What's in a name? ALOT!!

Because it’s still Down syndrome awareness month, I thought I would share with you how Matt came to be. Not literally (GROSSE)…his name, I would like to share with you how Matt got his name. (Authors note: this is one of those rerun episodes so for most of you who have heard this…grab a snack and enjoy the story…again).

For nine months I nourished and grew this wee one within me and as soon as we found out he was a boy, we decided he would be known here as Brock Hooton. Brock was a studly and unique enough name that we couldn't wait to call our son. We were a unique couple and didn’t want your everyday “average” name. (Matt-how average can you get ha ha). Anyway, when he was ripe (or almost ripe) he decided on a snowy November morn that he would make his grand entrance. It was a GREAT Thursday…or so it started out that way.

I’ll never forget the morning after “Brock” was born. My OBGYN came into my room whistling some cheery tune expecting to send me on my way only when he opened the door he walked into a room full of our family members who were crying and trying to comfort a very young and scared couple. His exact words…”what’s with all the tears?” We were stunned that he was so happy and asking a strange question but then it became obvious that he didn’t know how our lives had changed so drastically since he last saw me. My then husband said, “They think the baby has Down syndrome”.
He fell against the wall and chose his next words wisely. He said, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware of this”. He then asked us what we were going to name our baby. What??? We’ve just been told our baby may be “different” and you want to know what we are going to name him??? We told him Brock. He then replied, “Might I suggest you name him Brock Matthew or Matthew Brock? You see Matthew means a gift from God and I know you will find that this baby you have been given is truly a gift who will bring you so much joy through out your lives. Don’t be afraid, love him, you’re a special couple to be given this special baby”. We were all silent. I didn’t want him to stop talking. I wanted him to keep saying positive things…encouraging words that we needed to hear. Anything to give us comfort for the life that lay ahead of us. He apologized again for not knowing before he came into our room and then he asked us if the baby was ok or if he had any health issues. After a few more brief words he released me and excused himself (I later learned to go yell at the nurses for not warning him before walking into our room). I don’t remember much after that…well I do but it’s rather personal and I don’t know if I will ever put those memories in writing. Needless to say because of the next events, my then husband and I never had the chance to discuss the name thing.

The next day I was by myself playing with my new baby on the bed and the little lady came walking in my room wheeling her typewriter. She wanted to know what his name would be. It only took a moment for me…”average” or not, at that moment he became Matthew Stewart….a gift from God for his dad. The best name ever!!!

Matt was born on November 8th, he will be 19 in a few weeks and I remember those moments as if they were yesterday. My doctor was right, on November 8th, 1990, I received the greatest gift I could ever receive.

My son…the gift that keeps on giving!

Celebrating Down syndrome

October is Down syndrome awareness month therefore I thought I would take the opportunity to explain (as simply as I can) what Down syndrome is and how much each tiny chromosome makes a difference in the make up of our bodies.

Pre-Matt, I never paid attention or even thought twice about a chromosome. Sure I went to a class at some point in school where a teacher probably tried to teach me about this stuff and I mean no disrespect to that teacher but for some reason it just didn't stick with me. Maybe it was the boys in the class? Maybe it was that I wasn't in class?? Maybe it was a sign that I should have paid attention??? I'm hoping it wasn't the latter since nothing stuck in my head as far as history and geometry goes either. Can you imagine what historical situation I could end up in? My luck I would be on one of Christopher Columbus's ships the Ninja, Pinto, or the Santa Juanita trying to get cooridinates but I’d have no calculator. WTH?

Ok. "Down" to business. What is Down syndrome, otherwise known as Trisomy 21?
Well, it goes something like this…the human body is made up of cells and each of those cells contain chromosomes, 23 pairs to be exact. Each pair has one from mom and one from dad, which ends up giving us a total of 46 chromosomes. A chromosome if you don’t know, makes up our genetic information. In Down syndrome for some reason a split happens in the 21st chromosome (call it a chromosome party I guess) making it three (tri) chromosomes instead of two.
As a result a person who has Down syndrome ends up with 47 chromosomes instead of 46 in each cell. This split repeats itself so every cell ends up with one more or uno mas...the more the merrier right. Ü

There are three genetic variations that can cause Down syndrome however; I think I’ll stop here with teaching you chromosomes 101. There is always Google if I’ve sparked your curiosity and you want to learn more.

What it all comes down to is those tiny chromosomes pretty much control our make up. Are they the cause for heart defects, cleft pallets, larger heads, thicker necks, poor muscle tone, small hands and feet, slanted eyes, intestinal problems, and thyroid dysfunctions? I'm not sure of this but if so, then I think my chromosomes must be thicker than normal…it’s the only explanation I can come up with for being blessed with abundance in my rear, chest and thigh area. Not just uno mas…but mucha mas!

Whew!! are you with me still? I think I may need a cigarette..ha ha

Matt knows he has Down syndrome. He knows he has 47 chromosomes instead of 46. John and I are always telling him he’s lucky because he has more than us. Does he understand it? I don’t think so although he sure recognizes other people who have Ds. He’s very tender and nurturing towards them.

