Three Weeks to Go

Is the end of the school year killing anyone else? I feel like I have two or three events to fit in every single day for the last three weeks of school. With three kids in three schools, that means that I don’t even get to kill three birds with one stone. I have three spring concerts. Three end of the year parties. Sixty-five field trips.

Seriously. These kids go on a LOT of field trips.

That doesn’t even include Geo Bowls, regular volunteer gigs, and 504 meetings.

This week alone, there was that great concert at Jack’s school, a field trip for Jack and a field trip for Quinn, and a performance of Shakespeare’s The Tempest by Sam’s fifth grade class.

I have to tell you, I think the play wins for best event of the week. It was phenomenal. Sam’s teacher created this fantastic 40-minute adaptation of The Tempest that the entire class took part in. It was absolutely amazing.

I took both Jack and Quinn out of school so they could go with me to watch, partly because I wouldn’t have gotten home in time to pick them up from school after the play and partly because they really wanted to go.

I wasn’t sure about their attention span and how well they would follow, you know, Shakespeare, but they both sat quietly on the floor and watched, rapt. Watching them in the audience was nearly as good for me as watching Sam in the play.

I don't have great photos of Sam in the play, but trust me, he was a star.

I don’t have great photos of Sam in the play, but trust me, he was a star.

I was beyond impressed by this fifth grade class. Every one of them did so well. Afterward, I could barely restrain Jack until the audience (made up of the other classes in Sam’s school) left because he was all, “I want to go hug Sam!”

(I did too.)

Methinks Jack was a little starstruck.

Methinks Jack was a little starstruck.

It was all very cool. Also, I feel I should let you know that I didn’t even read Shakespeare until I was in 9th grade. Kids these days.

After yesterday’s theater experience, today I chaperoned the second grade field trip to the Natural History Museum. Parts of it were a lot of fun. Quinn made it about 3/4 of the way through before he melted down.

I think I took this photo on the cusp between "Field trips are fun! I am having a great time!" and "I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW."

I think I took this photo on the cusp between “Field trips are fun! I am having a great time!” and “I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW.”

Quinn pretty seriously lost his shit right in the middle of the dinosaur exhibit. Poor guy.

Before we embark on next week’s many elementary school adventures, we’re talking a little Memorial Day weekend vacation to Hershey Park. This will be my kids’ first time at an amusement park. I imagine that is will go spectacularly.

Spectacularly good or spectacularly bad, that remains to be seen.

Honestly, considering my family, we’ll probably have a little bit of both. And that’s perfectly all right by me.

Jean and Jack Day

It’s not too late to talk about Mother’s Day, is it? Because I’d really like to talk about Mother’s Day. See, Sunday wasn’t just Mother’s Day in Stimeyland, but also Jack’s birthday. We were only a silver anniversary away from the perfect storm of celebration.

Wait a minute! Maybe we can achieve this perfect storm of celebration if I show you this slightly blurry photo of Gerbil Mother’s Day:

Although it probably doesn't count if I took the photo a month ago, does it?

Although it probably doesn’t count if I took the photo a month ago, does it?

Mother’s Day was pretty much overshadowed by Jack’s birthday, which was totally fine with me, especially because I got the best handmade cards and gifts I could have possibly gotten. Sam made me a paper Minecraft cake and sang a song to go along with it, complete with an illustrated companion book.

Jack made me a bead necklace and a paper flower, along with a note that I had to hide from my other kids because it mentioned the secret iPad time he gets in the morning if he has good behavior at school the day before.

Quinn typed up a little note that said, “I love you and you are good. So I think you should get to sleep in 5 more minutes than you usually do. Then get dressed, come downstairs and fix us breakfast.” Then, he poked at me, said, “I regret putting my thumb in your armpit,” and ran to the bathroom to frantically wash his hands. Because I have cooties, evidently.

Also, Alex got me the best Mother’s Day card that he could possibly have given to a non-hugger autistic person like me.

I laughed and laughed. Alex gets me.

I laughed and laughed. Alex gets me.

We then moved on to Jack’s big day. He opened presents and then all the males in my house played Minecraft together until I threatened to walk out of the house and go on Jack’s Big Birthday Outing all by myself because we were going to a petting farm and I wanted to pet some farm animals, thank you very much.

Also, Minecraft is stupid.

I finally bent my entire family to my will and we headed out to the farm. Where did we go, you ask? Why don’t we let Sam tell us?

