Josh's Apartment

I bet that got your attention! ;) But let me back up a bit. Or a lot...

When Josh was in middle school--yeah, I may have lost ya right there--he was already dismantling and rebuilding computers and creating programs to automate his life. This was long before I'd heard of using a computer as more than a typewriter. Yet somehow he got to college and majored in molecular biology followed by medical school. I know; it's a sharp left turn. Why not upgrade that computer science minor to a major? Pursuing a mildly promising industry like "high tech"? Aw, better to get into a really well-run sector like...wait for it...healthcare.

Needless to say, he did a lot of soul-searching that last year of medical school (WHAT AM I DOING HERE?). Then, just in the nick of time, God totally dropped a new and emerging field (informatics) that combines computers, math, and medicine (his holy trinity) into his lap. And oh, by the way, he was already at the university with the largest department in that field.

Then, once he latched on to informatics, he had to figure out where to specialize. In five years, he had found a trajectory: genomics (aka personalized medicine). Using Vanderbilt's largest-single-system genetic database and electronic health record, he created a new way to research links between DNA and disease/treatments (phenotyping).

This is all pretty great and we have been blown away how God has provided just the right opportunity for his gifts at the right time and place again and again. But it's still on the personal level.

When you ask someone what they do, and their answer is medical research, there usually isn't much of a follow-up conversation. Who understands what most academic scientists are studying? You find your niche, pursue it for its intrinsic value, and pray it makes a dent in the vastness of WHAT WE DO NOT KNOW.

Or, the President of the United States decides to highlight your research area in his State of the Union and make it the thrust of a new national healthcare initiative at the National Institutes of Health (NIH).

Wait. WHAT!?

Exactly. We have been on this ride from feeling like he'd missed the boat, sitting in the wrong field, to finding a niche that had just developed and discovering he was actually sitting in its HQ, worrying about getting grants and proving himself in a tough economy to working at the NIH for his idol (Francis Collins). He could not have strategized it out. Plenty of scientists work just as hard in fields that get no recognition. We just got that lucky that God picked him, now, for this.

Or that's how we see it. And that's why my husband has an apartment in Maryland. See? I was coming back to that. He's been working Mondays at Vandy then flying back and forth Tuesday-Friday each week to work on a report for the president on how to structure this new initiative. And it's been a mighty experiment of its own: 1. trying out working for the government (him), and 2. feeling what it's like to have a daddy that travels every week (us).

Now that we're 3/4 of the way to the finish line, I thought I'd record a few of the things we've learned from this experience:

1. Traveling a lot (our normal) is not the same as traveling every week (our present). In some ways, every week is easier because it is predictable - no expectations to disappoint - no tension about whether he'll be here or last-minute trips to work around. When he's in town, he's (mostly) ours.  We ADORE weekends. They're like holidays around here. Drop everything and PLAY WITH DADDY Time.

On the other hand, every week is harder. I still find myself on Tuesdays thinking, When he gets home tonight I'll ask him about... or we'll work on that together... Since he is a willful social media ignoramus (ahem), I am his only link to what we and our friends and family are up to. With him gone all week, that means he's even more out of touch than usual. It also means I can spend days working through a developing issue but he only encounters it once I've reached a conclusion Friday night - and Woe to the man who questions my conclusion after I've spent the last FOUR DAYS on the phone and web working it out. You see the potential.

2. Working a lot (our normal) is not the same as working out of town (our present). In his normal job, Josh was usually gone 7am-7pm Monday-Friday. At the time, I thought this was pretty close to gone, since the boys are up 6:45am-7:30pm. In some ways, it seemed worse because I used to watch the clock in hopes he'd get home sooner. Plus, I have to cook Real Food if he's eating dinner (not that he's hard to please - just that it's somehow different when there's another adult palate in the picture - someone who prefers Real Food to dinosaur oatmeal).

Turns out, that 15min in the morning and 30min at bedtime matter. I can't say that enough. They MATTER. They matter to the boys, and they matter to me. I hope I never dismiss that 45min again.

Then, there's the 7:30pm-6:45am for just us. Granted, we both tend to work at night. But we sit and talk while he eats dinner, we talk between and over projects, and we stop to watch a show and eat dessert before bed. Then, we get to go to bed together. I used to fret that I would get so much less done when he was here. Now, I know that it was Worth. It. Do I really need to spend 4 hours straight painting that bannister? Or writing this blog post? And what about the fact that neither of us sleeps as long/well when we're apart? I'm getting sick more because I'm tired more because He's Gone More. You get the idea.

3. Working for a nonprofit (our normal) is not the same as working for the government (our present). If we thought some of the restrictions placed on him by government-funded grants were ridiculous, they don't hold a candle to those placed on executive agency employees. And while every group of humans has organizational politics, suddenly he's been thrust into Politics politics, and it's a whole different ballgame.

To be fair, there are also upsides to working for a superpower. The scale (and impact) of the research is many multiples of what he could accomplish at one institution. At one point, a mentor told him it would be really good to work at the NIH. I said, "For your career?" Josh replied, "For humankind." Oh. Yeah. THAT. #whatever

4. Subletting an apartment (our present) is not the same as having a second home (our never). As Josh has discovered (to my delight, I admit), paying for a house does not make it homey. In fact, it makes it more like a dorm. Our visit in July helped humanize it, but the walls are still bare white, the food all out of the freezer, and he has a whole new appreciation for my Homegoods addiction. So there is some good coming from it. ;)

5. Some people ARE all they are cracked up to be. After we read The Language of God several years ago, we both joined the Francis Collins fan club. To find a Christian at the height of science was just too good. Then he scheduled a call with Josh, and we thought, What is he going to ask? Can you even say no to your idol? Thankfully, he just asked to "borrow" Josh for 4 months, so Yes was easy.

