The Three Amigos

One final souvenir from the boys' trip to Albuquerque.

Tim's dad has written me-- with some great encouragement and to ask more about Kean.

What a sweet experience to match a sweet Father's Day story.



Beautiful TV

If you didn't get a chance to see the story on the CBS Evening News about "Tim's Place"... take a few minutes to watch it now.  This is what television should be.

Les wrote: "Thank you Steve Hartman, Miles Doran , Allison and all the folks at Tim's Place...folks, this is why I still look forward to work, and love Journalism. Lonni- Lonni Leavitt-Barker ...hope we did Keane proud!  http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-18563_162-57454369/tims-place-restaurant-takes-unique-approach-thanks-to-special-owner/?tag=showDoorLeadStoriesAreaMain%3BENLeadHero"

The Whirlwind Tour

I told you the other day how GiGi got to go with Grandpa and Grammy on a trip

(to make up for the fact they are taking Holland to Texas in a few weeks to see my niece).

Anyway, the trip was a rager!

My mom, Aunties and Grandmother took Greer with them

to see Hairspray at the Tuacahn outdoor theatre near St. George, Utah.

I've never been but I hear the setting is stunning (it is the red rock canyons).

My mom took several pictures of Greer with the cast after the show.

Here's a couple...

The other major highlight was going on a date with these two...

Chris and April.

April and I grew up one house away from each other in Vegas.

We used to play "Charlie's Angels" and sneak through our neighbors backyard.

It was only later we learned he was a hit man for the mob.

No kidding.

That explains why he used to get so mad at us!

Anyway... they picked up Greer from my parents house

and took her out on the town.

They went to see the Cirque de Soleil show:  The Beatle's LOVE

at the Mirage, then out to dinner (which she slept through).

The next morning, it was out for a yummy breakfast

(Greer claims she ate something along the lines of 20 pancakes),

then swimming with April's friend's daughter - they've become fast friends...

and then to see the new Madagascar movie.

She came home giddy, chatty and exhausted.

Talk about memorable!

Tears, Smiles (and hugs too)!

So most of you know I used to work for CBS in L.A. where I made fast friendships with two

of my favorite people in the world:  Les Rose and Steve Hartman.

You might remember Les from our trip to Disneyland/California.  He's the one who smuggled us

onto the sets of The Price Is Right, The Bold and the Beautiful and The Young and The Restless.  Les is one of the nicest guys you'll ever be lucky enough to meet.  As a news photographer, he has this knack for putting people

at ease and getting them to open up and be themselves.

Steve just so happens to be one of the best writers in television.  He can often be found as the final story in the

CBS Evening News or on CBS's Sunday Morning.

I got an email from the boys yesterday that they were headed to New Mexico for a story "I might find interesting".

They were headed to profile a man in his twenties, who also happens to have Down syndrome.

Tim is quite the force of nature. 

He won a gold medal in the Special Olympics, he was voted Homecoming King at his high school winning with a record number of votes.

And get this, he graduated from college and has opened up his own restaurant "Tim's Place"... where along with good food; customers can order hugs from Tim.

Hugs are actually on the menu.

Les sent me a few articles on Tim, including the speech Tim's father, Keith gave at Tim's college graduation.

Here's a tiny excerpt that brought big tears from me...

 

As long as I live, I'll never forget the look on Jeannie's face as I entered the room. She knew instinctively that something was wrong. My heart broke for her, for our newborn son Tim, and for our family. Would our lives ever be the same? Raise your hand if you've lived through a similar scene. It's not something I'd wish on anyone. Well, time has a way of changing our perspectives if we're open to it. A few weeks later, I got the nerve up to call a local support group and a short time later we were visited at home by a family with a three year old daughter with Down syndrome. The doorbell rang; I opened the door and was greeted by one of many angels I'd have the chance to meet in my life. This particular angel was about two and a half feet tall, blond, and had a smile and a laugh that could light up a room. The afternoon flew by, the angel played with our son Danny, and their family life looked pretty normal to me. Hope emerged. The fear and dread faded. Life moved ahead.
Several very busy years passed and suddenly Tim was in first grade. Our family had grown and we now had four sons, all two years apart in age; Tim being second oldest.

More time passed and now Tim was in Eldorado High School in Albuquerque. Tim was enormously popular in High School, mostly I think because of his uncanny knack for connecting with everyone no matter what group or click they belonged to. The athletes, the cheerleaders, the brainy kids, the skateboarder crowd, the group that all dressed in black and smoked cigarettes like chimneys across the street. They all called Tim friend. Well, almost everyone. A story we heard, after the fact, occurred during Tim's freshman year. Apparently, a couple of boys decided to corner Tim every day after school and make him give up his left over lunch money. Tim, being a pacifist, didn't resist or tell anyone. This apparently went on for some time. One afternoon that fall, during the daily shakedown, loud footsteps came from down the hall. It was the Varsity football team heading out to practice. The boys, many of whom had known Tim from elementary school saw the villains in action.
What happened next was described to us later by Tim. "The team dented the lockers in the hall with those guys, Tim said. "Oh, and they called them bowling balls and slid them down the hall, too. The "bad guys" were warned that if they ever went near Tim again they would be very, very sorry. Some angels wear football uniforms and cleats.

