not being prepared for a quiz can throw her into a spiral?

That just seems to not bode well. I am not going to make a big deal out of this, I say over and over to myself. I expect her to bounce through the door, her normal chirpy self. Maybe we were right. It won't be as bad as she thought. Let's hope.

Update to come...

Planning any airline travel lately...

A brief glance at dance or The grounding of the Grind

Once there were the flappers
way back in the day,
the way they flapped and bared their legs
was considered quite risque.

Then there was the "Lindy"
and of course the "Jitter-bug"
the adults didn't like it,
all this "cutting of the rug".

In the 50's it was Elvis
who ground a bit himself.
It took the Beatles and the 60's
to put him on the shelf.

The "Boogaloo", the "Billy",
the "Shimmy" and the "Twist",
My older sister became a twister
and Boy! my folks were pissed.

In my time it was Disco,
a dance we all regret.
I shudder just to hear the word,
I'd just as soon forget.

With the "Rappers" came the "Breakers",
with the "Hippers" came the "Hop".
"Could you please turn down the volume!
Will this nonsense never stop?"

Now the kids are grinding
and it makes use geezers flip.
All the grabbing and the groping
and the gripping of the hip.

So if you grind you're grounded
and if you're grounded you may find
Saying to yourself,
"My god, my mothers lost her mind!"

"This grinding must be grounded,
if not by reason then by force."
Its always been that parents
don't want their kids to "intercourse".

So if you find yourself
at a Vashon High School dance,
just relax and take a deep breath
For at least they're wearing pants.

By Jake Dillon

Love is all you need: around the world

Hanky alert!

Sometimes human ingenuity and creativity strikes me near speechless. This is one of those time.

What can we learn from the sheer coordination effort of a project like this? What can we learn about people all over the world singing the same song, in the same voice, in the same key? Beautifully, I might add.

Perhaps something so huge that is seems tiny, our shared humanity. Our commonality is so much greater than our differences.

I wish that our singing could be heard above the bombs and gun fire. And, for a few minutes it does.

Thanks, mom, for passing this along. She has an amazing knack for knowing what is blog worthy and worth passing on.

Peace

Impulse control and other lessons from the playground

Shea told us a relatively long and involved story tonight at dinner. In his halting way, he told us about his friend "Pete" who was mean to "Bill" and how "Pete" won't listen to "Bill" when "Bill" says stop.

Disclaimer: The names have been changed to protect the innocent and the not so innocent.

We had a good long talk about it and I proclaimed all sorts of parental type comments like; how a friend needs to "use their listening ears" and when a friend says "No!" or "Stop!" that you just need to listen to them. Sometimes these phrases come out of my mouth and I wonder who I am. Where did that come from? Honestly, I must have heard it myself many, many, many times before it flowed so effortlessly.

He sagely nods as if this is literally child's play for him and he already has this very simple life lesson nailed.

But he doesn't.

In fact, I find it interested that he wants to share this story with us now because it seems to be the exact issue that the teachers were bringing up about him on the playground.

Shea gets out there with the 50+ Kindergartners and gets revved up like an engine with faulty brakes. I know. 50! No wonder?

He wants to chase and play tag and do all sort of rough and tumble sorts of games and he may have several kids who are just fine with it for a time but when they have had enough, Shea has a tough time switching gears.

This is something we are working on and thankfully making progress on. And, now as I hear him regale us with this somewhat involved tale of how his naughty friend is doing the exact same thing, I find it charming and telling.

He is processing this lesson, somewhere in that sweet blond head, cataloging; defining; arranging; working it into the fabric of how he fits into the world; how friends are made and kept; how play stays play and doesn't turn into getting into trouble.

How many times does it take to say something for someone to learn? Answer: Depends on the person. With Shea it takes a bit of repetition for him to get it but that we already know.

He will get it. In fact, he is on his way to "getting it" right now.

Thanks "Pete" and "Bill"! You are keys to this puzzle.

God bless our soldiers in the field this holiday

Thanks mom and John for reminding us of this wonderful (but over looked by me) Christmas tune.

XO

Wicked impatience: a holiday tradition?

Do you still get excited for Christmas morning? The tearing into the vast pile of gifts? After all these years, do you still get impatient for it to begin? Count down the days? Bristle with anticipation? Is the advent calendar just a tease?