Since then, Josh has had the chance to become disillusioned by this mentor -- and it hasn't happened. Instead, Collins invited our entire family to his house for dinner. Me: "Are you sure? Did you tell him we'll have 3 little boys with us? And that they're 2-, 5-, and 7-years old? (Yes.) And they still want us to come??" They did. We went. It was amazing. They have double helixes built into their moldings and hardwood floors, and we sat around singing songs while he played his guitar. It was all very surreal. And worth the price of admission (see #1-4...).

Celebrating the completion of the Report to the President

6. We would do it again, but not forever. October 1st, here we come!!

Italy in Retrospect

If you're gonna face jet lag, do it somewhere with really goooood coffee.
And the fact Italian coffee shops open at 8am on weekdays
and restaurants open for dinner at 7pm on weekends just proves
I was meant to be Italian.

We are back. Back to our three scrumptious boys and wet summer heat and suburban Nashville. If you're on social media, you probably took the trip with us: London, Rome, Florence, Tuscany. Eight days. No kids. And about 24 cappuccinos per person (not kidding - see right).

It was amazing -- even better in retrospect. Much as I love our lives and would never want to move there (I did read Under the Tuscan Sun), it was one of our best vacations. Rather than repeating the play-by-play from InstaFB, I thought I'd just share some reflections from our trip, in pretty random order...

ON ITALY

1. I had low expectations. With my brother's study abroad as an excuse, my parents took me to Rome, Florence, and Venice when I was 16. I must have been a horrid 16 (I'm already dreading payback), because I do not have great memories from that trip. I remember hot, smoggy, noisy, crowded, with beggars and pickpockets and disappointing food (yeah, I know). I also got sick enough that I had to fly home early. Fast forward to 2015, and I had a very difficult time finding a book set in contemporary Rome that was actually flattering, which was ominous. On the flight there, I read Robert Hutchinson's memoir of frustration, When in Rome. AND my first day was in London, possibly my favorite city in the world. So I was ready to be disappointed. Really, the perfect position to start a trip. ;)

2. I was SO happily surprised. The air was clear and bright, not too hot, and not too crowded. We had some delicious food. I didn't see explicit sexuality everywhere (contra Gilbert in Eat Pray Love). Everyone was friendly and most spoke English. We hardly saw any gypsies and nothing was stolen. The buildings were not falling to pieces -- many had even been recently cleaned or renovated (contra Hutchison). We didn't even run into any operational fiascos or corruption (contra Berlusconi's rep). All the usual criticisms of Italy may still have a kernel of truth, but we didn't see them, and we weren't trying that hard to avoid them.

3. Italy is not like suburban Nashville. Insightful, I know. Still, the contrast was my biggest impression on re-entry. Though they're both "Western" and mostly English-speaking and warm and lush and sunny this time of year, the overabundance of 500-2,000-year-old art/history that papers the floors and walls and streets and churches throughout the old cities in Italy is totally foreign to my little domain back home.

I used to think the few cobblestone streets in MA were charming. Italy takes cobblestone to a whole new level. They're everywhere, but so much older that they're actually pleasant to walk on. And many are pedestrian. Can you imagine any American city blocking off that many central streets to cars?

This is not to mention the glorious facades on buildings around every corner, the 2,000-yr-old ruins sunk between city blocks...

Left: Modern cat habitat (literally, we met the vet who cares for the 300+ cats) built when Julius Caesar was running the country. #ruinsruinseverywhere
Right: Love how they left the ruins standing but built "new" townhomes adjacent and gave them matching street lights.

And the piazzas. The Piazzas.

4. The "old city" (tourist district) is far more attractive than its concentric circles. As with every other city I've visited (except Nantucket which has its own unique barriers to entry), the urban sprawl that is modern apartment buildings and graffiti and city buses, utility poles and laundry mats and tanning salons and...ordinary life is ubiquitous, and not everyone can be rich enough to make it beautiful. I came away from Italy in love with what we saw but also realizing we didn't interact with any of our locations as people who live there. We only saw the best they have to offer. Except when we strayed off the grid, and saw people defecating on the street or fighting in wedding dresses in front of a cafe or pushing a full shopping cart up a curb. This dichotomy always makes me uncomfortable. Is it disingenuous? Did we really get the Italian experience if we stayed on the curated level of a tourist? Who knows? But I do know if people came to visit me, I wouldn't take them to Dickerson Road. I'd want them to see the highlights of Nashville -- our city and culture at its most interesting and best. I can't imagine an Italian would be disappointed I did the same.

#nofilter

5. Their ingredients are not replacable. Under the Tuscan Sun refers to this, but now that I'm home, it's true. I cannot make an Italian cappuccino with these beans, and my attempt at tomato bruschetta was so pathetic I threw the last pieces away. We just don't have their fresh tomatoes which are TO DIE FOR. But really, I don't mind too much. It would be a little sad if that exact food were available anywhere. And in the interest of full disclosure, they don't have the best of everything. Tuscan bread has no salt in it, and every night it was served to us absolutely plain (no butter, oil, etc). So they have coffee, tomatoes, cheese, fresh-pressed olive oil, ribbons of never-dried-out pasta, truffles, etc. We have bread with salt.

6. While we're on food, Italians love carbs. Every menu starts with bread, then bread with stuff on it (antipasto), then pasta (primo), then meat and potatoes (secondo), then once you're good and full, a salad, fruit, or cheese. The primary ingredients to the 3 main courses appeared to be wheat, meat, and cheese. I struggled to find pasta that had veges mixed in, and then they were more of a garnish. We could not figure out how they eat all of these courses, what they have against vegetables, and why the servings were so big -- and yet they're still so svelte! #nofair

7. One more food item: It's cheap, if you can get the check. Maybe it's that we're used to a check for 5 instead of 2, but we were pleasantly surprised to get cappuccinos for <$2, lunches for <$25, and dinners in Rome for <$40, and that includes paying for water. IF we could get the bill. The food all comes out in a timely fashion, and then the servers disappear for about 30-45min before you can flag them down or accost the hostess. We weren't usually in a hurry, but we thought it was funny that they seemed to have no particular interest in getting paid. 