I met Tim on the phone today.

And he's an angel.

Les had him call me.

Only point 4 seconds into the conversation I was choking up.

He told me to always remember that my son and I have more in common than we have differences.

I was wishing I was at Tim's Place and could order up one of those hugs.

But what he gave me on the phone was pretty darn close.

So far Tim has filled 18 thousand plus orders for hugs at his restaurant!

Steve and Les's story will air this Friday night on the CBS Evening News.

It is scheduled to air again on Father's Day (fitting, eh?) during the

Sunday Morning With Charles Osgood show.

I'll be watching.

Devious

My little man, Keanut moved to a new level this morning.  For, oh, it feels like forever (but it's probably only been a year), we have been dealing with the issue of him throwing his food from his high chair.
And I mean, throwing his food. 
Nearly everything gets tossed.
Most of the time, it land on the floor (just call me Cinderella-- I swear I spend half of my life cleaning that floor).
And sometimes it lands with a smack on Reese (who is lucky enough to be seated in his firing range).
She's so used to it, she rarely even reacts anymore.
Routinely, we just pick it up off the floor and try to get him to eat some of it-- which eventually happens.
Anyway, we have tried EVERYTHING! 
And this morning was no exception.
He ate a few bites of pancakes (blueberry- which is a bear to clean) and chucked a few pieces.
After I scolded him for the 9 thousand 800 and 42 gazillioneth time -- and I'm not exaggerating...
he took his pancake piece, slid his arm down his side, underneath the high chair tray and casually dropped it on the floor.
I'm sure he didn't think I'd notice.
And then he did it again.
And again.
And again.
I was so surprised by his new level of "trickiness" that I had to look away....
lest he see my smile and grow encouraged.
He may not talk or walk but he has a Doctorate in driving his mom crazy.

Grandma's My Name and Spoilin's My Game

While we are here in Idaho going from 91 degrees on one day to 54 the next, Greer is melting in Vegas.

My folks took her with them for a week-long trip. 

She's already had her first pedicure (yeah, I know, I'm a lame mom and have never taken her).

They drove down to St. George, Utah for a few days

where she has met her soul mate-- my cousins' daughter, Laney.  I guess they were

joined at the hip, have become fast friends and have covered their entire life

histories in one loooonnnnngggg conversation.

My mom and Grandma and aunties also took her to the outdoor theatre, Tuacahn's production

of Hairspray.

And tomorrow she's in for another surprise.

One of my childhood best friends, April and her husband Chris (they met us in Disneyland)

are picking her up, taking her out to dinner, to the Mirage to see the Cirque's Beatles Love show and then to dessert.

I have a feeling she will come back to us here and find herself perpetually bored after this adventure. 

Growing Up and Letting Go

Oh, for heaven's sake, I am such a blubbering fool.

We are in the looooonnnnnggggg process (7 meetings) to transition Kean from

the Infant - Toddlers program where he gets all of his therapy at home to the school district

where he will get most of his therapy in school.

Yes, I said school.  He turns three in August and will go into a special pre-school.

I've already met his teacher-to-be and she is wonderful.

Last week, I had to take him to school so he could be observed in the classroom for three hours.

I want you to know, I held it together in the parking lot...

 And in the classroom.

Even though right before we got there, a boy had thrown up in the bathroom (they were keeping him in there

with an aid until his mom could come get him), another mother grabbed her son and said she was out of there because

she didn't need to deal with any more germs or illness in her home... and another kid was sobbing and clinging to his mother.

It wasn't quite the calm classroom I had envisioned.

I played with Kean for about 45 minutes and then left him with an aid.

There are about 7 kids in the class, two aids, a teacher, a physical therapist, an occupational therapist and a speech therapist work with the children.

Talk about a village.

That's his teacher, Ashley in the black playing with him.

He looks so tiny and IS TINY.  One of the other kids kept coming up to him and calling him "baby".

And he does look like a baby in there-- he doesn't walk, only says a couple of words and signs a few signs.

In many areas, he tested on the level of a 13 month old.  Can you imagine sending a 13 month old to school?

Ug.

When I came back to get him, Ashley said he had played for a while, then burst into tears when he realized

I was gone. Settled down, played some more, then cried some more.

He finally exhausted himself and slept through a chunk of the class.

Go figure.

I'm embarrassed to admit, I lost it in the parking lot after I left him.

That kid was right... he is a baby -- my baby.

We will get through this.