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He asked me to take this photo. It was the best Mother’s Day gift I could have asked for.

Wait. Where did you say you were again?

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This would only be better if spoilsport Quinn had shown his face. God, I love my family.

There were all kinds of animals to pet and feed at this farm. Unfortunately, Jack was unexcited about all of them.

Wait. I mean he was SUPER excited about all of them.

Wait. I mean he was SUPER excited about all of them.

We started with the fowl. My kids think chickens are really funny. Except Sam. Sam was a little bit afraid of the chickens. That’s probably a smart move seeing as how chickens are exceptionally pointy. In reality, however, chickens are probably more scared of us than we are of them.

This chicken in particular.

This chicken in particular.
He was trapped in a Team Stimey-chicken sandwich—otherwise known as a chicken sandwich.

We saw every animal at the farm. We were allowed to pet all of them except for the zebras. I assume this is because every time I have seen zebras in captivity, there is a sign that warns people that fingers look like carrots* and you shouldn’t stick said fingers in zebra pens because zebras are assholes and will eat your hand.

Naturally, I asked Alex to put his finger in the zebra pen.

He's really half assing feeding his finger to the zebra though. You can tell from the photo.

He’s really half assing feeding his finger to the zebra though. You can tell from the photo.

We also saw the pig race.

I felt that this was a little demeaning, but they didn't seem to mind.

I felt that the race was a little demeaning, but the pigs didn’t seem to mind.

One of those pigs was galloping. The other one sort of ambled at a fast trot. Once they raced, they ate out of their little piggy bowl and the first one snorted angrily and shoved the second one every time the second one tried to eat some food. I was all, “Hey! That first one is like me!”

There were a lot of baby animals at the petting farm. There were baby birds, pigs, llamas, bison, goats, a cow, and sheep.

This baby sheep made a whiny, complainy bleat that sound EXACTLY like Quinn.

This baby sheep made a whiny, complainy bleat that sound EXACTLY like Quinn.

Happily, this farm made Quinn, who is often quite grumpy, happier than I have seen him in a while. It was great to see his delighted, happy face. Baby animals are kind of his thing.

The sheer awesomeness of feeding sheep knocked him on his ass.

The sheer awesomeness of feeding sheep knocked him on his ass.

My favorite animal there was the kangaroo. Have you ever petted a kangaroo? OMG, they are so soft. And they have little hands that they use to scratch themselves in all kinds of fun places while you watch. Plus, if you get really close to them, they will try to eat your hair. I want a kangaroo.

Specifically, this kangaroo.

Specifically, this kangaroo. I will name him Bartholomew.

I also have a thing for emus, even though they are kinda dicks. Have you ever petted an emu? Of course not, because they will peck you to death before you get close enough.

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Aaaaaiiiiiggghhhhh!!!!!!

Baby chickens were nicer than the emus, although I’m sure if they could have gotten away with pecking my eyes out, they would have.

Bock bock bagock!!!!

I would name this lil’ guy “Nugget.”

The unruliest animals were the ones in this cage though:

I would like to state for the record, that it was not ME who locked the children in there.

I would like to state for the record, that it was not ME who locked the children in there.

Revenge for the illegal jailing was pursued.

Sam will also peck your eyes out.

Sam will also peck you to death.

I have to say, Alex was skeptical about our trip to the petting farm. It was, however, one of our best outings in a long time. It was outside, so we could be loud and run; there was sufficient interaction to keep everyone’s interest; and we were able to see the entire farm and touch every single animal on it in two hours, meaning no one got overwhelmed.

See? Look? Most of them look not not unhappy!

Add some focus and take away one stranglehold and this photo is super close to being almost frame-able.

And that was Jean and Jack Day in Stimeyland. Pretty good, huh? The only thing I neglected to show you is Jack’s cake. I always get my cakes from the grocery store, but this time I was nervous because my instructions to the bakery, which they wrote verbatim on the order form, were “Make it look grassy. Kind of like it’s a field.”

They actually did a great job. Although it barely mattered considering that one of Jack’s gifts was a set of some awesome Minecraft figures and some plant foam cut into cubes. Jack’s face—hell, my whole family’s faces—were priceless when they saw this cake.

I came to dig.

I came to dig.

I hope that all of you had Mother’s Day/Jack’s Birthdays that were as good as ours was. Even though I didn’t get the traditional Mother’s Day gift of getting to avoid my family all day, it was one of the better days that I’ve had in a long, long time.