8. Men's fashion is just more fun over there. The men actually wear suits and ties regularly - and not just in navy blue! As in England, they're not afraid of color, patterns beyond the pinstripe, and clothes that fit. As I've gotten more into my side-job of dressing my husband, this made me wish we had lots more room in our luggage.

Where we didn't go...yet.

9. Italy has a rich and diverse landscape for such a small country (=Arizona). I didn't realize how much more there is to see than Rome. I could easily plan another trip, this time with Venice, Milan, the Dolomites, Cinque Terre, and the Amalfi Coast. To start. ;)

ON TRAVELING

It is hard to know how to talk about a trip to Italy. Sharing the bad with the good can sound like whining (after all, you're in Italy!), but not sharing the bad can sound saccharine and boasting. I'm convinced it's impossible to get just right. But I am going to take some space here to share some of the foibles from our trip - and when possible, how I'd address them.

1. The boys back home. To make the time go faster and be more fun for our boys, I enrolled them each in summer programs and they had 3 different sets of sitters. I'm convinced it all helped them not miss us. It also made the prep RIDICULOUS. SO many details to organize between carpools and handoffs, etc. Next time, I'll try to get them all in the same programs or somehow simplify this so I don't kill myself before we leave.

2. Sitters to the Rescue! Aaron threw up at camp (overheated) the day after I left. Isaac got a 24-hr stomach bug a few days later. These could have been disastrous; When you're across the pond, you don't want to rush home for a stomach bug. THANK GOD we learned years ago to get sitters who can handle the unexpected and not flee at the first sign of trouble. Or vomit.

3. Telecommunications. Josh managed to get us free data roaming in Europe (woohoo!), but it drained my battery, which was already faltering. Since my phone is my link to my children AND my camera, this became a constant source of anxiety. Next time, I'd get my phone checked out before we leave and probably buy a new battery rather than take one that's limping.

Top left looks so nice! Do not be deceived. The rest are
Hotel L'Orologio in Florence. Ahhh... :)

4. Good night, sleep tight. Thanks to Josh's business, we only had to book 4 nights of hotels. I decided to save $ one of those nights, and it was by far our worst night with short, restless sleep thanks to a noisy neighborhood, thin walls, cheap beds, and undependable AC. When you've gone to the trouble to get all the way over there, you hate to ruin 24 hours to save $75. Next time: Don't skimp on the hotel, no matter what the Trip Advisors say; it's only $100 for a reason.

5. Sleep and Sickness. I am ridiculously sensitive to sleep: If I don't get 8 hours, I tend to get sick. This may explain why I threw up at the end of the red-eye from Philly-London (Note to self: NO MORE REDEYES). Regardless, it terrified me as I was about to spend the day alone in London. How could I have a stomach bug when I didn't even have a hotel!? Miraculously, the nauseua vanished once I expelled the airplane food (hmm....). But a few days later we spent the night at the cheap hotel, and I woke up with a cold. I toured a bunch of medieval cities with one eye out for a "Farmacia." Next time: Bring more drugs, and #3.

Sheraton Parco Medici is a perfect example of how to
address #3 and #6 simultaneously. I would never have
picked it so far from the city center, but it was
pastoral and refreshing and worth the bus ride -
and chosen by Josh's conference organizers.

6. Priorities. Our cheap hotel night was compounded by a wild goose chase. It was a spontaneous addition to our plans, it was far from the tourist area, it was closed for a priest convention, and walking there and back through the hood not only wore us out but also consumed our last evening in Rome. Next time: Stick to the plan, or at least take a cab.

7. Relax. When we've gone all the way anywhere, it's easy to feel like we have to see as much as possible - we may not be back! But the temptation to marathon sightsee is a mirage - one I fall for often. Our best days usually involve a leisurely pace and some sitting and sipping in an outdoor cafe. Note to self: Don't ever feel guilty for missing another landmark because you slept in or had another cappuccino. This is not an assignment; it is vacation.

IN CONTEXT

I love reading books and watching movies set in the locations we plan to visit. It helps them come alive to me. I searched through many terrible lists of "books set in Italy." Eventually, I accumulated a collection more suited to my interests. So, here's my list... and bona sera!

#1 - The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone. A biography of Michelangelo written like a novel. I wish I'd heard of this book more than 2 days before our trip! It is also a movie starring Charlton Heston & Rex Harrison, which I now plan to see. 

#2 - Under the Tuscan Sun by Frances Mayes. Such a lovely prep for Tuscany - and Italian food. Also a movie starring Diane Lane.

#3 - Four Seasons in Rome by Anthony Doerr. A contemporary memoir of a year this writer spent adjusting to and falling in love with Rome with his wife and newborn twins.

#4 - The Inferno by Dan Brown. Josh read this and said it made Florence (and Venice, if we'd gone there) even more interesting.

#5 - When in Rome by Robert Hutchinson. A memoir of this journalist's year spent moving to Rome with his family and trying to penetrate the Vatican. At times fascinating, relatable, unflattering, and eventually boring.

#6 - "Eat" of Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. If you're just interested in Rome, you can skip the intro and stop at the end of the first section. Gilbert will whet your appetite for Italian food, if not Rome itself. There's also a movie starring Julia Roberts.

#7 - A Room with a View by E.M. Forster. The movie version starring Helena Bonham Carter & Maggie Smith is to die for.

#8 - "Roman Holiday" movie with Audrey Hepburn & Gary Cooper. Fluffy 1950s romcom fun & you'll recognize the major sites in Rome. I love the ending.

#9 - Blood, Bones & Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton. I really liked this book but rank it low because only some scenes near the end are set in Italy.

#? - The Shoemaker's Wife by Adriana Trigiani. I haven't gotten to this one yet, but I did like her book, Big Stone Gap.

