Moe, Matthew warm the heart on a snow day

In other edition of “If I had known then what I know now….” I never would have shed a tear.

So, as I’m writing this, I’m sitting at my “desk” in my family room – working from home. There’s about 3 inches of snow on the ground, but apparently that’s enough to shut down Montgomery County. All three of my children are home.

That should be enough information to give you an idea of what my day has been like so far. My daughter is a high school English teacher – she got the call around 6 in the morning that school was off. She went back to bed, and slept till almost noon. Must be nice.

My older son is also working from home. And to his credit, he is actually working. But he has to sit at the dining room table because the internet signal in his room is too weak. So, when his sister forced herself from her slumber, Tommy too said, “must be nice.”

My youngest son got the call the night prior to the “storm” that school would be closed. Which, of course, prompted him to ask immediately, “can I stay up late?” Absolutely, I answered, thinking that would then create a perfect state of slumber for both him and his sister. And in turn, give me a peaceful and efficient start to the news day. He was up at 5:50 a.m. My day starts at 5:30 a.m., so I had an uninterrupted 20 minutes of work to start the day. Woo-hoo. So, for all of you out there who are envious of people who work from home – come to my house during a snow day. Unless you live in a huge home, with dedicated office space (including a door with a security keypad to allow access) and soundproof walls – which, of course, I don’t – working from home is not nearly as good as it sounds.

Snow days stretch my work days from 8 hours to approximately the next morning – at least that’s what it seems like. Because I deal with Tommy asking me where the rock salt is, Matthew needing his glasses cleaned and my daughter totally stymied about how to handle a seemingly empty chocolate syrup bottle. Seriously, she was totally at a loss – like throwing out a not-completely-empty bottle would force a home invasion by the chocolate syrup police and we would be banned forever from ever enjoying Hershey’s chocolate syrup again.

It was so bad, Matthew finally yelled in from the family room, “IT’S EMPTY KAITLYN JUST THROW IT OUT !!!!!! JEEZ LOUISE !!!! ”

One of the bright spots in my day.

To her credit, Kaitlyn was just being conscientious. But for Pete’s sake, it’s not like you have to find donors to get more chocolate syrup. And then there’s Moe…. Moe is our new cat. Named not after the famed star of the Three Stooges. Named because that’s how Matthew pronounces “no.”

When we were thinking about taking in one

of the stray kittens in our neighborhood, I learned there was another kitten that needed a home as well. I was telling Tommy about what would be the fourth feline in our home (we trapped and neutered 2 other stray kittens a few years ago, and they now dominate the household), and before he could say “crazy cat lady” Matthew just bellowed “MOOOOO.”

We both looked at him, and he added, “mo, mo cats.” Tommy and I then looked at each other and said in unison, “what a great name for a cat.”

While the fourth kitten

never quite made our house her home, Moe certainly did. And one of Moe’s most favorite things to do is play pool with Matthew – well, he loves to interrupt Matthew’s game (on one of those small game tables).

So, on this snow day, Matthew was trying his best at pool, and Moe was trying his best to prevent him from playing. At first, Matthew was really annoyed that the cat even existed, let alone was batting the eight ball around. I finally said (because I was trying very hard to come up with a

column idea and needed to concentrate) “Matthew, did you ever hear the expression if you can’t beat them, join them?”

He looked at me and said, “No, and I don’t know what you’re saying.”

OK, I answered, “instead of getting angry at Moe, why don’t you try playing with him – include him. Maybe you’ll both have fun.”

I then put my mind back to newspaper stuff. Then I heard Kaitlyn yelling to Matthew to put her phone down. My mind was still on newspaper stuff, miraculously.

Then, it happened – the “if I had known then what I know now” moment….

Matthew telling Moe to “just hold still.”

I turned to see Matthew trying to take a selfie – using without permission Kaitlyn’s phone – with Moe.

“Darn it!! Come back here Moe.”

Moe took off, with Matthew taking off after him, yelling, “let me just take our picture!!!”

They both went running into the living room, and I sat here, at my desk (which is just a card table with plywood over it) and laughed.

When things like this happen I like to go back in time and remember those days when the thought having a child with Down syndrome scared the beejeezus out of me.

Finding out about that extra chromosome while I was pregnant was a good thing, and a bad thing. I’d like to believe it prepared us for having a child with special needs. But I don’t think anything really prepares you. I was able to do research and get really great prenatal care from my regular OBs,f Dr. John Fitzgerald and Dr. Jim Mollick, but I was also faced with a harsh and ugly attitude from the specialist I saw at Abington hospital. No the perinatologist I saw for the initial diagnosis of Down syndrome wasn’t as “accepting.” While “counseling” me, he told me my baby had fluid around his heart (he didn’t) and that he would probably die in utero. I would miscarry, I asked. He said no, you’ll give birth to a dead baby. His exact words.

That slap was bad enough. He followed up with these words…

“Mrs. Rodgers, people have a distorted view of Down syndrome. They see these kids on TV (Corky was a character on television at the time) and think their child is going to be just like him. Well, that is usually never the case. These children are slow, have a lot of medical issues.”

Well, I said, I’m having this baby.

He looked at me with what I perceived as pity… and I’m pretty sure he was looking at me like I was the stupidest person he’d ever talk to.

I’m having the baby, I repeated.

During my pregnancy with Matthew I cried – a lot. I was scared, pretty sure my husband and I weren’t fit to raise a baby with special needs and thought for sure our lives, as we knew them, were going to come crashing down around us.

Now I cry because this kid WILL NOT STOP TALKING.

Or making fun of his sister, who is an adult and a teacher, yet still gets pestered by a little brother. Or forcing Tommy to wrestle. Or reminding both his brother and sister that “Mom loves me better than you.” “And Mom raised me better than you.”

Life if a competition for him – and trust me, he wins every time.

So, as I’m finishing up this column, there’s peace in the house. Matthew is in Tommy’s room playing Xbox – we had to put on a parental block so he can’t play Grand Theft Auto. Tommy is still working at the dining room table, and Kaitlyn is doing work for her grad classes. And I’m realizing, today wasn’t a total loss because of snow. I got a good laugh from the selfie debacle, and, more importantly, I got my column written.