 

* Fingers also evidently look like rodent pellets. I say this based on the fact that I poked my finger in front of Jetpack the other day and she latched on, leaving me to yank my hand up, GERBIL STILL DANGLING FROM MY FINGER BY HER TEETH, until she finally fell off. It was quite traumatic, I tell you. The trauma was made even worse because no one was as concerned by the blood oozing out of the tiny puncture wound on the tip of my finger as I was. Fair warning: Jetpack has developed a taste for human blood. Remain vigilant.

Hello.

Look at me, not having blogged for days upon days upon days. You would think that would mean that I have been productive elsewhere in my life. You would be wrong.

Mostly I was busy and tired and my sister was visiting. I have a whole list of things I would like to tell you about, but for today I am just going to link to a couple posts that I wrote elsewhere.

We’re all about language this week:

First off, I wrote about Jack over at White Knuckle Parenting this week and how I dealt with it when he learned the r-word.

My next link was published several days ago, but I forgot to tell you about it. I wrote about identity-first language for The Shake. There is also a sister piece written by someone else who prefers person-first language.

Lastly, I would like to thank those of you who donated to the Cheetah-thon. You are all so wonderful! Thank you to Kelly, Candi & Dick, and Susan! You all have contributed a total of $865. Thank you. Thank you so very much.

For more information about the Cheetahs and the Cheetah-thon, check out this post. To donate to the Cheetah-thon, please visit this page.

If you are available on May 11 from 5-7, please come by the Rockville Ice Arena to skate with the Cheetahs. Everyone is welcome! It should be a lot of fun!

She’s Not Going to Kill Us, Is She?

I don’t even remember when I met Jen online. It was years ago, I know that. I loved her immediately, I know that too. She doesn’t blog a whole lot anymore, but she used to write at Problem Girl. If you haven’t read her, you should go read some of her archives, because holy hell is she hilarious. She is also an amazing person. She would probably shrug that off, but she is.

For a lot of years we’ve emailed and messaged and texted and made inappropriate jokes about lurking in each others’ driveways and peeking in windows. We always talked about meeting someday, but it seemed unlikely that someday would ever come.

Jen came to visit me in April. She flew all the way to the DC area just to visit me. Me. I feel pretty awesome about that. I mean that’s brave of her, right? For her to put herself out there to come and visit someone she’d never met? I’m sure that says something about her, but I’m also pretty sure that means that I am the most magnetic person in the world.

Or something.

Anywho, I was thrilled. I was nervous and excited to meet her, but it didn’t feel weird to open my home to someone I’d never met because she was already my friend. We’d just never happened to, you know, meet before. I mean, sure, Alex was all, “She’s not going to kill us, is she?” and my therapist’s eyes just about popped out of his head when I told him, but for the most part it didn’t seem strange at all.

And it wasn’t. She is easy and fun and hilarious and one of the best people I’ve met. We got along immediately. Having her in my home wasn’t stressful, which is always a risk for houseguests in Stimeyland.

I mean, sure, I panicked in the airport parking lot because I couldn’t find my car and also because I couldn’t find my keys, which were actually in my hand (“I thought they were in your hand, but I didn’t want to say anything, you psycho” is a paraphrase of what Jen said when I finally located said keys by lifting my hand toward my face), but after we got in the car and I drove in 16 circles to find the exit of the garage, everything was smooth sailing.

I was extremely relieved to discover that not only is Jen even more awesome in person than she is online, but she is my people. There are just a few of those. I feel really lucky to have found another.

See? People.

See? People. And the White House.

Jen and I did everything in DC while she was here. You may think I’m kidding, but I’m not. We went to every monument and memorial on the National Mall, plus four museums. And the zoo. My feet still hurt.

She also introduced me to risotto, which I have never before eaten in my life. Can you believe it? We went to Joe Squared in Baltimore, which has something like 17 kinds of risotto on the menu. After I took my first bite, I was furious at myself for never having eaten it before. Jen was in town for five days. We drove to Baltimore to eat risotto twice.

See? My people.

I could talk for a long time about Jen and how awesome she is, but most of you probably don’t want to hear all the fun little jokes we came up with over the weekend. But I would like to take you on a little photo tour of parts of her visit.