When We Have to Helicopter

I'm not a helicopter parent. Oh, I have my moments, and not that anyone probably thinks they are, but at least I feel like my tendency is to err on the other end of the continuum. This is probably why I love Jen Hatmaker and Tim Kimmel's variety of parenting - let them encounter struggles and coach them through so they feel strong and capable afterward.

But before I get on my soapbox, this post is actually about facing the fact that sometimes, laissez faire breaks down. Sometimes I need to be more involved than is my bent. Sometimes, our kids need a helicopter. Much as it kills me to say that. And the fact is, as much as I love my boys, that doesn't mean I always want to do the things that are good for them. It's easier to tell myself they don't really need those things.

A couple weeks ago, two different friends I love and respect who are veteran educators separately invited me for coffee in order to discuss our complicated situation with my son's education. They invited me. (backwards, I know) They fed me. They reviewed my giant file folder. They asked tons of questions. And in the end, and with more words and delicious food and gentleness, they came to the same bottom line: This is going to be hard, and You're gonna have to do more.

The fact is, he has special needs, so the regular program is not designed to work for him. I cannot sit back and let the professionals do their thing without understanding what they're doing, how my son is responding, where we stand, and what we should expect. I am the best advocate for him, and he needs me to be that on a weekly basis. No matter where he attends school. I've had more than one person tell me, "At times it will feel like a full-time job."

Can I just say? That scares the bejesus out of me. I don't inherently understand the terminology used in his IEP. It's uncomfortable asking his therapists and teachers for explanations and evidence. I'm the parent who does a little dance when articles say not to help your kids with homework. And now I have years of painstaking homework and monthly parent-teacher conferences and therapy sessions where I have to stay and watch and understand rather than just drop him off?

Even as I type that, it sounds so ugly. All along, I've known deep down what I've been really clinging to: mine. My time, my energy, my ease. All my selfishness has been laid bare. I want to do what I enjoy, what I'm good at, and I don't like having to give that up for something difficult. I sound like a toddler.

But what I've been realizing in the weeks since then, is that this is parenting. So far, it has been relatively "easy" because I've mostly wanted to do what my kids needed me to do. But that's not really selflessness. That's just my selfishness and their needs aligning.

And actually, I think every parent hits this wall at some point -- I've just now started noticing. The testimony from a friend about the dietary gymnastics she's having to perform for her kids (who have medical issues). Another woman's willingness to drive across town for athletic practices because her son has a phenomenal passion/talent she never expected. A neighbor's years-long commitment to taking care of her elderly parents with Alzheimer's. It's one thing to see people showing boundless love and think, How sweet. It's another to realize the choices they have made to be that person -- the things they have sacrificed or embraced to show that love.

My "sacrifice" is actually very manageable. Not when I look at 18 years all at once. But last week. And this week. Even next week. I've been talking to the teachers, visiting the school, meeting with the therapists, studying the reports and files, reading online, creating a few baby steps toward making our home more supportive, attending a few education seminars, and setting up therapy sessions for this summer.

And you know what? It hasn't been that bad. I'm kind-of excited about my new-found knowledge. The rubber won't fully hit the road till next fall, but in the meantime, I'm reminded that Nineveh tends to look a lot worse than it is. My steady resistance to changing our "normal" life was just stupid. If I'd been a movie character, I would've been so frustrated with me.

But it's not like now I'm done; I've suddenly become selfless and it's so great. In fact, now that I'm more aware of my selfishness, I see it popping up everywhere. My decisions not to play with the boys because I don't love hot wheels and sword fighting. Choosing sports leagues that require the least commitment because I don't want to drive around on weeknights. My resistance to cutting lactose from my son's diet because it's easier to prep food without restrictions. Sometimes, these things are good for our family (my kids need free play, they don't need intense sports yet, and it's better for him if he can drink lactose) BUT let's be honest: sometimes I don't do them because I just don't want to. I still want life to be easy and fit into my expectations.

Which is not to say our entire home needs to revolve around the boys. Or that I'm taking over their education. Or that I'm giving up all my own extracurriculars -- more that I'm recognizing a shift in where that balance is found right now for me. Their needs are changing, and that means I need to adjust with them.

And I guess what I'm really trying to say is that those adjustments aren't easy just because I love my boys. As parents, sometimes I think we just need to hear that. To know that. It helps when I look at my boys or think about their preciousness. I am in love with each of them, and that definitely makes it all worthwhile. But being a good parent to them still requires effort and conscious choices and sacrifices.

Right now, it requires me to lean in. I'm a big Sheryl Sandberg fan, and with her husband's sudden death in the news lately, her book and campaign have been on my mind. People are often surprised that I--a stay-at-home mom--am a fan. But it's because she encourages women to "lean in" to their callings and passions and pursuits rather than holding back out of fear or insecurity. This week, I've been realizing that it's time for me to lean in a little more to motherhood. And while becoming an expert in special education would not have been my first choice, it is my best choice right now, and that is all that really matters.

How We Do Disney

The first time we went to WDW, I was stressed out. Then “someone” made a return to WDW his single request upon receiving tenure. SOOOO back we went. But this time, we made much better choices and I fell in love (with WDW, and with “someone” again ;)). In hopes of saving you from learning the hard way, here are some things we have found helpful. First, here are my posts with tips from past trips:

Disney Debrief (May 2010)

Denny Disney Adventure of 2013 (Jan 2013)

Back to Disney, Day 1 (Jan 2014)

And the things that jumped out at me this time in the order we needed them…

When – Do yourself a favor and go during off-peak times. It’s the one real advantage you have over all those folks with school-age kids. And with limited time between naps, you don’t want to spend it in line. You'll also save money on the hotel.

