Not a fan of holding my applause.

Holding my applause gives me hives.

Well, not really hives. But it annoys me. I have sat through two collegiate awards ceremonies in recent days (shout out to my amazing kids!), and find the admonition to hold our applause annoying. More than mildly.

Oh, I get it. The print on one of the programs is in a 4pt font in order to fit the exhaustive list of honorees. One just printed a big catalog of recipients in lieu of a program. That is a lot of people and a lot of awards and a lot of clapping. I GET IT.

But here's the thing. I am not a college professor having to sit through this every spring. I am not a member of the student life team eager to ensure the event runs smoothly. 

I am a mother who gets ONE shot to see her child recognized for the significant accomplishments of his and her college careers and you insisted the program move along so rapidly that at BOTH institutions, you didn't allow my kiddo to even pause for a photograph in view of the audience -- read: in view of this mother photographer -- but rather you whisked them to either the side or the back of the stage to snap a group shot while we were finally given permission to clap.

And frankly, I feel like the whole rushed thing left me wanting for more.

The triplets were five years old the first time I realized the healing power of applause. Each had their own chosen activity: Benjamin chose music, Mason chose gymnastics, and Claire chose ballet.

Mason would be the first to perform for parents. His class had just a hand full of students and so I expected there to be ten to twelve people watching. But the exhibition drew the attention of other families at the gym and soon the entire bleachers were filled and cheering for these tiny challenged gymnasts giving it their all on the balance beam, the bar, and the mat. 

I will never forget the moment Coach Kathy put a medal around Mason's neck and the crowd went wild. I mean, I was cheering like mad, and knew Wade, Benjamin and Claire were too, but to hear all the applause, you would have thought we brought the entire town to cheer for Mason. I had no idea who these people were but their support, echoed in their clapping, washed over me like a balm, and shouted that we were not alone. I can close my eyes and remember the feeling that I was not the only one who would spend time cheering for this boy.

Oh that wasn't the only time a crowd cheered for Mason. Claire, Benjamin, and Cate have had their fair share of cheering crowds too. And every single time -- from the stage to the piano hall to the softball field -- every single time, I hear support, love, celebration in those clapping hands. (And every time I put my hands together I am sending all of that...every time!)

Mason gathering awards.

Benjamin receiving accolades for his original play reading.

Claire at her awards day.

And isn't that the absolute best? Don't we need to feel celebrated? Supported?

Cate hit it to the fence last week and I found myself standing and cheering
 very loudly before I even knew what I was doing!

So if you serve in a place of influence over awards days of any kind, may I implore you to remember that you might have to attend dozens of these in your career, but for the student (and the mama) getting the award, this could be their only time to hear the crowd roar for them. Don't turn it into a generic hand patting at the end of a designated category for pete's sake. 

The next couple of weeks are FULL of college graduations for my trio. What a gift to be on the front row of the cheering section for these three -- be warned though, I don't intend to hold my applause.

Knit one, purl what?

If you hang out on any of my other social media -- you have seen one or a hundred photos of my yarn obsession. I have been crocheting for a few years but last month, I began to take knitting classes. And while my children have warned me that this statement might age me ten years are so, I am not afraid to say, I am obsessed with knitting. Obsessed.

Bless Beverly at The Southern Needle. Bless her. She showed me the basics and told me to practice by making a washcloth. And I said, ok, but then what?

I currently have three projects going:

A beautiful scarf where I am learning this amazing feather and fan pattern! I stop every few minutes to show it to my family needing their oohs and ahhs. (You might imagine how thrilled they are!)

I am actually much farther along now...but I was so amazed at this stage, I had to capture it on my camera!

A knit-a-long Christmas throw where I am learning new patterns with each block and just having a delightful time seeing the patterns that appear as I knit! Honestly, it is so much fun!

And because, my dear teacher couldn't refuse me when I begged her to show me how to knit a hat at my last class...this:

Look at how the yarn is making stripes appear in the stitching? Isn't it delightful?

Except,  you see, it is large enough for a not-so-small animal to wear. It is huge. Cate tried it on and it went OVER her head and down to her neck.

And so, right after I took that photo. I pulled my yarn and undid the entire thing. All of it. And tonight, I began again.