I’m going to start with my favorite photo that I took of Jen during her visit. She is a photographer and for maybe the first time in my life, I wasn’t the person who took the most photos whilst out and about. There is a lot to photograph at Arlington National Cemetery, which is where we started.

Photographer Jen

Ironically, my photo of an awesome photographer could have been WAY better framed.

From there, we headed to the White House, where we both took a lot of photos, but then we found this tree that was almost even more interesting. This tree was otter interesting. (Don’t worry. That will make sense later.)

Have you ever seen such a thing?

Have you ever seen such a thing?

Okay, fine. I’ll show you the White House too.

Algernon liked Jen too.

Algernon liked Jen too.

From there, we traveled down the Mall to the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and then a looooong walk back to my car. That long walk back always sucks so much. I was smart enough the next day to suggest that we park near where we were going to end our day, which was brilliant. Weirdly though, this scheme involved a long walk to our first destination. Stupid giant National Mall. They could have crammed things a little closer for us lazy people, don’t you think?

But! The long walk was okay because we got to see some awesome sculptures like these…chairs?

IMG_9532

I don’t “get” art.
But at least Algernon and Jen had a place to sit.

Then we found this very flamboyant pizza cutter.

IMG_9533

Did I mention that I don’t get art?

This next piece of art entertained my brain for the remainder of the day. I’m pretty sure that Jen is going to kill me for posting this here, but I have to because OMG, WHO PUT THIS ON THE NATIONAL MALL?!

IMG_9534

*whispers* I think this is a *quieter whisper* vagina. *knowing look*

All of this before we even set foot in a museum! We headed off to the speediest tours ever of the Natural History Museum and the American History Museum. It’s tough because you could spend an entire day in just one or two exhibits in any one of these museums, but we wanted to see a little bit of everything.

We ended up taking the teaser tour of DC. What? You want to check out the extensive and in-depth exhibit on human evolution? Sorry! Pick your favorite skull to look at because we have to go see the Star Spangled Banner!

I did manage to get a photo of Jen in the crystal ball that I always take photos through at the Natural History Museum.

You make time for things like this.

You make time for important things like this.

From there, it was off to see the memorials we missed the day before.

Having lived here for a long time, I had already visited all of the places we toured in DC, except for the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial. I was super excited to go there. I can’t wait to take Jack there sometime. He is going to LOVE it. He absolutely loves his friend Martin, so I can only imagine his eyes if he were to see this memorial. It is gorgeous.

Right?

Right?

From there, we swung around through the Korean War Memorial and then began the long trudge back down toward the museum end of the Mall. We decided to bypass several of the museums lining the south side of the Mall because we were running short on time and also we needed to find food.

Of course, we had to traipse back down the mall, which included passing an ultimate Frisbee game and a kickball tournament to find that food. Happily, these hipster gatherings at least gave us something to make fun of on our slog down the Mall.

Fortunately I remembered that I had heard people talk about how yummy the food was at the American Indian Museum cafe, which is something that Team Stimey hadn’t experienced the other time we’d been to that museum, on a particularly ill-fated trip downtown with my children a while back.

It was a good decision to go there. (Fry bread!) Plus, because it was Jen’s birthday, it was totally legitimate for her to chug wine directly from the bottle in a museum cafe at lunchtime.

lunch

Seriously. Fry bread.

It was getting late in the afternoon, so we took a quick swing by the Capitol on our way to the National Gallery of Art. We also spent some time enjoying the pigeon hanging out on this statue’s hat.

Or at least *I* did.

Or at least *I* did.

We had a little over an hour at the art museum, which is totally enough time to pass judgment on all of the art hanging in the museum. I didn’t take any photos, maybe because I was having too good of a time listening to Jen complaining about the art at the museum. I will forever remember her standing in front of a Gauguin painting with a grimace on her face saying, “This is not a good painting.”

Honestly, I think she was right.

Once Jen started passing authoritative judgment on a few paintings, it was all over. I have spent every moment of every day since that moment pointing out faults in people (“This is not a good child.”), places (“This is not a good soccer field.”), and things (“This is not a good dead gerbil.”). You should try it. I think you will like it.

The museum closed at 5 (“Ladies and gentleman, the National Gallery of Art is now closed. Please make your way to the exit,” a guard bellowed loudly in a room where only he, Jen, and I stood.) and we had people meeting us at my house at 6 to go to a birthday dinner with Jen. It was 5:50 when it occurred to me that I should probably call Alex to tell him that people would be arriving on our porch and we wouldn’t be there yet. This was the first he had heard of people arriving on our porch.