Where – We splurge to stay on-property to minimize transit time and maximize the magic (corny, true). My priorities are: 1. Access to theme parks by walking or monorail (vs. bus or car) because they are much faster and easier with a stroller and when you need to go back to the room during the day. 2. One-bedroom so we actually sleep and not all starting at 7pm, and 3. Kitchen facilities (and best-case a washer/dryer). Thus our favorites are villas next to parks (i.e. Bay Lake and Boardwalk). The 1-bedrooms come standard with a full kitchen, pack-n-play, highchair, access to toilet from every room (without walking through bedroom) and even a nightlight. We save by only staying there on the nights we can make the most of it (i.e. this time we stayed at an airport hotel the night we arrived at 10pm and the night before we left on a 7am flight).

How Long – WDW is really designed for a week-long visit. The 4^th day is $10 more and the 5th and 6th days were free with our resort package. Plus the park-hopper feature is a flat rate (an easy choice amortized over 6 days). Most notably, if you have plenty of time to explore, you won't run yourself ragged. You can take naps, pool breaks, revisit parks, go on a date, and relax a little! I promise if you try to squeeze it all in a couple days, you'll likely feel overwhelmed, overstimulated, exhausted, and price-gouged.  

Your Homework – As soon as you book your resort, make reservations for dinners, character meals, and fastpasses (all through the Disney app) to avoid long lines. For the most popular events, reserve 180 days before your arrival.

Tony's Town Square - our favorite
restaurant in the Magic Kingdom

Their Homework – This is so simple and FUN, and we’ve found it makes a big difference. We spend the couple months before our trip watching/reading through the classic Disney stories, just to make sure we can all catch the hints of story infused throughout the gardens, decor, rides, etc. A plant-sculpted Belle means a lot more to a kid if he’s seen the movie. And Tony's Town Square Italian restaurant is a joy IF you've read Lady and the Tramp. One reason my boys love all the attractions is because they already know and love their contexts.

Know Thyself – This is where I contradict all of the above. ;) There are countless ways to "do Disney." I have friends who use touring plans to plot out every move and maximize efficiency. I know others who go for one day on any given trip to FL because that's their maximum dose. We like to have a general plan set up with flexibility on the specifics and a slow pace.  Take the time and license to tailor your WDW plans to fit the kind of vacationers you are. You won’t regret doing a little extra prep to make it fit your needs. The times I have felt the most stress it was usually because I felt like I "should" be doing it the way someone else does.

Ok, a final few specifics:

Us in "France" + Them in our hotel room = A Night Off.
Once I got over the sticker shock and spent the evening
kid-free in Epcot, I became a believer. #happy anniversary
#16years www.kidsniteout.com

Date Night – We used www.kidsniteout.com for the first time this trip, and it was LOVELY. EXPENSIVE ($25/hr for 3 kids) but so worthwhile. If you have room in your budget for a big splurge, or you can give this to each other for your anniversary (hint hint), go for it. Our sitter was a perky 20-something who brought puzzles and toys and fed the boys and put them to bed and texted me with updates. Meanwhile, we cruised the World Showcase and Boardwalk like newlyweds.

Phone Backup Charger – This time we depended entirely on the Disney iphone app (vs. books) while we were in WDW, using it to check park hours, ride wait times, change fastpasses, add plans, adjust dining, etc. We had it or our cameras open so much that they drained our phone batteries by late afternoon. Thankfully, we had a back-up wireless charger with us that carried us both through the rest of each day. We also switched to “Airplane Mode” when we weren’t using them. AND since women’s clothes never have pockets, I kept mine in my armband that protected it during fast/wet rides.

To be with this man at his happiest place on earth, on his
birthday, and to know the kid inside him. This is goodness.
Even with the blowout (not his).

Celebration Buttons – If you’re visiting WDW over a personal holiday (birthday, anniversary, mothers’ day – or all 3 like us this time), they give you a button to wear on your special day. WEAR IT. It is cheesy and contrived, but when you wear the button, every employee you encounter will comment on it: “Are they treating you well this Mothers’ Day!” “Have a happy Birthday, Joshua!” “Happy Anniversary! How many years?” Housekeeping. The stroller attendant. The fast food server. It is remarkable. And when you hear that all day long, it starts to feel like a really. special. day.

Sorcerer’s Scavenger Hunt – The Magic Kingdom has a new-to-us program that allows kids to seek-and-find special points of interest throughout the park. It was perfect for our almost-8-yr-old who loves Pokemon cards and is not big on character meet-and-greets. You sign up next to City Hall near the entrance to the MK.

Car – We had a car this time because we were transferring between non-Disney hotels, but that’s about the only time we used it. The Boardwalk has a general store that sells basic groceries, so we used that to buy bread, milk, eggs, cereal, etc. The Contemporary had that too. (I’m not sure about other resorts.) And it was faster to walk or monorail to the parks than drive. Driving our car or taking the bus to MK were each > 45min door-to-door.

Boardwalk – We LOVED it. We could walk to Epcot’s World Showcase (5min) and walk to Hollywood Studios (12min) or take the monorail from Epcot to MK. We also loved the stores, restaurants, and entertainers along the Boardwalk itself. We had a newly-renovated villa (same layout as pre-reno). Isaac stayed in the bedroom closet, Noah and Aaron in the bedroom, and Josh and I on the pullout in the family room. We had a full kitchen so I made eggs, etc in the mornings, packed lunches, and stored leftovers there. I also did laundry most days because we were so sunscreened and sweaty. We still love Bay Lake if you can get it for less than a mint, but if Boardwalk stays cheaper, I’d stay there again in a heartbeat. Maybe by renting from the DVC.

Our 1-bedroom villa with full kitchen, separated bathroom (shower/sink/toilet in one, bath/sink in other), king bed, queen bed, pack-n-play, high chair, balcony, and night light. I've heard the studios don't have the washer/dryer or stove/oven.

Attire - This trip was the first time I deliberately bought clothes, hats, and sunglasses for our trip. I wanted hats/sunglasses that my unreasonable children would actually wear all week (and all summer, for that matter), and I thought it would be easier to stay together and find each other in crowds if we wore similar shirts (got them for $2-6/each at Walmart and Kohls). The hats/sunglasses did help save us from the FL sun (without the usual parent-child negotiations) and the shirts also inspired some extra excitement and bonding. NEITHER is necessary if you're already overwhelmed, but they were a fun/useful addition this time.

