Photographic memories and bedwetting

Dennis has a really good memory. I could bore you to tears with stories you wouldn't even believe about his amazing memory.

When he was about 5 years old, he told me, "my mind is like a picture. I can't forget things!"

Now, at 7, he claims to have a photographic memory. I'm not about to argue with him. He saw a poster about Martin Luther King one time and was able to recite the paragraph from his "I Had a Dream" that was written on the poster. Verbatim.

Well, he also has a shortcoming. He doesn't stay dry at night. I'd say he was a bedwetter but that almost implies he has stayed dry at some point. He never has. He has never been potty trained overnight.

Tonight, I talked to him about trying to stay dry and some things we can do to help him stay dry. He gave me his reason why he thinks he can't stay dry.

"I can't stay dry because I have a photographic memory. People without photographic memories can stay dry but I can't because I think too much and can't think about going to the bathroom when I'm asleep."

Apparently, he doesn't see it as a shortcoming but a natural byproduct of his genius.

In other words, only stupid people can hold their pee overnight. And who I am to argue? I don't have a photographic memory AND I can hold my bladder overnight. It's a wonder I manage to get through the day without poking myself in the eye.

Shocking!

For Dennis's birthday, one of his friends gave him a simple electricity kit. He can learn all about electricity by hooking the various wires to a battery. After he opened the gift, I said, "Whoa, Dennis, do you think you can handle electricity?" To which he replied,

"I sure hope so!"

So do we, son. So do we.

What I learned tonight

I was talking to my teacher tonight (using the term "talking" very loosely as she is Deaf and we were signing). Just like all young moms do, we got on the topic of the births of our children.

I learned that birth stories are a lot more interesting in ASL. You think hearing people give too much detail? Imagine that detail in 3-D.

That is all.

But you don't look sick

Living with an invisible illness is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, people don't treat me like a sickly person who needs to be approached with kid gloves all the time. On the other hand, when I need kid gloves, people can't tell. My joints don't glow bright red. The pins and needles feeling in my hands and feet aren't neon green. My head doesn't spin when I have vertigo. And I don't have a "fatigue" meter attached to my head and all extremities to let everyone know when my legs can keep going and when they need to rest after just climbing the stairs.

The worst part, for me, is not having a name for what is bothering me. In August of 2002 it started. I spent over a year getting tested. All the doctors (except one) said "you are very sick, but I don't know what is causing it." The one doctor who didn't say that told me it was pretty much in my head and pain was part of life. I think everyone who is chronically ill needs to get one of those doctors.

Well, the illness went away for 2.5 years. I assumed that it was gone for good. It must have been some weird virus.

I was wrong. My 2.5 years was simply a remission. I've now relapsed. And I'm about to start testing again.

Back to the point. Invisible illnesses cause so much confusion. No one can tell how sick I am. Some may truly believe I can't be as sick as I am because I have good days and bad days. If I'm out shopping on Wednesday, how can I possibly be in bed on Friday? Others will understand that I can have good days and bad days. They will understand that just because I don't yell "ow" it doesn't mean I'm not in pain.

Here is the best way to explain it

http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/2004/11/the_spoon_theory.php

The spoon theory. Read it. You know you want to.

Learning to take compliments

When I was a teenager, I was horrible at accepting compliments. I'd usually counter with a self depreciating remark. If you told me my hair looked nice, I'd comment on how limp and lifeless it was. If you said I was really smart, I'd note that there are many people smarter than I am.

A friend told me to just say "thank you." By declining the compliment, I make the person delivering the compliment just as uncomfortable as I am. So, just take the compliment graciously and make it easier on everyone.

If only my friend knew... he created a monster. Not only do I take compliments well now, I see them where they might not even exist.

First, my teacher invited my family and I over for a birthday party for her son. She and her husband are both Deaf. She also wants to get our children together to play. The compliment I pretend to see: I sign soooo well that she feels like we can socialize. Second compliment I see in this situation: I'm so fabulous that out of the 25 people in my class, she wants to spend time with me.

Then, a friend in my class is having a benefit party in June. There will be several Deaf people in attendance. She has asked me to interpret for the benefit. It's really just spelling names of those who won the silent auction and interpreting a prepared 'thank you' speech. The imagined compliment: Since this woman's parents are Deaf, she must see some natural talent or some hard earned skill.

Maybe I should get back to just saying thank you with direct compliments or my head my inflate too much.

Your hands are full!

I went to the Jones Store with my kids today. I had the youngest three. The Jones Store is a high end department store (they've recently been bought out by Macy's).

They had a huge sale today. So, in order to get a new comforter for my bed, a pair of Nikes and a pair of diamond studs at rock bottom prices, I had to take Xander, Eli and Eden with me. Dennis was at school.

High end stores like this make no indication that children are welcome. There are no plastic shopping carts with fronts that look like cars. There are no mall-type strollers with a mesh bag to carry your items. There isn't a shopping cart in sight. So I carried Eden in the sling (for an idea of what a sling is, look here http://faeriepants.com/store/). Xander and Eli walked independently (yikes!)

I will say they were very well behaved. But I was stopped several times and told "Wow! Your hands are full!"

I responded, "And this isn't even all of them!" The look of complete shock at this revelation from the first person was enough to encourage me to answer the same to everyone who said "wow! Your hands are full!"

Latest ASL blunder

On a recent test, our teacher signed "I was born in 1920." Our job was to simply write down what she signed. One student was slightly confused and wrote down "I gave birth to 9 chickens."

If you ask me, she should have gotten full credit.

Praying the ball down

Dennis and his friend were in the backyard playing with a $2 plastic ball from Walmart. They threw it up and it became stuck in a tree. Dennis came in and asked me if I was busy with the baby. I said no. What did he need?

He explained the ball was stuck. I asked how he thought they could get it out of the tree. He whispered "pray."

I said "you want to pray? Maybe you can pray that Heavenly Father will help you aim well when you throw another ball up to hit it out of the tree."

Dennis's friend said "Alright! Who's gonna do this thing?"

The two boys knelt in the backyard and prayed.

Well, the ball hasn't come down. I'm sure the passing storm that's due in a few hours will help.

Complaining about Complaining

Before you laugh like my husband did, yes, I understand how ironic it is that I am complaining about complaining.

There is a girl in my sign language class who complains non-stop about everything. You name it! The teacher signed too fast. She only fingerspells the word once on the quiz. She spelled the word wrong. She won't tell us what our grade is (hey, genius, why don't you add up the points you've already gotten and divide it by the points available and multiply by 100?).

And it isn't just random whining or complaining. She gets adamant about it.

Mind you, we're not actually *in* the sign program yet. We've all applied and we're waiting to find out. We are in the last prerequisite sign class and we need a B or better to even be eligible for the program.

Last night, I almost told her to just stop whining already. My mouth was open and ready to fire when I stopped myself. If we both get into the program, we will spend the next four years together. FOUR YEARS.

That thought alone makes me debate waiting another year to apply. Four years is a long time.

And she complains right in front of the teacher which is unbelievably rude. Why is that rude? Because the teacher is Deaf. She can't hear what the girl is saying. But does this student even attempt to sign her concerns to the teacher or to communicate in some way? No. Of course not. That would take away her ability to whine.

Imagine if you are in a room of people. All of them know basic English. All of them are proficient in a language you do not understand. They all start speaking this language. That is rude enough. Now imagine they are speaking ill of you.

Even if she didn't whine and complain, the fact that she would speak about a Deaf person in her presence without signing (when she knows sign!) is enough to let me know I do not want to spend the next 4 years studying ASL and Deaf culture with her.

I'm done whining. For now.