Yesterday I saw Wes put on his shoe all by himself, for the very first time ever. He skipped socks, but who was I to complain?

This week I learned about a service run by a group of volunteers at BYU called Athletic Connection. Every Saturday morning during fall and winter semesters they have BYU athletes come meet with special needs kids for an hour. It sounded right up Wesley’s alley. Wes LOVES anything to do with balls. ANYTHING. He is always asking to watch football on TV (too bad the season is ended), or to re-watch the YouTube video I have of him bowling, and he loves shooting hoops and hitting baseballs. He has a good arm, and good aim, too.

I checked to see how old kids need to be and was told that they have kids as young as five and as old as 41. So I thought Wes, age 4.5, would do OK.

Today the BYU women’s soccer team was scheduled to be there. We showed up a few minutes late, but the team wasn’t there yet. There was a good group assembled, a mix of moms and their kids (all the special needs kids, as far as I could tell, had Down syndrome like Wes), the kids’ siblings, and BYU volunteers.

The volunteers did a great job with the kids (I use that term loosely; there were adults with Down syndrome present, too). When the soccer team didn’t come and didn’t come (they never showed up!) they got the kids involved in a game of duck duck goose. Wes was happy just running back and forth endlessly in the big gymnasium, but once the game got going he joined in. This video shows Wes just as the game is breaking up to start a new game of hide-and-go-seek, but Wes didn’t catch on that the game was ending and he merrily continued anyway. I’ve never seen him play duck duck goose. He says, “Duck, duck, duck, duck, DUCK!” and then runs. He can run around that circle forever!

After hide-and-go-seek ended they started football drills. Since the soccer team never showed, they called in back-up: the uncle of the one of the boys with Down syndrome. Vic So’oto played football at BYU and now plays NFL for the Green Bay Packers.

He was great with the kids. First he helped them do some warm up moves, involving high stepping…

…and then they did some stretches in a circle.

They lined up against the wall and started football drills.

They did some drills involving running from the wall, across the gym, around a person, and back to the wall.

Then they repeated the drill, only they had to shuffle sideways.

Yup. Wes had a good time.

Twice a year I’m supposed to get Wesley’s blood drawn to test his thyroid. Thyroid disorders are highly common among people with Down syndrome. They take one single blood draw and test for two things: Free T-4s and TSH.

The first time I had it done I was hit with a shocker bill: about $500.

Our insurance didn’t cover the tests, it turns out. I decided to only get his blood tested once a year, but the last time it was tested it came back inconclusive and they told me to go do it again. I just couldn’t bear to spend the money and didn’t think it was necessary.

Fast forward at least a year. Maybe two. How long has it been? I decided it was time to take the doctor’s order off my fridge and go get Wesley’s blood taken again.

But this time I used my head and called each lab in the area to see how prices compared. I learned this trick when I found out that the cost of prescription drugs can vary hugely among pharmacies, and if you’re paying for it out-of-pocket, it’s smart to call around first.

Turns out this was a good idea. I had been getting Wesley’s blood taken at the lab in the hospital that’s on our insurance plan. About $500, like I said. No discounts if you pay up front. The hospital that’s closer to us charged only about $150, and they give a 40% discount if you pay right away.

It cost $96 to get Wesley’s thyroid tests done. Still $$, but next to $500 I can’t complain.

So that’s one hurdle cleared. The other was handling both kids while a nurse stuck a needle in Wesley’s arm to draw blood. I knew that would not be fun.

I took the kids on Saturday. The lab was new and really nice. They had a spacious lobby with dozens of (empty) chairs and a three-story tall ceiling. Wes enjoyed running from one end of the lobby to the other (which ended in a set of closed doors). The receptionist waved her hand and said, “Oh, he can’t get past those doors.” I took that to mean, “They’re locked.”

Wrong. Wes trotted over and pushed the giant round handicap-access button, and suddenly he had a whole new long hallway to run down. Good thing I can sprint pretty fast.

Once I had him collected and it was our turn we met the nurse and her assistant. As soon as we walked back to the lab area both kids turned suspicious and started whining/crying. Kids are smart; they know when something’s up.

Both nurses were both very nice, which was a relief. Occasionally we’ve had nurses that are kind of abrupt with kids. The head nurse held up the rubber band for Wes to touch and told him she was going to put it on his arm like a bracelet. He was OK with that. I warned the nurse that he has small veins, since the last time I had his blood taken it took three tries in one arm and then another in his other arm before they got what they needed. (Which might be an unconscious reason why I postponed getting the test done again for so long.) But today Wesley’s veins looked great. “Anatomically correct” is what one of the nurses said.

I was told to hold Wesley’s left arm while they poked the right in case he tried to push the needle away. But Wes was as passive as a patient could get. He cried, but he never once tried to move his arm or struggle in any way. (I told this to John afterward, and he shook his head; we both want Wes to be LESS passive, so as to stand up for himself more. But it came in handy for getting his blood taken.)

As soon as the the blood was drawn (quick), the nurses opened the Prize Drawer and Wes got his very own balloon bouncer, and Carissa (who was crying when Wes cried) got a sucker and rubber ducky. And Wes additionally got a red bandage on his arm that he was very anxious to show Daddy when we got home. Overall, it couldn’t have gone better.

After that was over I took both kids to the BYU Bean Museum to see the (dead) animals. (I’ve always thought this place is kind of weird–dead, stuffed animals everywhere–and it smells funny, but the kids like it.)

Wes is making the sign for deer while saying, “Deeeeer!”

“Growl!” Both my kids can imitate a bear nicely.

There was a documentary about flying snakes and squirrels. Carissa is a TV junkie already.

Then we stopped at a bakery for a cupcake and ice cream.

Why you shouldn’t leave your kid unattended by the sink for very long:

We tried out a new jumping place that opened recently. It’s small (three bounce houses, one inflated slide, and a giant jumping pillow) but it was good for Wes. We went just as it opened. It wasn’t busy, and the kids who showed up were about his same age or younger. There were a couple balls he could play with. He went on everything, including the jumping pillow. He had a really good time.

Wes is so smart and loves counting. He can count to 20. Here he is counting to 16…

Somebody got into the cookie jar.

Tonight Wes ate dinner like Carissa usually does, bib and all.

He is also mastering the skill of climbing.

Carissa is picking up on puzzles. She’s getting good at matching pictures and making the pieces fit.

I’m working on getting Carissa a passport. The specifications for a passport photo are very specific: normal head angle, neutral facial expression, clear image, white background, good lighting, etc. You can take the photo at home by yourself, but I thought it’d be easier to just take her to the store and have them both take and print the pictures on site. I took Wes in to this same store for his passport photo when he was about a year old, and it was easy.

This time, it was the opposite of easy.

The second we neared the photo department it was like Carissa smelled strange people (the two photo attendants) that were going to ask her to do strange things (like look at a camera and not cry), and she instantly made it clear that she wasn’t going to have any of it.

After a few minutes of me holding Carissa up to a white background and her crying profusely while the (male) photo attendant said over and over, “Can you calm her down?” I decided to call it quits. We went home and later in the afternoon I had John sit with her against one of our many white walls to photograph her myself.

It went much better. The passport website has a free tool that lets you resize your photo to the proper dimensions. I took it in to the store and they printed it for me.

Viola. And soon we can travel the world.