I'll add tips here if I think of them later. In the meantime, on to the fun stuff! Pics coming soon...

Why We Do Disney

Hot buttons. You know, the subjects that bring out the passionate opinions in all of us? The amoral topics for which we have stronger convictions than we do about actual morality? Food. Social media. Parenting. Disney.

Yes. Disney – and specifically Walt Disney World (WDW).

In my experience, there are 2 common responses to any mention of visiting WDW with young children:

1) encouragement and bonding from those who've done it or want to or plan to, OR

2) mild scorn from those who think you're crazy or over-indulgent to even consider it.

Since I’ve gradually been dragged from camp #2 to camp #1 by my loving partner-in-crime, I’ve decided to explain a few of the reasons I've consented to tackle this particular beast multiple times...and secretly learned to love it.

But first, I think it needs to be said that I do NOT believe everyone has to visit WDW or that your children will be deprived if they never go. Mine will never do many amazing things, and I’m not worried. My goal here is to encourage those contemplating a visit (camp #1) and help those in camp #2 understand the freaks-like-me in camp #1 a little better (or if that freak is your partner...ahem…).

Reasons I Love Taking My Youngins to WDW

1. It IS magical for young kids. They don't think it's corny or fake or overpriced - they think it's miraculous. Where a young child's age can be a liability on any other kind of vacation, it is an asset here. 

2. Every activity tells a story using art, music, characters, etc. No ride is just a thrill or just an educational objective - it conveys the thrill or lesson as part of a bigger narrative. It's not just an aquarium, it's "The Seas with Nemo & Friends." It's not just a log flume, it's Brier Rabbit's Splash Mountain. It's not just a tree-house, it's Swiss Family Robinson's. Here, the world is a tapestry of contexts and characters and stories. Which is true in the real world, but a lot less obvious.

3. There are perky, helpful, indulgent staff EVERYWHERE. It is the anti-Walmart. While checking-in to our hotel, there were 2-3 staff gathered around my kids giving them stickers and balloons and explaining the seahorses in the chandelier (hippocampuses, turns out). When I couldn't find our stroller after dinner, I stopped an employee who looked like he was getting ready to go home -- he stayed with me until I found it. When my son asked if the Peter Pan he was about to meet would fly, the line-guard replied, "No, this is a no-fly zone because of all the fireworks." And it hasn't been one time or one park - it's been everywhere. The staff cannot all love kids as much as they pretend to, but I don't care. 

4. There is entertainment for every early childhood developmental stage all over the place. If you have multiple kids, you have multiple stages in your family. That actually works here. For 0-3yr olds, the parks are littered with street performers and outdoor shows and character statues and character meet-and-greets and parades to keep even the youngest set entertained. I spent a lot of time with my sensitive 2-yr-old this visit while Josh took the 44" and 48" boys on every ride (not a sacrifice for me - I'm no fan of fast rides either). Isaac could handle some rides, but WDW is also the king of serendipity. Just today we happened on a butterfly house, Beauty and the Beast sculpted from plants, a magician, and an impromptu dance lesson. Then we got creme brûlée from France and walked home for naptime.

5. The facilities are designed around children and their parents. For example, the pools at Disney resorts have giant statues of Disney characters, slides, toddler life-vests, and numerous lifeguards. There is a baby care center in each park for nursing or buying diapers, diaper-changing stations in every restroom, and water fountains all over. Even viewing windows for animals/fish/etc are just off the ground or above a bench so really short people can see. You can roll a stroller everywhere (including the monorail or boats) or they provide an attended stroller lot if you can't (except the buses, which I studiously avoid). And all the table service restaurants are kid-friendly (loud/busy enough to cover your kids’ antics, coloring menus, kids’ meals including drink+entrée+sides = $6.50). 

6. As adults, we love it too. I honestly can't tell how much of this is because we grew up coming, because we know and love so many Disney stories, or because we aren't big camping/beach people (and those seem to be the major alternatives). But I can say we spent a week at WDW around our 1^st anniversary, and it was awesome. Now, we love it for all of those reasons PLUS the real kicker: watching our kids’ wonder and happiness as they discover each attraction. I mean, just look at that face...and his, too! ;)

Common Objections

I know these well because I’m pretty sure I’ve uttered each of them at some point. Here’s how I’ve come to think about them now…

1.   They won’t remember it.

I remember very little of my childhood – including international trips when I was a teenager – but research and common sense continues to prove that all of our experiences shape who we are, no matter our age. Besides, Josh and I remember our trips with our kids, and we have no problem admitting that we go as much for our joy in taking them as for their joy in being there. Which brings up the next one…

2.   Wouldn’t they be just as happy with ____[something smaller].

Maybe. But Josh and I would not. We can tell the difference between WDW and anything else. And I’m pretty sure they can too. They also refer to and ask for WDW far more than anything else we’ve ever done. Which is not to say everyone has to do it! Just that it’s not interchangeable with any other outing. I also do not find that it diminishes their ability to enjoy other/smaller things. My kids seem to recognize that WDW is a WHOLE OTHER THING. They still love spending the night in any hotel or seeing a show at the local library.

3.   It’s too expensive.

It is expensive. No doubt. Any vacation for a family of 5 that does not involve a tent or grandparents is not gonna be cheap. But it can also be tailored to your budget. We’ve figured out where to save and where to splurge for our family – those preferences are probably different for everyone. Perhaps the biggest blessing/curse of planning a trip to WDW is that there are SO MANY CHOICES a.k.a. ways to personalize it for you.

4.   I want to relax on my vacation!

You can choose to do WDW in 2 days and run yourself ragged, but WDW doesn’t recommend that and neither do I. Still, if you just need R&R to recover from a stressful season, I’d recommend something kid-free (“Grandma!”). I’m not sure I’ve heard of a completely relaxing trip that involved small children.