And as I sat waiting on my Little Red to finish theatre rehearsal, I started over a total of three times before I FINALLY feel like I am on the right track. And as I sat there knitting, I wondered why I wasn't completely frustrated. I wondered why I didn't want to chunk this yarn and move back to my scarf. Honestly, I wondered why something that should by rights be making me crazy with frustration, was actually doing just the opposite. I was enjoying every single moment.

And it hit me.

We are at once in the middle and on the cusp of more changes than my mind can even grasp. Wade is already in Delaware, we close on our new home there later this week. We are in the throes of applying to schools for Little Red. And the triplets -- deep breath in, and out --  are preparing for college graduation! Our family time is rapid bites. We cram in as much quality as we can in far too little quantity. And some times, those quick visits are marred by some misunderstanding, or a misspoken word, or frustrated teen. And some times those visits are marred by a mama who desperately wants to rip the stitches back to a time when all my ducks were under the same roof, and ahem, I was in some semblance of control.

Beautiful then, that today I am reminded of my favorite Psalm:

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful.....all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." Psalm 139:14, 16a

God's got this. He is a master knitter (You saw that, right?), never having to rip stitches back to begin again. Isn't that a relief?

I can't promise I'll get there right away. I might still want to rip the stitches back a bit -- if not to when my four were little bitty, then at least to the beginning of EVERY weekend, where I let my emotions flaw the time. But there is such assurance in knowing that I am not capable of marring God's perfect plan. He has already knit that story together. He has already knit ME together!

So if you need me, I'll be here knitting. And with each stitch, I will be praying for all the decisions facing my crew in the days ahead. And I'll be calmed by the repetition, and buoyed by the challenge, and reminded with every single stitch that God's got this.

Isn't that so amazing?

One. Two. Three. Or something like that.

I wish you could have been a fly on the wall last night in our condo. Really.

Because we are here temporarily, we don't have personal care attendants to help with Benjamin's daily needs. So this summer, it is all Mom, all the time! So Claire offered to help transfer last night. She learned some great two-person-lift-techniques at camp last summer and thought they would help. The space here is tight though and so we were adjusting how to lift Benjamin from his wheelchair to the bed with very little space for the three of us. We made the plan and then I thought she said "On three, 1-2-3." And so I lifted. She belatedly lifted his legs which threw me off balance causing me to fall onto the bed with him and then onto the floor (just me -- B was safely in the bed) laughing so hard I was crying. We were ALL laughing so hard we were crying.  

Now, I should point out that Claire actually said, "Mom, count to three." I had misheard her. And that just made us laugh harder.

It was several minutes before I could get up. It was just so comical. (And was made even more so by the fact that mascara was literally running down my face because I had actual tears streaming from laughing so hard.)

Getting help was almost my undoing.

I like to do it all myself. I like to. It's not that I want to be a martyr or anything. I have just spent 21 years taking care of my boy (now a man. I know.) and I have a system, a routine if you will.

And though I know that he is taller than me. And I recognize that his strong personal care attendants lift him much easier than I do and so probably cause him far less discomfort, I still like doing the things that must be done. I still think that I can and should.

And so I recognize that as funny as last night was -- it probably emphasizes a problem I have with asking for and accepting help. And if I am honest, the problem is probably more with accepting that I NEED help than anything else. I was blessed with these three and it was a privilege to provide their mothering. And while they are young adults these days, it still fills my heart when they NEED me.

So taking care of the one who still requires my help physically, is probably helping me cope with mothering adults! I like being needed.

We are going to try again tonight. I will work on hearing the count this time. I will work on accepting the help. And I will work on acknowledging that I am mothering adults.

But ya'll might want to work on sneaking a video camera in to capture the fun. Truly.

The Good. The Bad. And the Ugly.

Sorting through the thousand or so photos I took over the last two weeks, I am struck by the absolute beauty of this trip. I am overwhelmed with gratitude that we had this experience. And after a semester having my family separated by thousands of miles, I confess that I took as many photos of my crew as I did the scenery and I do not apologize for that even a little bit. (Especially since we left Mason studying off the coast of Spain so already we are separate...again.)