(This is not a good wife.)

Alex all but hung up on me, saying (with a fair amount of resentment in his voice if I’m being honest), “I have to go clean now. Goodb—QUINN! SAM! JACK! GET IN HERE! PICK UP THIS TRASH! *click*”

Quinn almost didn’t let the first two people who arrived in, telling them, “You can’t come in. We’re cleaning.” For Jen’s and my blog-friend Susan, whom we were meeting in person for the first time, this was an abrupt welcome to Stimeyland. Fortunately, she knows what we’re like so I can’t imagine she was too taken aback. Can you imagine though? Showing up at someone’s house where you’ve never been and the person you’re going to see isn’t there yet, but there IS a surly Alex and an insolent 7-year-old telling you you’re not welcome? I probably would have gone to cry in my car.

Fortunately, things turned around quickly after Jen and I arrived and Alex forgave me/publicly shamed me in front of my friends. We had assembled an all-star cast for Jen’s birthday dinner.

Heather, Lindsay, Stimey, Jen, Susan

Heather, Lindsay, Stimey, Jen, Susan

We had such a good time. I am in love with this group of women. We had Mexican food, margaritas, cake, and an offensive and hilarious party game. It was maybe my favorite night of the year thus far.

I'd appreciate it if you could look away from the piles of crap on my table and focus on the awesomeness of margaritas, Jen, and photos of awesome cakes.

I’d appreciate it if you could look away from the piles of crap on my table and focus on the awesomeness of margaritas, Jen, and photos of awesome cakes.

The cake was a Minnie Mouse cake with a photo of Alex on it. It’s a long story. But worth it for the look on Jen’s face. I was pretty pleased with the cake and the writing that I forced the grocery store decorators to put on the top. Let me tell you, “Happy Birthday to my Internet Soul Sister” takes up a lot of space on a quarter of a sheet cake.

The next day we, along with half of the DC Metro area, decided to go to the zoo. Originally I had thought that this would be a fun thing to do with my kids. My kids didn’t want to go to the zoo though, so Jen and I got to go by ourselves. I have to say it was awesome and sliiiiiightly less whiny to go to the zoo with another adult.

I was pretty excited because I got to introduce Jen to a real, live panda bear.

Depressed panda is depressed. Or asleep.

Depressed panda is depressed.
Or asleep.

I have to tell you though, the best animals at the zoo were the Asian otters. There was a whole pack of these little guys and they were the best thing I’d ever seen. (These are good animals.) They swam. They sat on their haunches and looked at visitors. They ran in little adorable packs. Frankly, they set the bar pretty high for zoo animals that day. (Which leads me to, “Yeah, the elephant is interesting, but it’s not otter interesting.”)

DO YOU SEE? OTTER INTERESTING.

DO YOU SEE? OTTER INTERESTING. (Also adorable.)

We saw lots of other animals as well. In fact, because of my poor navigation skills, we traveled the maximum uphill distance you possibly can at the zoo in order to see nearly every animal you can see at the zoo, including the invertebrates, which my kids never let me see because they are afraid of the spiders that are kept there with no barrier between them and the general public. Those spiders make an entire wing of the zoo off limits for most of Team Stimey.

One of our favorites was the hyrax, which seems to be the Debbie Downer of the animal kingdom. They are fun to anthropomorphize in the most dejected kind of way. They just look so disgruntled.

But athletic! How do you think he got up there?

But athletic! How do you think he got up there?
The hyrax: “*sigh* Someone stuffed me up here. *grumble* I suppose I’ll just sit up here all day. *harumph*”

We also saw this monkey:

I mention him only because I'm impressed that I got a mostly non-blurry photograph of his face.

I mention him only because I like this photo.

After the zoo, we met my family for dinner. It was at that dinner that we were discussing the names that my kids want to give the kittens we are considering getting. Jack told us that he either wants to name his Steve, after a Minecraft character, or Jenny, after, well, Jen.

(This is a good name for a cat.)

I think it is safe to say that all of Team Stimey are fans of Jen. We miss her. We want her to come back. If it weren’t still snowing where she lives, we would want to go visit her right now.

I have felt lucky for a long time that Jen is my friend. Now that I have seen her in person and been able to have long conversations, I feel even luckier. Thank you for taking a chance and coming to visit, Jen. Thank you also for not killing us. We are going to be friends for a long time.