Okay, so now that we’ve covered the "Why" we can get to the "How"! Tomorrow.

Books for Little Boys

As a committed book worm, I get lots of requests for book recommendations for little boys. And really, I love that question. But rather than re-invent the wheel each time, I realized it might be helpful to post a few lists.

With caveats:
1) I have all boys. These lists may work for girls, too. I can tell you *I* enjoyed them, but I give no guarantees.
2) My oldest is 7.5yrs and has a remarkable attention span and reading comprehension level. I did NOTHING to make this happen. He's always been this way. But it means my impressions of "age-appropriate" may be skewed. I can only tell you from my experience.
3) My second is 5.5yrs and LOVES stories and so even though he struggles in other areas, narrative is one of his greatest passions and strengths.
4) My third is all about Sandra Boynton, so I really only have a sample of 2 at the moment.
5) THIS IS NOT A TO-DO LIST! All you guilt-ridden mamas out there can relax. Your kids do NOT have to read these books to be awesome. Ever. This is not a checklist. It is only meant to be helpful if you're looking for ideas.
6) My boys haven't read these themselves - we've read to them (or played the audio), usually before bed or in the car, and partially because I'd far rather read with them than play cars, legos, ninjas, or football.

I'll list each group in order of the age my boys started liking them... (i.e. youngest to oldest)

Favorite Picture Books
Mostly from Dolly Parton's phenomenal Imagination Library...

Any Sandra Boynton
Any Dr. Seuss
Noah's Crew Came 2 by 2 by MacDonald
Slide-and-Find Trucks by Priddy
Thomas the Tank Engine's Hidden Surprises by Yee
Firefighters to the Rescue by Hamilton
Taking Care of Mama by Modarressi
My Little Train by Ichikawa
Read to Tiger by Fore
Roar of a Snore by Arnold
Toot & Puddle series by Hobby
My Lucky Day by Kasza
The Spiffiest Giant in Town by Donaldson
May I See the King by Daubenspeck
Pretend by Plecas
The Tale of Pip & Squeak by Duke
If I Built a Car (or House) by Van Dusen
Let's Do Nothing! by Fucile
A Year in a Castle by Coombs
Where the Sidewalk Ends by Silverstein
Amelia Bedelia by Parish
The Book With No Pictures by Novak
Betty Bunny by Kaplan
Dino-Football by Wheeler
Pirate Diary: The Journal of Jake Carpenter by Platt
Any Lego Encyclopedias (sigh)

Favorite Chapter Books
We started these when my oldest was getting bored with picture books. My favorites series of junior classics is by Dalmatian Press and sometimes $1/book at Target (I'll put an * by these).

Charlotte's Web by White
Stuart Little by White
The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by DiCamillo
The Jungle Book by Kipling*
Treasure Island by Stevenson*
Pinocchio by Collodi*
Doctor Dolittle by Lofting*
101 Dalmatians by Smith
Pippi Longstocking by Lindgren
The Trumpet of the Swan by White
Black Beauty by Davage*
Fantastic Mr. Fox by Dahl
The Tale of Despereaux by DiCamillo
Anne of Green Gables by Montgomery
The Prince and Pauper by Twain
Farmer Boy by Wilder
Hardy Boys by Dixon
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Dahl
Guinness Book of World Records
The Secret Garden by Burnett*
Nancy Drew by Keen (I was surprised to find these trend a little older than Hardy Boys)
Moby Dick by Melville*
White Fang by London*
Call of the Wild by London*
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Verne*
Oliver Twist*
Mary Poppins by Travers
Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH
The Hobbit by Tolkein

Favorite Audio Books
I'm a die-hard audiobook fan because I can "read" while doing housework or driving and I can "read" to the boys when I've lost my voice. I have passed this on to my boys whether they liked it or not. ;) We have many CDs that we play in the car or on a CD-player in the boys' bedroom, or I stream audiobooks from my phone (via our library) to a bluetooth speaker in my kitchen or my car.

Frog & Toad by Lobel
Dr. Seuss Collection (read by Dustin Hoffman, Kelsey Grammar, Billy Crystal, etc)
Curious George by Rey
The Wind in the Willows by Grahame
Frances by Hoban
Paddington by Bond
Henry Huggins by Cleary (read by Neil Patrick Harris)
Ralph S. Mouse by Cleary
Magic Treehouse by Osborne
Pippi Longstocking by Londgren
Ballpark Mysteries by Kelly
Knights' Tales by Morris
Chronicles of Narnia (starting with L,W,&W) by Lewis

Never Finished
These are a few I've tried that "didn't take" for whatever reason. Some we may revisit later. There are many more that I didn't bother to record.

Tom Sawyer by Twain
Peter Pan by Barrie
Matilda by Dahl
Junie B. Jones by Park

Acknowledgements: I need to give credit to my sister-in-law whose boys are 8 and 10yrs old and who consistently posts their book reviews on Goodreads.com. This has been and will continue to be a goldmine for me. It's also where I keep track of what we've read - and how I was able to create these lists. I do not have this good a memory!

That said, suggestions? Recommendations? What should we put on our To-Read list?

Fighting the Fog

For the last few years, Josh and I have been navigating what feels like a really foggy road. Parenthood alone is pretty foggy, especially with the first child. What comes next? What should we expect? How should we prepare? react?

Still, when you're driving down the highway in the center lane, it's not too bad. You're surrounded by other cars and there are street lights and you basically just follow the dotted lines and the taillights in front of you. Besides, every map in the world shows the highway. If you get confused, just ask Siri. If you're stumped on a parenting issue, just ask the gazillion other parents, books, blogs, teachers, etc that have raised or taught a normal kid. It feels fraught with danger, but the stats are in your favor.

