A hobby I have is to frame photos, hang photos. Like the books that surround me and sit upon my bookshelf, it is as if a thousand words shout out from from the bound pages to remember the time, the memories, and the feeling I got upon each turn of the page.

The same goes for photos, I guess I surround myself with photos to remember a blip of a moment that was good, captured for at least as long as the photo doesn’t fade or before the computer crashes and I loose I hard drive.

I hang pictures of our adventures in almost every turn of our house. It lightens the load as I butter the bread for dinner or throw another load into the laundry. And it some ways, it makes the next moment as good as the one hanging on the wall.

With Thanksgiving come and gone, it was like it never was. In Costa Rica it’s just a regular old Thursday and Black Friday is just another day before the weekend. The whole U.S. holiday frenzy was a tiny blip on our family’s computer screen.

I finally let Coco open a few box of Christmas decorations, and though she was a glittery and happy, I felt cheap. Oh well, it was a small price to pay in order to avoid buying a turkey, which costs almost as much as my rent….or at least felt like it.

I did stop to give thanks though. Thanks for everything. And most importantly, I’m not a turkey on Thanksgiving day (though I’ve been known to wear a lampshade over my head on occassion).

I thought I’d seen a lot until I saw this guy. Now, he wasn’t terribly wild, I’ve seen his kind before. My kids thought it was really something. Then, just when I’d thought I seen it all….

….yhe guy on stilts gives directions to lost woman in mall. True to the kind Costa Rican character, even a guy on stilts has time to lend a helping hand. Life is full of surprises.

With my old car biting the dust, I’ve gotten the full treatment from just about every type of taxi guy out there. In Costa Rica, women rarely take on the job of taxi drivers. I’m starting to see a few construction workers that are women, but it’s mostly men.

There’s the guy who babbles on about the high price of the new toll booth and what robbery it is; there’s the guy who’s car dies at the stop lights; there’s the guy with a pressed shirt and tie; and though most of the taxis are very clean, some seem to have more glue holding them together than original parts. Some are quiet and many, though not all, use a speaker phone when they get a cell phone call. And all used la maria - the meter for our ride so I could see the price of my fare.

In the end, the two of us usually warm up to each other. A few I call back to take me to the doctor for an appointment. One didn’t show up, but generally they always are prompt and even sometimes get out open the door.

With my new car on hold until the license plates arrive, I’ll get to lug about town a few more weeks as I run to this and that. Maybe when I get my car, I might even hop in a taxi, just for old times sake. There’s nothing like getting a taste of regular-old Costa Rica by hopping on a bus or taking a taxi. That’s a real lesson in culture.

At least I wasn’t in my pajamas…Right there in front of my computer, my dear friend (who’ve I yet to meet) said she’d given me an award. After lugging Addison to the hospital for a blood appointment which was rescheduled for another day, and the crappy news that I had to go back on Thursday to read a needle test and fork out another hunk of cash for a taxi as the dealer says the car won’t be ready for two weeks because they have to wait for the license plates because, after all it is a developing country and who’d want to be efficient??!! Anyway…..I think I just digressed.

This beautiful thing that can happen with computers (if we don’t become addicted to emails and APPS) is that we get to know people around the world without ever having to suffer bad airline food. (And, if we want we can stay in our pajamas till the kids come home!)

Momcat is a regular reader and often gives me a lift when I need it. Check out her site and give her a boost. She’s great. And moms are great. We’re the new force to be reckoned with. This handy dandy machine will bring us together and change the world inside and out of our homes. As I dig out of the whirlwind of divorce and caring for a special needs kids, I’ve found that these messages and moments of thoughts I get from all over the world save me from the pits. More than once.

Thanks Momcat.

We have to accept help. Since the birth of my son, I’ve known that taking care of a child with special needs has to involve a community. First, of course, it comes from inside the family. After reading all those books by all the experts that tell us all the places we must go to check the list of all the “possible” deformities, maladies, or complications, it can become overwhelming, confusing, and even maddening.

A place I found especially confusing after returning from many of those appointments and asking for help, I seem to be right back in the same place. I’ve learned after asking for help, and not getting it, I’ve got to ask again. Pushing harder isn’t always what I want to do when I’m tired. But if someone doesn’t help, someone else will. Otherwise, we’re all going to break down. Managing a special needs kid is a lot. Kids are a lot. We all need help.

Each Down Syndrome case has it’s own special medical mix. And, we might have to just keep running to all those appointments, but help has to come from our community. Even a ride to an appointment or watching another child or taking the kids for a weekend so the parents can get a break can be a powerful force of healing.

Special needs kids are a gift to our society. They make us slow down and focus on love and bring unity to those who bond together to really care for someone as they struggle to survive and ultimately thrive in the world.

Down Syndrome, special needs belongs to all of us. It’s one thing to say it. It’s another to really help the process, and the parents, along.

One of the modern day habits I left behind is the daily news on television. It is possible to get American television stations, thus it’s pretty easy to stay tuned to what the American media has to say.