Recently we were at Walmart in the movie section (surprise surprise) and there was a young man with Ds who was playing the Playstation. Matt goes walking by him, notices him and stops and pats him on the back as if to say "it's ok" meanwhile the kid is looking at Matt with the same look. A funny sight really.

And one night we were watching last seasons So You Think You Can Dance tryouts... the one where the young man with Down syndrome from Saratoga Springs was trying out...Matt blurts out "Hey mom, that boy's like ________". I said, "Matt, you're like _______". He looked at me like "whatever mom! what are you smoking?"

Bless his heart...he surprises me everyday.

So in honor of Down syndrome awareness month and those who are blessed with the party in the 21st chromosome, I thank you. I thank you for making me a better person. I thank you for teaching me about compassion, patience, and unconditional love.

And Matt, I thank you for being you. My teacher, my son....

A boy and his ball

Having an extra chromosome in our family brings a flood of different emotions...mostly happy ones that more times than not happen unexpectedly.

It's UEA weekend and as I'm sitting in Fat Cats feeling all fat and happy from the yummy bread stick I've just devoured, I'm watching Matt kick my butt in our first game of bowling (and no I'm not letting him win...mama don't play that way) I'm reminded of an experience that happened to us a couple of years ago at Fat Cats. An experience I hope to never forget.

Let me start by asking you a question...have you ever seen the inside of a bowling ball? I never knew you could see the inside of a bowling ball but leave it to Matt to give me this experience. I can tell you that it looks like a giant size jawbreaker. Made me realize that there are people out there who have jobs actually assembling bowling balls, crazy huh! But that's not what this is about...let's get to the cool part.

Matt has been bowling in the Special Olympics for about the last four years. When he first began my baby brother proudly nicknamed him "Fireball" because Matt likes to throw his ball really fast....he's all about his form you know :) Well we thought it would be fun for him to have his own ball and shoes and because he has this nickname we thought we'd go with that as his theme. After practice one day we went to the shop in Fat Cat's where he picked out a black and red ball with flames...shoes to match. How fitting! Matt was so proud because he used money he had been saving to buy it. His first big purchase.

About two years ago his class went bowling for a field trip at a local bowling alley. It was during this trip that the "fireball" in Matt came out and he threw his bowling ball in his normal form (fast fast fast) only to have it catch the corner of the lane and break. His teacher was shocked and sent me an email letting me know Matt's ball had "broken". Now I know you can't break a ball so I'm expecting to see a chip...certainly not two halves, which is what he brought home. Holy Cow! The ball was barely a year old so we went to Fat Cats to see if they could send it back to the manufacturer. Now Fat Cat's isn't any where near where we live and quite honestly, it's their bread sticks that lure us clear up there...mmmmm just thinking about them.

Anyway, we drove up that same night to show them the ball but they told us that the bowling alley where it broke would have to help us get it taken care of as they technically should be responsible. So we drove all the way back our way and stopped in at the bowling alley where it happened and talked to the manager. He told us that there was nothing wrong with the lane Matt had bowled on but ironically they could see where the ball had a chip in it so the chip in the ball helped break it when it hit the corner and this means it was a defective ball so actually Fat Cat's should be responsible. UGH!!! All I know at this point is that it's starting to sound like nobody wants to help my boy out with his ball and I'm not too thrilled about the run around.

We take the ball back up to Fat Cat's and this time we have Matt with us. They are not happy to see us again as they've already told us once that this is not their responsibility. Just as we expected...this was going to be no easy task and all I wanted was for my boy to have his ball. After a few minutes of bantering back and forth, I could feel the Mama Bear in me starting to emerge...sort of hulkish like...the only problem is when I get this worked up, the tears take over. So big, bad, mama bear is standing there trying not to blubber like an idiot, doing everything she can not to throw herself over the counter to strangle the guy when from no where Matt steps in and saves the day. I swear he's magic!

He has no idea what is going on. He has no idea the odds are against us right now but he walked right up to the guy, grabbed his hand, shook it and said "I'm Matt". The gentleman hesitates, introduces himself to Matt at which point Matt uses his standard come back "Hi...you a smart man". All of us then stood there in silence. The guy asked Matt if he likes to bowl and Matt proceeds with explaining that he bowls in the Special Olympics. Just like that you can feel the tension in the room start to disappear. The guy looks at John and I, takes the receipt, asks if he can keep the ball and tells us he is going to call the manufacturer. We agree to leave the ball and before leaving to head home Matt gives the guy a hug and thanks him over and over and over. At this point I'm feeling really emotional. My son magically changed the mood in that room in a matter of minutes...and he had absolutely no idea. I was so proud and was trying not to let the flood gates open. Honestly, regardless of how proud of him I was, I didn't feel confident that we would have luck getting his ball fixed. In fact, I felt like we would soon be buying him a new ball.

It was about a week later that I was at work and on my work line I got "the call". Our friend at Fat Cats had called to tell us that the manufacturer was not going to fix Matt's ball. I could feel the emotions coming to a head but before I had a chance to get defensive his next words stopped me dead in my tracks....