Then a few years ago, Josh and I started to wonder if we were still in the center lane with one of our kids. We'd encountered some potholes early on - meningitis at 3 weeks, torticollis the first year - but thanks to modern medicine, they seemed resolved by the time he turned two. That's when other red flags started to appear - not talking because he couldn't be understood, not being able to answer common questions. It was SO hard to tell what we should expect, when to raise the alarm. At 2.5, we asked his preschool teachers and were surprised to learn they had concerns, too. We called Tennessee Early Intervention Services for an evaluation. He qualified enough to win the label "developmental delay" and free therapy from the state.

Still, speech therapy is common enough. You help them learn how to talk, and suddenly they start to become an open book. Conversation feeds the cognitive - and everything else. And we did see incredible advancement. Maybe we were still middle-of-the-road; He was just a late bloomer.

Besides, HE IS SO SCRUMPTIOUSLY ADORABLE. SO lovable. So charming. (Except when he's not.) He's smart. He's capable. He's hilarious. He brings joy to our family. And not just to our family - to our community. The impish smiles. The playful habits. The excitement over everything.

For a while, it's really hard to tell you're off the highway. Sometimes I still feel like I've imagined it, like maybe I've made too much of his quirks, or gathered his weaknesses into a list that would make any normal child appear worse off than he is. What if we hadn't done anything different? Would he have risen to meet our expectations? It's almost like my wishful thinking haunts me.

But it's not based in fact. The screening tests, the school district evaluations, the doctors, the therapists, the teachers. They're not spinning the facts or trumping up the data. We are on a different road, and no one knows where it is on the map or what it's called. And it just feels SO foggy.

How can I possibly know which doctors we should be seeing? The pediatrician sent us to the developmental pediatrician who sent me back to the schools (because they do the tests for free) and made an appointment with pediatric neurology. I walked into the neurologists' office confused about what they do and why we were there, only to have her look at me with the same questions. We've seen a pediatric geneticist who measured the width between his teeth and thickness of his fingernails. And that's not to mention the various trips to the ped ENTs last year. And in every case, they've turned to me at some point and said, What do you think? What do you want to do? AS IF I HAVE ANY IDEA. Granted, they've all turned out to be a little more helpful in the long run than I gave them credit for at the time. But I still felt so lost making these decisions, and I'm married to a doctor.

Plus, that's just the "medical" route. When his teachers hand me his Individualized Education Plan (IEP), I might as well be reading Greek. And I was an education major! Then they ask if I want to sign off on it. As if I have an opinion on exactly how many times he should be able to draw a circle without lifting his pencil. I don't even know how to tell if his therapies are helping.

And it all blew up in my face two weeks ago. After three years of extensive services from our local school, we were suddenly told that while issues remain, he is no longer eligible for services. He's too smart. He knows too much. He doesn't qualify under "developmental delay." THIS IS GREAT NEWS. Truly. I wanted to celebrate and stop analyzing him and just hit cruise control for once. He's smart! We can take the easy road. But my whole body was rebelling, shouting at me, Then why does this still NOT LOOK LIKE THE HIGHWAY?? 

Just last week, I sat down and listed the issues that concern me with specific and recent examples of each one. It almost killed me, creating such a partial picture of him (may God spare me from ever having to see such a list of my struggles all in one place). And at the end, I still couldn't tell what to make of it all. He's 5 1/2 now. What is normal for a 5 1/2-year-old? What's developmental stage vs delay? Personality vs disorder? Is there a diagnoses that ties it all together? One universal theory of everything? Have I missed talking to the one professional who could have found the pattern? Maybe we need to explore string theory.

Still, in these last two weeks when I have felt especially vulnerable, God has sent five people into my path to rescue my brain from the muddle of being too close to the situation...
1) A friend with a child receiving special education services in my district.
2) A friend with a child who was disqualified from special education despite his need.
3) A parent who knows the school system and my child enough to see where the wires were crossing.
4) A student advocate from Arc, a FREE service for parents navigating public special education services. I should have called them SOONER. S-O-O-N-E-R.
5) Our beloved pediatrician, who sat next to us in Sunday school, stayed after to discuss, took the documents home at night, and called me after hours to go over it all.

After umpteen phone calls, emails, medical appointments, copying test results, shuttling paperwork around town, and making use of that awful-but-incredibly-helpful list, I can finally see the road again. It's not the highway. I don't know if it ever will be, but it's solid. We're still not certain what to call it, but with some more calls/emails/appointments/tests/paperwork, we should be able to get him the services he needs to keep progressing in the right direction. That's my cautious hope.

Can I see the road ahead clearly? No. Will it be messy? Yes...

• Part of me wants the labels so we can get him the services he needs to be successful. The other part of me hates the labels that make him sound a little less than the healthy, bright, capable, charming boy he is. 
• Part of me wants to keep doing tests till we crack the code and figure out why and how. The other part of me fears what the tests will do to his peace of mind and self-image; it's getting harder to explain to him why we're going to another doctor, another test.
• Part of me is thankful our other kids are sticking to the main highway for now. The other part of me doesn't know how to spread my attention evenly and respond to the differences in effort and achievement as they become more obvious (especially to them).  
• Part of me doesn't want to talk about it for fear people will see him differently. The other part of me knows that people not talking about these things is what makes these roads so much foggier and lonelier.
• Part of me wants to let the professionals tell me what to do. The other part of me wonders if the professionals know what's best for him.

But do I? That's what gets me the most. I feel so incompetent. And I don't even know how to become competent or how competent I should reasonably expect to be. And he's such a treasure. If you know him, you know he lights up a room when he walks into it. He is a joy to have in our home. Please hear me: I LOVE being his mother. I wouldn't trade it for anything. My stress is not about him; it's about me. I don't want to fail him, but I can't be an expert in everything for him.

Eventually, I usually end up where I probably should have begun: Praying. I've been praying a lot more lately. And asking others to pray for me. Because the only way I can really handle the responsibility of being a parent in moments like this is believing that God is in control, that He gave me this child in good conscience, that He loves him even more than I do, and that He won't let me foil His purposes in this precious boy's life.