Me? Not really. I am such an old crunchy grown up now that the season seems to just speed by. Today Thanksgiving, tomorrow Christmas. There is still, of course, that magical feeling in the air. Something kinder, more generous seems to hit humanity in the forehead.

I like that.

The tension in our house is palpable. Impatience at 11 is a very real thing. I can remember the flutter of anticipation that would sit in my stomach when I had to wait the allotted days. It is not hidden. It is not gentle or kind. It is out there for all to see on my middle schooler's cuff and she is working it for all its worth.

For about 2 weeks now, she has been nagging, cajoling, begging to open up her presents early.

I just shake my head with annoyance. She must think I rule the heavens, earth and the calendar but, I am sorry to say, my influence does not go that far.

"No! You have to wait until Christmas morning just like every one else!" I finally bellow after being needled for what seems like hours. Chagrined, she slinks away to regroup but just circles round to try again.

Sigh. No wonder I am exhausted.

I thought that Shea was somewhat impervious to this emotional roller coaster but when Molly proclaimed her impatience aloud just the other day, Shea piped up promptly and said, "Me too!"

Sitting back and watching their gyrations is touching although I remember it being tough when I was a kid. But, how long will it last? How long will they be enchanted by the stories, the tree, the gifts, the traditional shows we watch every year, our combined tradition?

When will it happen that they are more concerned with activities outside our tight little family unit? Answer: incrementally.

For that, I am not impatient.

I feel thankful, yet again, for all that I have. The health and happiness of those I hold dear. And, as the years pass, as the kids grow older; grow up and away, I will look back fondly to these unnerving assaults on the tradition. The wheedling, the begging, the aching ampatience; all tidings that my kids are still kids.

For, a while yet.

May your holiday be warm and wonderful and shared with friends and family.

Best wishes to you all!

Joe the bummer

Is this really happening?

No public option. No expanded Medicare. Just a mandate with millions of new customers for the health insurance companies to exploit.

I no likey!

Anybody else want to drop kick Lieberman?

Talk about working AGAINST his constituents interest! Obstruct much?

Holy cow!

Thanks a hell of a lot, Joe!

Skating on Fisher pond, Vashon Island

It doesn't happen often but skating has been known to take place on beautiful Fisher Pond on Vashon Island. Northwesterners are quick to take advantage of a unique turn in the weather such as this. Or at least some people do.

During this cold snap, intrepid reporter and skating enthusiest, Happenin' Jan, documented the recent event.

In fact, I did not know that there is a Fisher Pond Skating Facebook Club with recently updated posts. And, a near by family who has been collecting skates of all sizes so anyone can give it a try.

Member of the club, Happenin' Jan said she could see the water lilies frozen underneath the surface, suspended.

Cool!

Uh...I mean COLD!

Love to those in the tropics.

Uh oh...

Now, what the heck are we going to do about this?

All suggestions welcome. All generations are welcome; past and future.

Obama meets young girl with Leukemia, Make-A-Wish

X-posted from my Examiner.com page.

Make-A-Wish Foundation has made many dreams come true over the years. They continue to make the impossible somehow possible, bringing a little bit of wonder back into some very sick kid's lives.

Meet Jasmina Anema; she is 6 years old and has leukemia.

According to an article at The Huffington Post, the girl's trip from Manhattan to Washington D.C. was sponsored by the Make-A-Wish Foundation and was meant to happen last week, but was cancelled due to her ill-health, according to NBC.

In addition to the aggressive natural killer cell (NK-cell) leukemia returning, Jasmina suffered complications from her bone marrow donor's cells attacking her body, a condition called "graft-versus-host disease".

Jasmina was originally scheduled to meet President Obama and the First Lady around Thanksgiving, but according to NY1, she suffered seizures after developing Posterior Reversible Encephalopathy Syndrome, as a side effect of medications.

Jasmina finally made the trip to the White House on Wednesday, visiting the Oval Office and receiving some gifts to take back home.

In an interview recorded before her failed Thanksgiving trip, the resilient girl admitted she couldn't sleep because she was so excited.

This holiday season think about donating to the Make-A-Wish Foundation and become part of making dreams come true for some brave kids in our own neighborhoods.