"Mrs. Hooton, I'm very sorry about your son's ball but I have to tell you that your son touched me in a way that I've never experienced. After you left that night I found myself in the back room crying. Crying because he taught me in a matter of minutes about what's important in life. He made me think of all the things that get me upset and I realized they are little things that are not important. For your son, his ball is important. I'm glad I met your son....I have ordered him a new ball and have taken care of the expense".

Do you feel it? do you feel what I felt that day? I had a knot in my throat and chest the size of a tennis ball. I didn't know what to think or say. I could feel my eyes beginning to sweat. I could feel that I was going to need my tissues and fast. He and I shared a few more kind words and I repeatedly thanked him for being so kind. I hung up and cried....so proud of my magic son.

A few weeks later our new friend was happy to see Matt when we went to pick up his ball...he even surprised him and had it engraved with his nickname "Fireball".

Matt still has that ball and in March 2009, his team took the gold in Special Olympics which sent them to State competition. A few weeks later his team went to the State competition where they took the Gold. It was a great year!!

All because of the magic between a boy and his ball....

Angels

So after I had my baby everyone kept telling me that I had been blessed because Matt is an "angel". OK so maybe he was an angel in the beginning but he's 18 now... need I say more? It turns out I get to experience all the same normalcy's that other parents experience....I thought having an "angel" made me void of that...ha ha was I wrong!

As it turns out, not only is Matt an angel but he loves angels....Victoria Secret Angels that is. Oh boy is he girl crazy...YIKES!! They catch his attention on TV, in movies, and in magazines. So crazy is he that I have to map any trip I make to Target around the lingerie...oh who am I kidding...around the bra section. So crazy is he that one day while cleaning his room I found a torn out page of these angels in their bras folded perfectly in the window section of his wallet...so crazy that he mysteriously ended up with his dad's Maxim calendar hidden under his clock radio... so crazy that he was able to get into a porn website, simply by miss-spelling "Hot Gils". Just when you think it can't get any crazier, he proved us all wrong by subscribing to Sexy Cougars on his phone. UGH!! soooo not only does Matt love girls, he loves older girls and with names like Bustylicious and Bedroom Goddess you can imagine the pictures he was so proud to share with mom. Gotta love his innocence.

Let's face it, my baby boy loves boobs (as he clearly reported to me one day), he's a flirt (you should see him with the girls) and basically he's just like every other man.

I haven't prayed for awhile but boy I am praying now. Lord help me through these years and Lord may there be plenty in my bank account should I ever need to bail my "angel" out of jail.

Amen.....

One More

So I'll be talking about my son a lot in this blog since he is the root of all my humor. He's now 18 (almost 19) years old and I don't think a day goes by that he doesn't crack me up some how. From here on out I'll refer to him as "Matt"...after all that is the name I gave him :)

With the exception of being traumatized early in my pregnancy by learning I was A- blood type and would need the famous "peanut butter" shot, having food poisoning at six months (we had gone to a local Mexican restaurant to celebrate our anniversary and something I ate did not agree with me...I'll spare you the gross details but let's just say I lost 9 pounds within 24 hours and ended up in the hospital getting hydrated), and falling in construction cement glue at seven months (now this is a story that's much better told in person but I'll give you enough to make you chuckle...imagine being huge, falling flat on your back in the glue, and then your caring co workers trying so desperately to get the glue off, using of all things...tissues...that's right, a huge, prego woman looking like a tarred and feathered chicken...go ahead, visualize and laugh, believe me I do), other than these great moments, my pregnancy was fairly easy. I now believe I was given an easy pregnancy to make up for the not so easy life that was ahead of me.

When I was pregnant, all I wanted of my baby was for "her" to have hair and a vajay jay...I got one out of the two plus "something extra". "He" was born with a big patch of hair at 11:15 pm and it was about three hours later that my then husband and I learned our baby boy had an extra chromosome...otherwise known as Down syndrome. Our precious baby boy, was not like all those other babies he was laying next to in the nursery. Our experience had changed and was nothing like all the other new parents who were celebrating that evening.

No, we were a young couple, having our first child, and our happy world had just ended.

And a happier world had just begun...

Blogger Virgin

So I'm new to this whole bloggin thing so bare with me as I'm trying to figure all of this out.

Humor seems to find me in one way or another and I thought what better way to remember all of these humorous events than to publicly journal about them (because we all know we want our journals publicized). I'll do you all a favor and will try to leave the inappropriate stuff out...or not :)

I was hoping these would be stories that because of their humor would stay on the tip of my brain forever however, I'm afraid I have to admit my memory just isn't what it used to be...that or there are just so many of them my sweet little brain is stuffed...like a Thanksgiving turkey. Whatever the reason, I'm resorting to writing them down and sharing them. I only hope that my dear old memory hasn't lost the best of them.

This will probably be like one of those movies where it's present then past then present then past so hopefully you'll be able to keep up with me.
To some of you...these may be like re runs of Brady bunch but, if you're anything like me, you love re runs of Brady Bunch.

And so we begin....