If you read back to the blog: “When life gives you lemons, sometimes they squirt you in the eye” you will learn a lot about my little booger brother, Eric. This blog is to show you some of the hilarious moments he has brought to our family.
Scenario one: When Eric was little, he loved to lock his bedroom door and destroy the room he shared with Levi. Obviously the parents didn’t approve of a pig sty and Levi wasn’t too fond of Eric going through all of his things. After this happened several times, my dad had a brilliant idea! He turned the door knob around so the lock was on the outside. I think you can probably see where this is going.
One night mom and dad went out on a little date leaving Eric, Levi and I with a babysitter. We were all in Eric and Levi’s room, playing with toys and having a good time when we realized… Eric was no longer in the room and the door was shut! Yep, locked in. The babysitter hoisted me out the window so I could run in the house and unlock the door. Luckily we all escaped before the house was entirely destroyed!
Scenario two: On a Saturday afternoon we were all spending time outside. Mom was in the garden, Levi and I were running through the sprinkler in our swimsuits, dad was putting new shingles on the roof, and Eric was washing dad’s car. This all went on for a few hours.
When my dad was done with the roof for the day, Eric told him, “the car is all clean and I filled it up.” Dad went over to see a shiny car, and, a shiny driveway? The hose was inserted into the car, with water and gasoline pouring out of the side.
Just when my dad thought he was done for the day, he ended up spending the next four hours under the car tinkering with the fuel cell and whatever other parts pertain to gas. Somewhere in the process a piece broke off (I don’t know what part because I’m way too involved in this blog to study up on my automobile components). Long story short the check engine light is forever gleaming. To fix the issue, my dad stuck one of those cute smiley Walmart stickers over it to remind himself daily of the wonderful Eric.
Scenario three: This is probably my favorite story. One cold February afternoon my dad was watching tv when he saw a lovely stuffed elephant leap down past the downstairs window. Eric had decided to inspire Levi with another one of his amazing teases.
My dad walked upstairs to find all of the boys’ stuffed animals piled on the roof outside their bedroom window. Though the best punishment would be to fling Eric out after the plush creatures, my dad’s judgment told him sending the deviant onto a snow covered roof in mid-february was definitely not the greatest of ideas. So my father, barefoot, creeped out of the two story window to set foot on the snow laden roof with only a sweatshirt, jeans, and a giant soppy bunny to keep him warm. He threw in a couple animals, then whiipp! Eric slammed the window shut as fast as he could and flipped the locks over. Great. Now knowing Eric had the upper-hand, my dad tried to smooth talk him with genuine fatherly love. “Eric, would you pretty please open the window? It’s sooo cold out here!” ziipp. Eric pulled the curtains shut! Now there were two options. My dad either had to throw his over-the-hill body over the roof to the slushy ground, or knock for dear life! Knock knock knock knock!! Luckily, Levi came to save the day. He opened the window and let my freezing father back into the comfort of our heated home.
Everyday my little brothers bring a new chapter to our quirky family. There are the moments where they toot and say, “oops, I burped out of my butt” or the fact that Eric has pranked called 9-1-1 so many times that the fire station has us on a call back list to make sure there is actually an emergency. But at the end of the day, we can thank God for our events that helped us live, laugh, love, learn, and leave a legacy. In all, it’s just a beautiful chapter of God’s plans while we journey through our special world.
For my next few blogs I am dying to share with you some of my craziest and funniest experiences that I have had with my little brothers.
This blog is about Levi.
When Levi was younger, he had a bit of an issue on making it to the bathroom. (Whoah! Gross, no one wants to hear a story about that! Bare with me here. I promise this blog has nothing to do with fecal matter.) Anyways, my parents were running out of options to help Levi with the potty training issue. The last resort: bribery. On the very top shelf in our bathroom cupboard was a plastic box filled with all sorts of goodies. There was candy, those cheap little toys you get at the dollar store, and Levi’s favorite: animal figurines. Simply, every time Levi did you know what in the correct you know where, he got a toy from the box.
Overtime Levi collected a pretty good portion of little animal toys. Every time he got a new one he would break it in by acting out some crazy story with it. There was Spirit the mustang and Simba the lion of course. Then there was the grand celebration for each creature: an entire chain of animals from one end of the house to the other as if there was a mass exodus originating from Levi’s bedroom.
One Saturday our family was doing our usual afternoon rituals. Mom was multi-tasking the garden and the laundry, dad and Eric had gone to run some errands in town, and Levi of course was playing with his animals. While I was in my room watching tv, I heard Levi call for mom a couple of times but I figured she had already taken care of it. When my favorite show had ended I still heard Levi yelling. Ughh I said, mom must be outside. I better go see what he wants. So I walked downstairs and called his name a few times, to which he responded. There was only one problem. Every room I went to I could hear him responding!
Doing my phenomenal eleven year old detective work, I discovered his voice was resonating from our abnormally large furnace ducts in our old farm house. I checked every room downstairs and finally, in the living room, I found two little legs sticking straight out of the floor. Levi had taken the cover off the vent to make the ultimate setting for his animal narratives. His new little dog figurine decided to take a dive into the great hole of soot so Levi’s natural response was to dive after his companion.