(This is a good friendship.)

*****

You all continue to bring magic by donating to the the Montgomery Cheetahs Cheetah-thon. Thank you so much for the most recent donors including an anonymous friend; Barbara; and my sister, her wife, and their family. Thank you all so much. So, so much. I love you. You all have donated $775 so far. You are amazing.

Jack and his teammates would be so grateful if you were to donate to his team. We’d also like it if you were to come out and skate with us on May 11. Details about the Cheetah-thon and how to donate are online.

Meet Bean Clawdia Josie MooShroom Francis Fleur Hermione Hippo

In case you don’t remember, at our last meeting I asked you all to give me suggestions for names for this little girl:

Wait, what? Me?

Wait, what? Me?

You did not disappoint.

It almost—ALMOST—makes me wish I had 40 or 50 more gerbils for all of you to name. If any of you are trying to name a pet, please check out the comments on that post, because not only will you laugh hysterically, you will also get many, many good ideas.

I'll wait here while you do that.

I’ll just wait here and chew on this while you do that.

You can see how difficult this decision was for me. But a decision had to be made, so I buckled down and laughed my way through the list several times only to notice that I kept coming back to Lisa’s suggestion for Edwina Scissorpaws. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I did not, however, care for Edwina. But then my friend Jen, who was in town visiting me for the weekend, suggested Edie Scissorpaws.

SOLD!

Call her Edie, call her Scissorpaws, just don’t call her after midnight.

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Meet Ms. Edie Scissorpaws. She will cut a bitch.

Thank you all for your suggestions! You make my funny bone happy. And a huge thanks to Lisa and Jen for making Edie’s funny bone happy.

*****

Jack had an IEP meeting yesterday afternoon and it was smooth and easy and I don’t think we were pushed around by the system. After putting in a lot of years at IEP meetings where, even though his team was amazing, I walked out with a clenched jaw from the stress, it was lovely to spend a pretty relaxed hour saying nice things about my kid and his teachers. I reflected on this over at White Knuckle Parenting: Doing Time at the IEP Meeting.

Keep Moving Forward

A few years ago, a friend of mine was nervous about a race she was getting ready to run. Her brother gave her some brilliant advice: Just keep running forward.

He might have followed that up with some smartassery about not going backwards, but I wasn’t there to hear it, so I won’t take any liberties with this hearsay between siblings.

Regardless, this has become an important mantra for my friend and I: Keep Moving Forward.

It is applicable in many situations.

I love to run. I absolutely really truly love it. Even on days like today when I am tired and the last thing I want to do is to start hopping from foot to foot in a forward direction, once I take those first steps, I’m sold. There is something so calming and regulating about running, about putting one foot in front of the other and finding yourself miles away from where you started.

Keep moving forward is the best, simplest advice for anyone who is struggling with running. Fast, slow, whatever…just keep moving forward.

I wish I had words of wisdom about what happened at the Boston Marathon, but I don’t. All I can say is that we all have to keep moving forward. I am sending my love to my friends in Boston and everyone at the race. I’ve been thinking of you constantly.

*****

I actually wrote about running for White Knuckle Parenting this week. I just restarted running last week after taking most of March off and I have been trying to figure out how to get my runs in with my kids hanging around. The trick, per usual, is probably to keep moving forward.

Miracles on Ice

In hockey circles (and probably a fair number of other circles as well) Lake Placid holds a special place. It was there, at the 1980 Olympics, that the USA hockey team famously defeated the heavily favored Soviets in the game that would come to be known as the Miracle on Ice. I was only 7 in 1980, but people older than me (or just maybe more, you know, aware of things) remember this game not just for the hockey but for the Cold War symbolism it held.

With five seconds left in the game, when it became clear that the US team was going to prevail, sportscaster Al Michaels shouted, “Do you believe in miracles?!”

I know this for several reasons:

1. I have watched the movie Miracle on the team bus on the way to every single one of the four hockey tournaments Jack and I have gone on.

2. The folks at the Olympic Center in Lake Placid show the last few seconds of that game at every single opportunity available.

3. I run in hockey circles.

Now, this may not have a lot to do with Jack’s team, the Montgomery Cheetahs and the 34 players that drove north to play, or any of the other special hockey teams that gathered in Lake Placid last weekend for this CAN/AM tournament.

Or it just might.

