The Birthday

Well, the big birthday is finally over. Thank Heavens! My retarded daughter had her birthday today. And it has been a massive undertaking for about a month now. She has been telling everyone in town about her birthday coming up. You would have thought it was going to be the birthday celebration of the year. I usually take her and some friends out for pizza for her birthday. I planned this again and then last weekend, she just fell apart. She had terrible temper tantrums all weekend. Then on Sunday afternoon, she had a seizure in the local store. Well of course this caused just a dab of commotion. Then on Monday morning when she got out of bed, she had another one. So I called some of my children and they agreed to cover for me with the pizza lunch.

In early afternoon, I thought my daughter was much better, so I decided to try to run some errands. I had forgotten that riding in the car will sometimes precipitate a seizure. So we got about two blocks from home and she had another one. I turned the car around and we went home and stayed there. She acted up all afternoon. Then after dinner, she rallied somewhat and settled down. I had decided to keep her out of school as long as necessary so she wouldn’t get any more upset about her @#$% birthday. Instead, she said she was going to school the next day. I agreed that if she slept all night, she could probably go to school. She slept very well and next morning was bright, happy and ready for school. As she stepped up on the school bus, she said, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come for pizza, but I had a hard seizure’. And that was that.

The week went fairly well, but she talked about her birthday constantly. Then the big day finally came. Her birthday finally arrived. She had a good day with her friends at school. Her brothers and sisters all called to wish her Happy Birthday! As she settled down for the evening, she told me she had a wonderful birthday.

Sure am glad that birthday is over. Glad I have to wait a whole year for another one. I may run away from home next year. I’m thinking about it.

Oh, the Power of the Dollar

With so much newsy news about the economy these days, people sometimes forget that money is just simply to be used for whatever needs there are. In my house, that has an entirely different meaning when it comes to dollar bills. My retarded daughter never could sleep well. I tried everything imaginable, discipline, begging, bribing, etc. Nothing ever worked. She just simply did not need to sleep. I finally offered to pay her a dollar each morning, if she slept all night until the alarm went off. Well that has worked miracles at my house. She now sleeps from 9 in the evening until the alarm sounds about 6. She feels better and I certainly do, too. This dollar bill has given us a whole new lifestyle. She crams that dollar in her pocket each morning, then puts it in an envelope in her desk before she goes off to school. At the end of the week, we count the dollars and then I take her to the dollar store each Saturday. There, she buys all sorts of goodies, coloring books, writing tablets, and various knick knacks. Then on Monday morning, she takes a bag full of treats to all her friends at school. They love it, she loves it, and I really love my good night’s sleep. Read all about my different life in my upcoming book, Sammie and I just as soon as I have it published.

Morning Coffee

I lay back down for a minute after the alarm sounded this morning. Then I heard my retarded daughter moving around in the kitchen so thought I better check on her. When I entered the room, she was leaning against the counter, eyes downcast. She said, ‘I made a mess, Mom’. She had certainly done that! She had tried to make coffee for the two of us and coffee grounds were everywhere. They were piled on top of the coffee pot, on the counter, in the open drawer, on the floor. My first thought was to get mad and fuss at her. But then I realized she had done the best she could. So I just patted her shoulder and asked her to help me clean up the mess. How could I possibly get mad at her when she had done the best she could? God only asks this of each one of us, that we do the best we can every day. How could I ask more of her than God asks of me?
Read my book, A Better World for more suggestions on how to have a better life. Visit my website.

Thanks, Bet