Every few months or so, I sit down and take in a dose of morning shows like Today and Good Morning America. That’s turned out to be quite enough. In one morning I learned that one woman tried to kill her husband like three times and got caught by an undercover cop. Chasity Bono is now Chaz Bono. And the medical profession has down a big switch on how effective and when to get mammograms.

What we knew was true, swore to be true often changes. I remember when Chasity was a cute little girl on the Sonny and Cher show. And how many times have we found out one thing we do in the medical world is just plain bad for us or wrong or upside down? My father’s family grew up eating bacon and pig fat. And plenty of it. They swore by it.

I think I’ll cling to nothing that seems logical. And, I think I’ll watch perhaps even a little bit less of those morning shows.

Something so rare and wonderful happened. This story will make no headlines, yet it’s impact travel for miles. This simple story shows how life can be made better - around the world and in an instant. Pretty it’s not.

A few weeks ago back when Addison was in the hospital, he grew a lot stronger after the first few days. An I.V. in his leg kept us from using the bathroom. We were given a bed pan. For some reason, the illness did not effect his digestive system. Addison became famous for shouting and welcoming the food cart with glee. Comida! He’d say as he wiggled his hands by his mouth. And several times a day, that food made it’s way back out again.

One morning as the rush of sheet changing and bathing bustled about the ward, Addison needed to go to the bathroom. Quickly. I stood him up, and he got to work. Thinking he was finished, I covered the bed pan so I could dump it out later. I began to finish dressing him, when the second load (if you know what I mean) came down. The large deposit landed on my arm and the just cleaned sheets. Nurses began barking commands at me to get organized, explaining that the dump needed to be dealt with. (I needed an explanation on this??!!)

Anyway… I stood there with Addison unable to move because if I set him down, he’d be swimming in it. I couldn’t reach the bed pan. I looked across the isle to one of our ward “mates.” This single mother and I bonded often over drugs, exams, and finding the best position to get some sleep. She quickly came over when my eyes pleaded for help. She found the wet wipes and grabbed the bed pan so I could scoop up the problem. Once corralled, I stood with the goods in my hand and finally set Addison down. We’d have to change sheets again, but at least the worst was over.

Then, without being told or asked, the woman’s son from across the isle came to me and asked me if he could dump the contents of the pan out for me. He was ten. In a second I dropped to the size of a pea. Would I do that? He happily walked down the hall, cleaned the contents, and slid the pan under the bed upon his return.

Headline: Ten Year Old Dumps Out Another Child’s Bedpan. Riveting, perhaps not. But it was life changing for me. When I think I give until it hurts, so often in Costa Rica I am put back in my place when, yet again, another person offers me something I’d never expect. I try to live by that example and hope that some day I’ll have the courage to dump out some one’s bed pan, someone I don’t even know. I can’t help but think that’s the stuff that will turn our world into a real paradise.

I could never really thank the woman and her son. It seemed like such a small way to repay such a heartening kindness. We spent a few more days together, talking, being bored together, and wondering when we could go home.

(As a side note: Addison here is very bored with his food and sighed between each bite, which turned the meal into an almost two hour process!).

They finally went home. I hoped to never return. The boy was thrilled and proud his mother was going to take a the $20.00 taxi ride home. A big bite out of their food budget, I was sure. The ten year old looked back one last time and said: Addison. Throwing up his thumb and smiling on his way out. This kid changed a little bit of the world and would never know it.

Going up and down an escalator never will rank as high adventure in any guide book in Costa Rica. Neither will operating a blender. But I am always amazed when I meet people that have never done so many things I easily take for granted. For them, it’s quite the thrill ride.

We checked out the new mall this weekend. It’s big. Three stories of shops. Three stories of escalators. We finally got one of our nannies to go up and down. Once. That was it though. She quickly sought out the stairs instead. She was thrilled we could take the elevator after getting our fill of balloon animals in one of the new department stores.

We’ve all got those quirky fears. In New York, I was waiting for an elevator when a woman decided to get over her fear of riding elevators right then and there. (She lived in New York. I resisted asking the obvious.)  We went up and down a few times and said good-bye. She was thrilled with herself.  I don’t know if she conquered all her fears, but one at a time I guess is we can ask of each other.

The musical Santa boxes are on display; the reindeer’s noses already shine; the candy canes glow proudly upon the damp evening grass. It’s Christmas in Costa Rica. We wait for no one.

Stores bring out the merchandise faster than a person can throw out the rotting pumpkin. And since Halloween really isn’t an event in Costa Rica, and we don’t celebrate the Thanksgiving in November, there’s no holiday to block our way to get the holiday juices flowing.

Coco asked me to sing Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer when she got home from school. I refused. It was just odd. The leaves are still falling. It’s not windy yet. It’s six weeks away for goodness sakes!

She looked down at her shoes and twiddled her fingers in a face that resembled a slight tinge of despair. I found myself singing it despite feeling like a cheap ornament as I tripped over the lyrics. I flipped open the laptop and found several renditions on YouTube.

Just six more weeks to go.