As I wrote elsewhere, the Cheetahs’ head coach stood at the front of the team bus just a few minutes before we arrived back home late on Sunday night. He told us that he had known some of the players who had skated in that famous game. He told us that this tournament was the first special hockey tournament to play on that revered ice. He told us how he felt standing on that ice with the players he works so hard with every single week.

“As I stood on that ice,” he said, “I thought about these 34 miracles that we brought with us.”

Now, I’m not a miracle girl. I really don’t believe in miracles. I’m not one to call a disabled person who plays hockey a miracle. (I call them athletes—and, for the record, so does the coach.) But I understood exactly what he meant and the warm spirit with which he meant it.

I struggle after every single hockey trip to let you know what it is like at these tournaments. I mean, it’s like any other away game trip, right? Kids play games. Some have rough days. Some have incredible days. You swim in the hotel pool. You explore the town. It’s just a team trip, right?

But it’s not. Part of it is that some of these kids won’t get a lot of opportunities to travel for sports. Part of it is that these tournaments are a space where it is safe for these players to be themselves. Part of it is that these players, who have to work so hard in everyday life, are heroes on the ice. Part of it is that the players get to relax and form friendships, something that can be so hard for some young people with disabilities. Part of it is that these players put on a ton of gear and kick ass at a sport that you and I would probably suck at.

But it’s more than that.

I have never seen nor experienced such sportsmanship, respect, and camaraderie as I do at these tournaments. There is competition and there are fierce match-ups, but there are also games where on-ice rivals help each other and make sure the puck gets to players that don’t skate as fast or that don’t have the same skills. I’m not talking about the coaches. I’m talking about the players helping each other. I’m talking about inter-team congratulations, celebrations, and encouragement between players. I’m also talking about teams skating as hard as they can to win. There is that too. There is some fantastic hockey at these tournaments.

There is a spirit of being in it together—of understanding that if I add more water to your harbor, my ship rises too.

And there are smiles. The team coaches skated for hours and hours over the course of the tournament. I never saw any of them without a smile. The players’ faces are hidden behind face shields, but even a face shield can’t hide the smiles they have. My Jack, who struggled so mightily at his first tournament a couple of years ago, was calm and regulated for much of the trip. He isn’t yet totally aware of the shared harbor and the rising ships, but he is starting to see it. He was full of smiles this weekend.

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I mean, there are tears too, but even that gets taken care of by the hockey family. Jack fell during one game and he cried because his head hurt. One of the coaches took him back to the bench where he lifted his face cage to wipe his tears, standing between Jack and the rink, physically using his body to shield my boy’s face from flying pucks and to make him feel better. And it worked. Your baby is my baby.

I could go on and on. I wish that all of you could attend a special hockey tournament. I wish all of you could experience what the players and families experience at these things. I wish my words were adequate, but they simply aren’t.

Special hockey. I’ve said it before, but special hockey is magic. I might not believe in miracles, but you’d better understand that I believe in magic.

In 1980, before Team USA took to the Olympic ice to skate against the Soviets, head coach Herb Brooks told his team: “You were born to be a hockey player…You were meant to be here…This moment is yours.”

I feel like we could have said this to every single player who was on the ice last weekend. They all had their time at the tournament. That moment was theirs.

THAT is what the Miracle on Ice has to do with special hockey.

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I mentioned in my last post that some of the money raised from last year’s Cheetah-thon fundraiser went to help families pay for this tournament. The Cheetahs know how expensive it can be to raise a special needs child and they never want money to be a barrier to getting to experience trips like this one. We are holding another Cheetah-thon on May 11 from 5 to 7 pm. Team Stimey will be in the house. I would love it if any of you locals came to skate with us. I would be honored if you would consider donating to this year’s Cheetah-thon. Be sure to make a note when you donate if you are doing so in honor of Jack, so I can be sure to thank you.

I also want to thank some other people here. The Cheetahs are an entirely volunteer-run organization. The people who make sure the team keeps running all have jobs and families and other things they like to do with their time. They work extremely hard all year long to make Cheetah practices and tournaments happen. Many thanks to Cheetahs director Sean and tournament cruise director David for everything. Thank you to Coach Rob and to Head Coach David. You guys made magic last weekend.

Fine. Miracles too.

Special Hockey: Do You Believe in Miracles? from Mark Miller on Vimeo.

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Coming soon…

The day Jack and Jean went bobsledding. Like bosses.