A Magical Day

A trip to the Alpine Bavarian village of Leavenworth on The Snow Train earlier this month was scripted perfectly. The five of us (Clark in particular was happy to be included in this excursion) arose very early for a Saturday to be downtown at the train station by 7:30. We boarded, found our seats and waited for departure time at 8:30. Before our world started changing color we made two stops, picking up more passengers, ate a box breakfast and were entertained by a magician and a variety of singers and musicians who passed through our car. Then began the slow climb to over 4,000 feet with increasing snow flurries coloring the landscape white. By the time we disembarked at Leavenworth it was a winter wonderland with carolers caroling and chestnuts roasting and snow quickly piling up on our heads. There was a festive mood as we wandered through shops, sampled chestnuts, listened to music, ate Wiener schnitzel and red cabbage at Café Christa (except Clark and Phil who wanted hamburgers and fries) and watched the snowflakes fall all afternoon. At 4:45 we gathered with thousands in the town square to listen to Christmas songs (not Santa songs), to unite in prayer and to watch Christmas lights come on along store fronts and in the trees. It was like a Currier and Ives Christmas card day and we enjoyed it as a family in a peaceful, white world.

Back at the train station.

The Bowling Christmas Party

Yesterday was the annual Christmas party at the bowling alley after they had bowled three games. Paul and I took Clark and Phil so I went inside to watch them bowl. Phil is exuberant (joyously unrestrained and enthusiastic according to Webster—a perfect description) in his approach and then in releasing the ball with speed and power. Clark, on the other hand, walks to the line, plants his feet, and throws the ball, also with power. As I watched them I thought about the importance of exercise for them with the added bonus of participating with peers. I looked around and realized they are not the youngest nor the oldest. They are not the best bowlers nor are they the worse. They are inconsistent (bowling 60 one game and 126 the next) but so are most of the others. And they are as happy with the 60 game as they are with the 126 game. They don’t know what perfection in bowling is nor do they care. They have learned about taking turns, cheering others on, taking care of their possessions (their own bowling balls and shoes which were gifts at Christmas a few years ago), and paying $5 each week with their own money. What a great place for them to be each Saturday morning from August to February.

What party with pizza, salad and cake would not be a success? Add a visit from Santa and a gift and it can’t be beat.

Special Musical Number

A men’s chorus sang a special musical number in church last week. And the conductor was none other than Phil. I watched the men as they walked up to the choir seats, many with smiles on their faces, with Phil leading the way. As soon as they all assembled in front of the congregation, Phil turned his head, checking to see if anyone else was coming, and then he signaled for them to sit down. And they did. Then he paused. On signal he had them stand up. And they did. Then he threw his arms open wide and on the down beat they began “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet” a cappella. Phil had been talking about this day all week—the day the men would sing and he would conduct. I noticed before they went up to sing that Phil had turned to the right page in the hymnal and had his baton out. Phil is famous for the unexpected but he didn’t turn and bow at the conclusion. Paul thought he might. If Paul were a nail biter he would not have had any fingernails. Compliments came as I left to go to Sunday School. I smiled as I thought of this community who has helped to give Phil his confidence, opportunities to participate and a sense of belonging.

Where Is the Soap?

Yesterday I went into what we call the “boys’ bathroom”. The shower door was open so I could see there was no soap in the soap dish—bottles of shampoo, one for each, but no soap. I would get to the bottom of this I determined. “Clark, when you take a shower each morning, what do you use to wash yourself with?” “Water.” “Water? How long has this been going on?” my mind yelled, not in anger but in disbelief. I distinctly remember teaching them to bathe with soap. “Philip, when you take a shower, what do you use to wash yourself with?” “Shampoo.” Well, at least that was soap. I couldn’t believe it. When did they stop using hand soap? I felt like a negligent mother who hadn’t noticed something so simple and basic like not using soap when they showered. Of course I haven’t personally supervised showering since they got old enough to start shaving but Paul has. Where else have I failed and when will I notice? This morning a smiling Clark came to me with his hand extended and in his palm was a bar of soap. It is a good thing that it is not too late to make a change. I just need to remember to check the soap dish in the “boys’ bathroom” periodically.

"A Present for Me?"

A week ago Paul and I were in Las Vegas for my nephew’s wedding. In the days leading up to our departure Clark was a wreck. “I go with you please.” “No, Clark, just Dad and I are going.” “Please. I’ll be good. I’ll be nice. You’re lucky you get to go.” The frequency of this conversation increased in number as the day of departure approached. Finally we were in bed, late, with the alarm set for 3:30 a.m. so we could make a 6:00 a.m. flight. Under the door a sheet of paper appeared. This was Clark’s way of apologizing for getting upset because he couldn’t go.

We called home a few times to make sure all was well. “A present for me?” Clark asked. “You’ll have to wait and see.” I told him. When we arrived home it was one of the first questions both Clark and Phil asked. Since this wasn’t a long trip we actually hadn’t bought anything but of course I didn’t tell them that. I had leftover Halloween candy they didn’t know about that would please them as much as anything so I put together two bundles of tootsie rolls. When Clark saw his bundle his face lit up “Thank you Mom.” and with that he gave me a big hug and then removed one and gave it to me before he even ate one himself.

We arrived home late Monday night and then we were leaving Wednesday. I was lecturing on fragile X at Centralia Community College Wednesday night and then we were spending the night in Olympia at our daughter’s. All day Tuesday requests to go with us came from Clark. The conversation sounded much the same as it had the previous week. “No Clark. We’ll only be gone overnight.” While we were reading in bed Tuesday night Clark came in and started dusting our bedroom as he talked about how nice he is. The next morning before we left he was in our room dusting again and this time vacuuming as well. Finally my heart was softened and I gave in. “Okay Clark you can go with us but you have to shower and pack and be ready to go in 30 minutes.” And he was. We had a discussion about appropriate behavior at the lecture since he would see pictures of him (as well as Phil) and would hear me talk about him. He was amazing. He sat on the front row by himself for two hours (Paul was on the back row) with his baseball hat on and his hands clasped together. It was definitely the right thing to do—to take him with us. We celebrated after with ice cream at McDonalds. This is his thank you note for letting him go with us.

Instructions That Came with the Bread Maker

1. Plug in the bread maker.
2. Pour in the ingredients.
3. Choose setting.
4. Pull the machine close to the edge of the counter.
5. Push start and let the fun begin.

A Sweet Thank You

Phil came into the study where I was at the computer. He was laughing excitedly as he pasted something on my back and then ran out. I reached back and peeled off an envelope.
"What is the thank you for?" I asked the still excited Phil who had reappeared at the door.

"For cutting my hair."

I told him that was one of the sweetest thank yous I had ever received. It brightened my day.

(Sondays is Sonny, a name I call Phil.)