The robe

Before I went to college, I never owned a bathrobe. Within my first couple of weeks of freshman year, I realized I needed one. I lived on a co-ed hall, and though all in good fun, you wouldn't believe the cat calls and whistles I would get as I embarassingly walked to the bathroom to shower in towel.

Thankfully, my grandma Jean bought me a warm fuzzy blue bathrobe that year for Christmas and I didn't have to feel ashamed walking down my dorm hall any longer.

And strangely, 15 years later, I still own and use that same bathrobe. Daily. Although sometimes I feel it might be time for a new robe, at other times, I feel happy that robe has been with me from the days of being a lost and lonely 18 year old college freshman to a (nearly) 33 year old confident and happy wife and mother. And every step in between.

These days, the robe probably gets more abuse than it did when I first got it. Each morning, I shower and stay in the bathrobe until I am just ready to walk out the door. I learned the hard way that if I try to change diapers or brush boys' teeth in my work clothes, I spend a whole lot more at the dry cleaner. Its just easier to stay in the robe, complete all the morning activities required to get three young ones out the door, and change just before the bus arrives to pick up Will. Once - just once - I just it a bit too close and had to take Will out to the bus in my robe. That was awkward.

On any given day, the arm to my bathrobe is probably a bio-hazard. As gross as it is to admit here, in the past week, I can recall wiping up the following things with my bathrobe sleeve (in no particular order):

• Otis' eye goop
• Will's applesauce sneeze
• Matt's nose... repeatedly
• The toothpaste on the side of Luke's mouth
• Water spots on the mirror
• A smudge of who-knows-what on the garage door
• Pediasure drops on the bookshelf

I know, I know. Next time you stay at our house and the bathrobe comes out, you'll stay as far away from my right arm as possible. I do my best to wash the bathrobe once a week. I do not always succeed. I am happy to report it is in the dryer right now as I type this update.

I liken my bathrobe to a grandmother's apron or dishrag. Just add a little bit of saliva, and bam! Perfect parental cleaning situation. Someday my kids will recall that bathrobe and laugh about how I used it to clean a little bit of everything. At least that's what I tell myself :)

Quasi-nonymous

About a month ago, I got an email from a woman I have known for several years.  She works with young children with a special needs, and has always been a great resource and voice of reason for me as we have navigated these special needs waters. 

In her email, she told me that the only reason she was emailing was to find out our home address... that if she had it in hand already or could find it online, she wouldn't have sent the note.  She just would have ordered a new iPad for Will and sent it to us.  Anonymously.

I was floored.  What a gift... what generosity and thoughtfulness!  She said she has seen children in Will's situation really come alive with an iPad in their corner, and that her hope for Will was that this gift would allow him some freedom in communication.

Like an assistive technology fairy godmother.

The iPad just arrived.  We had enough notice to order a wheelchair mount for Will.  And as soon as that Apple box was delivered, we have been packing it full of well-researched apps for children with cerebral palsy and cortical vision impairment.  We hooked it into the wheelchair mount and...

As with most things, Will's first reaction was 5% curiosity and 95% dislike for anything different.  He kind of looked at the iPad with bewilderment and then tried to use his right arm to knock it out of his field of vision.  Though we can move the iPad mount around as it best suits Will, we decided that would try to mount it most often in the middle of Will's tray at about eye height to encourage him to bring his hands to the middle to play and to keep his head up (rather than dropping it down, which is what would happen if the iPad was flat on his tray).

He definitely has some favorite apps so far - Itsy Bitsy Spider and Wheels on the Bus by Duck Duck Moose.  We also loaded some auto-play books onto the iPad - several Dr. Seuss stories and The Monster at the End of This Book.  As Will figures out that he needs to touch the screen to turn the pages, we will take the books off of auto-play and allow him a little more interaction.

In the mean time, Luke and Matt are jealously peering upon this new gem from their spots at Will's left and right.  Every now and again, they stick a little finger onto the screen to help Will out.  We've tried to make it clear that this is Will's computer - just as Luke and Matt each have their own computers - but I think they realize that Will's computer is BY FAR the coolest of the bunch.

Once Will gets more comfortable and fluid with interacting with his iPad, we'll begin loading some communication output apps on it - such as Proloquo2go.  We think this is a great tool for Will as he moves forward with his development and agility.

Thanks, Anonymous, for your act of kindness and thoughtfulness.  Though Will can't do it just yet, I can't wait for the day when he uses an assistive technology app on his iPad to tell you 'thank you' all by himself!  You're a wonderful friend.