***if you missed yesterday’s post, read that first

I have nothing against the minivan…really…I drive a Chevy Malibu station wagon..I’m not going for sexy. I know we have come a long way since the days of the 1970’s panel van. In fact a minivan with seat warmers, big cup holders, a 6 CD changer and a nice DVD doesn’t sound too bad….

Minivan…just getting used to the word.

Minivan…say it slowly…it sounds kind of nice…. miniminiminivaaaaaannnnnn…

A good friend read my blog today and had a very important question.

“Heather, I have two inquisitive kiddos (and another one on the way) I can totally see us being the other mom in this situation and the two of them arguing over the baby in the stroller. Ideally, what would you want the other mom to do, or to say?”

“I have no idea.”

She laughed “Well that’s not very helpful.”

“The kids didn’t bother me, they weren’t being hurtful. It just triggered something in me…a thought about how Samantha is percieved. It did bother me that the mom seemed to ignore the situation. Kids are curious, I get that but I think the parent should have been a little more aware.”

“No standard perfect statement?”

“I wish. Because it depends on me too. Sometimes I’m up for a teaching moment about Samantha. Sometimes I just can’t be bothered. I’m a complex creature.”

We didn’t come away with any resolution but I really appreciated the question. It reminded me that most of us are just trying to do what’s right…or at least get through the day without annoying too many fellow neighbors.

Sometimes that’s a mighty tall order.

Minivan.

I was at a craft store on Saturday with Samantha. I have signed up for my second sewing class because I refused to be so intimidated by an appliance.

I am very intimidated by my sewing machine.

I had Samantha bundled up in her BOB stroller, the canopy was over her head so all you could see was her cute little feet.

Two little girls behind me are arguing…..”Look at the baby.”

“That’s not a baby, she’s too big to be a baby.”

“Well then why is she in a stroller?”

“I don’t know. Mom? Why is the little girl in a stroller?” (Mom ignores the question)

“She’s not a little girl, she’s a baby!”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Mooooommmmmm, ask that Lady if her baby is a baby or not.”

Oh good Lord. All this just to learn how to run my Singer. I really don’t think it’s worth it. I look back at the mom and give her my Really??? look.

She doesn’t seem to notice because she was on the phone. So I did my best to ignore them all. Other times I might turn and explain to the kids that Samantha is in her stroller because she can’t walk, etc, etc. But some days I just don’t want to explain our situation. Today was one of those days.

I have slowly been coming to terms that we need to get certain things for Samantha as she becomes older. We now have nursing care two days a week, we are looking into moving into a house where Samantha’s room can be on the first floor…

All because she is getting bigger.

And I am looking into a wheelchair. We have a ‘seating system’ for Samantha at school so she can sit with her peers. I keep it at school because it’s big, bulky and just doesn’t work for quick trips into the craft store.

I love our BOB. It folds up, it’s light. I can plop Samantha in there and she can wiggle until her hearts content. AND it has a weight limit of 60 pounds!!!

I probably couldn’t justify putting a 60 pound Samantha in the BOB. She’s 30 pounds now and it seems to strike a debate at the craft store.

After our stroller encounter, I met a group of friends at a 6-year olds’ birthday party.

“We need to get Samantha a wheelchair.” I said

“Oooohhhhh, I’m sorry, ” said a friend. She then frowned and caught herself. “Why did I just react like that?”

I laughed at her honesty. “Probably because I feel the same way.”

Not that it’s bad. Not that we don’t need it; we do. But that our life is moving into another space. A space that is a little more complicated. A space that means I can’t plan appointments too close to each other because I will need a little more time…time to load and unload a bigger Samantha. Who is, by the way, not a baby

It means we might have to buy a minivan. It means I will become a mom, minivan driver.

Crap.

So, the wheels are in motion. We have contacted our durable medical equipment company for a wheelchair for Samantha. It should take about six months for approval and delivery.

By then I’ll probably have my head wrapped around the idea.

Mama was about to post her relief that the tree was put away, ribbons were picked up and stockings packed for another season. But no Mama! You can’t close up the season without posting my Christams extravaganza!

Tell me again about this Christmas thing….

Santa?

Presents?

I guess presents are okay…

Elmo from Santa is my favorite

The family showed up Christmas Eve

And all heck broke loose!

Pops and Uncle Ryan

Aunt Jen

Pops and Nonnie and their book…

Santa surprised Mama Christmas morning with a bike!

Sadly, my photographer forgot to snap some Christmas Day photos (he gets distracted!) Christmas Day was lovely with Grandma Judi and Grandpa Jim. Here they are at one of my first Christmas activities…the Nutcracker!

A week later Mama said I had to put my dancin’ shoes on once again. Here’s New Year’s Eve….

A little ‘adult beverage’

In-depth conversation…

Time with the boys

Snogs for me

And for the puppy

Ended the year right where I wanted to be!

After a lovely evening with friends, Hubby, Samantha and I got home just in time to welcome the new year.

Hubby and I lit a candle and opened the front door to let out 2009 and bring in 2010.

“Goodbye 2009,” I said.

“It was a pretty good year,” said Hubby.

And we blew out the candle.

I love this man who can endure so many TCH stays and still consider it a good year. He is my silent muse and reminds me of what is important.

To health, to family, to friends and to finding the good.

Happy 2010