Just in time mom walked in the door. Scrambling to find words, my preteen response was something like, “Levi’s legs out of animal toy…hole in the floor…furnace..ahh!!” My mom followed my frantic pointing finger to the little legs sticking out of the floor, sending her in a dart to pull him out. For a solid ten minutes she held Levi’s legs trying to get him out of the black abyss. I asked if I should call 911.
In a few minutes the ambulance, fire department, and channel two news all appeared at our door step. In walked a deputy who ran in and grabbed Levi by the legs and in about five minutes, out of a dust of black soot we found Levi! His face was literally pitch-black with the exception of the white of his eyes and little tears lines streaming upward from them.
That evening we informed dad of our eventful day sat down for the five-o’clock news, starring the headline: “Little boy gets trapped in a furnace duct when his eleven year old sister calls 911”
So if you read the previous post, you are awesome! Gold Star!! If not, here’s a really really quick run through…I’m the daughter of a pastor in Ohio. I have two older brothers (that are both old enough to be my father) and our newest family addition, is my adorable little brother, Levi, who was born with Down’s syndrome.
I guess before this point you could say we made lemonade out of a lemon. Having a child with Down’s syndrome (or in my case, brother) isn’t exactly the easiest chore, but you have to take what you have and make it sweet. Now that my family had gotten over the initial shock of being introduced to the world of raising a child with special needs, God said ahh, I see you have made lemonade; Share it! And that we did, with a new addition to the family. You are probably saying, whoa seriously, your parents are 47, they’re gonna raise more kids? Don’t worry, it was all in God’s plan and adoption spared the poor old lady’s womb.
In 1997, my parents were getting all kinds of magazines, pamphlets, etc. on how to raise a child with special needs. One of those monthly pamphlets exhibited children with disabilities that were up for adoption. And on the right inside fold was the picture of the lemony little dynamo, Eric. He was a cute little blonde, glasses, a quirky smirk, a few freckles. Yep, God said, he’ll do. It was a brilliant idea! Levi was getting older, and what better for him than to have a lifelong companion! So the family jumped in the 1987 AstroVan and took a four hour drive to Northeast Ohio to get my new little brother! Ok well, there was the paperwork, the background checks, the interviews with stuck-up state people in their golf polos, the court dates…you get the picture.
So we shared the lemonade with our new little addition. You might even say we were experts at making at making it by now. But God brought a new lemon that put a giant squirt of humility in our corneas.
Our family soon learned an important proverb: don’t judge a book by its cover…or in our case, don’t judge a picture by its pamphlet. Eric was adorable, yes. But I was convinced the four year old had to be criminally insane, and that’s an understatement! No he didn’t make you pull your hair out, don’t worry. He did it for you! My mom told me a few years back that when he first came, she was literally afraid of him. Let me give you a clue. Eric came with a hospital crib. Like the one they use for babies that have the little lock up door. We literally had to lock him in the crib at night so he wouldn’t destroy our house. Levi and I used to run around our house pretending that he was the boogieman. (There are plenty more stories and I could probably write at least three different blogs on them.)
Speaking of blogs, in the last one, remember when I said the pastor stereotype is that he is the man known for giving 72 second chances? Well my dad fits that stereotype crystal clear. My dad saw past Eric’s terror to his broken heart. Coming from a home of drugs where he was left in a crib for days there was no question that the four year old brought more emotional baggage than he did toys. He probably had more history than the WWI, and he was four! Every time Eric went on a terrible tyrant, he would get punished, but my dad told Eric he loved him. Every night before he went to bed and every morning he woke up, my dad told him he loved him. Soon we all started to love him, and he started to love us too.
In 1994, God dumped an entire bottle of Mrs. Dash on our family. Ok our life was pretty spicy before, but really? A whole bottle?
Ok get out the shaker.
Shake 1. Picture the late 80’s. My parents had two teenage boys, a dog named Melon (she was a collie..get it?!) and a herd of 250 dairy cows in Northwest Wisconsin. Fairly normal right?
Shake 2,3,& 4. Basically overnight, my dad went from pasture Bob…to pastor Bob. The family sold the entire herd of cows, packed the house up in a rental truck and moved 700 miles to good old Ohio. Goodbye sun-up to sun-down milking, and hello preacher family stereotypes (you know, the pastor who gives 72 second chances, the pastor’s wife that makes great casseroles, and the pastor’s kids…well my brothers were saints compared to most.)
Shake 5 & 6. So the family seems pretty normal still. In 1991, God decided a couple more shakes on the hearty family was a brilliant idea… they got me! Ok it may be a little vain to give myself two shakes but you gotta admit, when your parents are at the prime of their mid-life crisis years and your older brothers are old enough to be your father, yeah that’s a little zesty.
And this is when the cover comes off of that perfectly concocted mix of decadent seasoning. On a cold winter day in February (Well I’m guessing it was cold, but I was only two years old so what do I know). My smiley little brother was brought into the world. He was perfect in God’s image, but a swat on the butt in the world’s eyes. Levi had a flat little nose, tiny ears, and a little thing the doctors call Down’s syndrome.
So this is the point when you’re saying, what?! God that was way too much! Nope, he says, I have a plan and unless it’s rich, it’s not gonna work. And on goes our zingy..and quirky, family adventure.