“What’s your favorite shape?” Elijah was asking everyone at the table. Last night it was “only” NG, his sister and the four of us. We didn’t even need the extra leaf in our dining table, which was good because when we have the leaf it actually makes our dining room look like the table came first and the room was built around it. Barely.

After many of us had answered, Elijah turned to Jordyn, “What’s your favorite shape Jordyn?”

“Diamonds!” she exclaimed and we all laughed. While laughing, I immediately thought whoever her future partner is, that person is in a lot of trouble and maybe should start saving now.

Only a few minutes later it was Elijah’s turn. Somehow he had gotten ketchup in his hair (“somehow” meaning…he put his ketchup covered hand in his hair, you know, that “somehow”) and NG ‘s sister and Gem were teasing him about it.

“You’re going to be Hot Dog Boy,” one of them told him.

“I’m Hot Boy,” he said creatively, since, in fact, he is not a dog.

Every adult at the table said, “Yes, you certainly are Hot Boy, Elijah!”

Two adorable moments lost on the Okapis, but thoroughly enjoyed by the adults.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Elijah exclaimed at the dinner table. “I want Tia to go with me.”

“Elijah, you know at the dinner table if you have to go to the bathroom, you go by yourself.” We had a problem with them using the potty as a way to get out of eating; having them go by themselves solved that pretty quickly.

But even knowing this, my little boy’s face started to fall apart and he got upset. “But I can’t turn the light on,” he explained.

“You’re absolutely right, Elijah. We’ll turn the light on for you,” I told him feeling a little like the guy from those Motel 6 commercials.

One of the 85 people in our house turned the light on for him and we all continued eating.

“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” Gem called out to him.

Another few moments…We’re all sitting at the table, listening to my Dave Matthews Band, India Arie, Alicia Keys and Jill Scott Playlist when we hear his little voice.

“You forgot the soap,” he complained.

NG (new guy living in our house) and his sister had started working on the bathroom already and removed the wallpaper. Gem had taken everything out of there so it wouldn’t be in the way or get dirty.

So Gem got him the soap.

Another few moments…Still sitting at the table eating and listening when once again we heard his little voice from the bathroom.

“But you forgot the towels!” he said all confused.

Right! The towels were also removed. So Gem raced to get him a towel.

When he came back out we congratulated him on such a great job – particularly with all of the challenges he faced. I couldn’t help but think how old my boy is getting. He just went to the bathroom with no help. It wasn’t that long ago when I thought he would never get out of diapers.

I think everyone at the table was touched by the way he called out for the things he needed, the sound of his little voice, a little frustrated, a little confused, trying to do what we want him to do without the things we’re supposed to provide him. But he didn’t cry about it and he didn’t give up.

It was one of those moments that affected everyone present, but for different reasons, reasons none of us discussed, but we all knew we were experiencing in our own way.

Maybe that is one of the special things about family.

The brain is a pretty amazing thing – the way we handle stress, the way it handles trauma is quite incredible – even to the point of blocking it out so that we can function in daily life. Every single day my brain recreated my life, filing away memories in a locked drawer, filling in blank moments in time with filler, as if my brain had a Hollywood producer editing out scenes audiences wouldn’t like and keeping the ones they would. But like many Hollywood sets, this edited film of my life was delicate – if I ever looked around the corner, I would’ve quickly realized it was all one big façade.

As a freshman at college, I was sitting in a Psych 101 class – my first Psych class ever after having waited to take one since I was nine years old (yes, the same time I started my own therapy not coincidentally enough) - and a fellow student had asked if our professor would ever treat children.

“It depends. At that age, children are still products of their parents.” (more…)

Appropo of nothing, last year I ran a football pool where everybody picked every game of every week and there were weekly winners and a season long winner. I also write what have been termed  - depending upon who you ask - “pithy” or “witty” or “hilarious” or “sarcastic” emails every week to let you know who won, who’s winning for the season, what you should remember about the next week and some of the most random things I can possibly think of. Think of it as Two Okapis without anything possibly depressing hahahahahahahaha.

I’ll be happy to send you an invite if you think you might be interested. Just send me an email.

For those who are not, we will never speak of this again and will resume our regularly scheduled programming as soon as possible.

It is really beginning to take its toll on both of us. In the past 2.5 weeks or so, Jordyn’s behavior has taken a significant turn for the worse. My precious little girl has never been an easy child. Her bad moments were bad, but her good moments were quite amazing. Now, we seem to be experiencing most of the bad moments while she shares the good ones with others (so people can think we’re pathetic parents for saying how exhausted and drained we are by her).

Jordyn can now go from 0 to 160 in less than two seconds. Everything can be fine and then BAM! She’s screaming, throwing her head back or dropping to the floor, “BUT I WANTED to do that!”as if we were saying “no” to her request to continue breathing the air that allows her to live instead of whether she gets to wear a dress on a cold, rainy day (which she doesn’t). Sometimes the outburst is one mini explosion and then she calms down. Often times it lasts for several minutes or even longer.

(more…)

“I WANT ICE CREAM! I WANT ICE CREAM!” Jordyn is screaming at the top of her lungs, while she is pounding on the table and throwing her head back against the seat almost slamming it against the wall. I know everyone in Friendly’s is either looking at me or thinking, “What the hell kind of father is he? Not giving her ice cream at Friendly’s?” but I did not look around. I was too busy trying to figure out how to deal with Jordyn and her atrocious behavior while not punishing Elijah who had been behaving so wonderfully.

The evening had started off pretty well. For some reason I had worn a very nice shirt to work that morning, but instead of worrying about getting it dirty with two preschoolers at Friendly’s, I smartly asked Gem to bring me another shirt I could change into. It is the little things like that where I feel like I am thinking outside the box, thinking outside the limitations of my brain, giving me a chance for a fun evening. I was pretty excited about the time with my Okapis and just as excited about having a Reese’s Pieces Sundae with extra peanut butter sauce. I had been thinking and looking forward to it all week. In fact, after we ordered our dinner, we spent several minutes examining all of the sundaes and discussing the kinds of ice cream we wanted. Then they spent a couple of minutes trying to make up their own sundaes.

But when the food came, it became clear Jordyn was not going to make this easy. (more…)