But I am also keenly aware that my photographs are of the good moments. I don't stop and photograph the hard times -- though I try to be honest about them -- and so am always struck when people comment about how happy we are "always".....seriously, that is not our reality and I don't want you to think it is.

So, if you are interested in a traveler's tale, please grab some coffee. I have about a million photos I want to share and might get a bit long-winded!

Let's start with the good:

1. Gelato. Holy smokes, the gelato was so divine. And this little gelato spot in particular made us smile for a myriad of reasons -- not the least of which, they recognized us upon our return and welcomed us back!

2. Entrance Fees.  We usually only paid for one or at the most one adult and one child. Italy's policy is that those with disabilities enter free, as does one companion. 

View from the Coliseum!

3. The history.  From the Arch of Constantine and the reminder that it was Constantine who returned to Rome demanding everyone become "Christian." To the Coliseum, where for 390 years, battles were reenacted, executions were held, prisoners were fighting wild animals for their freedom, and all in the name of entertainment. In those years more than 400,000 people died.

We saw the forums of Rome's mighty leaders. We toured the Vatican and saw the Sistine Chapel (I posted photos from those sights here and also here). And toured St. Paul's Basilica, built where Paul is buried. Seeing the actual chains from when Paul was imprisoned was emotional. 

And convicting. Paul wrote from his prison cell:

"I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances." Philippians 4:11

Oh, I need to have that level of contentment.

Outside of St. Paul's.

Inside St. Paul's Benjamin had plenty of room to navigate.

The eternal flame burning at the altar where Paul's prison chains are housed.

For perspective -- the columns were huge at the Basilica.

4. The pizza. Need I say more?

5. Tour guides. We made a wise decision prior to our travels and hired an accessible van for two days in Rome, the drive to our ship, and to also meet us at the port of Livorno to take us to Pisa and around Florence. On these days, Benjamin had to navigate the roads much less and Mason had to walk the cobblestones much less. They still had to....but the reprieve between major sites was a nice change.

We used www.romeconnection.com for these drivers and tour guides. They did an outstanding job helping us navigate the ancient cities!

With Marco, our tour guide for two days in Rome. Marco got us into and around the Vatican as if it were easy -- it is not. We were so thankful for his expertise!

With Heliana, our fantastic tour guide in Florence! The history this woman knew was incredible and so fascinating! 

With Florin -- our absolutely delightful driver! He and this van were an absolute game-changer!!!

6. The views. Once upon a time, I read a little book -- "The Red Sails of Capri" -- aloud to Cate that promptly drew her teenage-siblings' attention and enthralled us all. We have dreamt for years of visiting Capri. It did not disappoint.

And of course, my archaeologist son, Mason, was thrilled to visit Pompeii. He worked harder than he has ever had to in order to navigate these enormous cobble stones of the ruins but did not stop smiling the entire time!

Under an arch in Pompeii with Mt. Vesuvius behind them! Look at the size of those cobblestones!

The tour guide was enthralled with Mason's enthusiasm and knowledge. Of course.

She hardly had to break a sweat to hold it up! :)

She didn't either! (And no, the boys would have no part in the silly photos!)

Overlooking Florence in all her splendor!

And from the bridge in Florence.

A calanque (creek)  in Cassis.

In the village of Cassis, France.

7. Family Time. Oh man how I loved needing a table for SIX for every dinner!!

The Bad.

1. When we clicked wheelchair-access on the Disney Cruise site, all excursion options disappeared. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. We considered not taking the cruise at all. Not taking the trip at all. But the bottom line was that I desperately wanted my crew to experience Italy. And I also knew that Disney would ensure our rooms at night and our meals were accessible. Beyond that we were on our own.

So, Benjamin was able to tour Rome. Because we flew there and arranged our own tours.

Shrader SIX in the Coliseum!

He was able to see the tower in Pisa, and sight see in Florence. Again, because WE arranged the van and tour guides who would give us an accessible option.

My fab four in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa!

All six Shraders able to see the Duomo in Florence!

But he wasn't able to get off the ship in Capri. Or Marseilles. Or Cannes. So he and Dad stayed on the ship. He enjoyed every minute. He loves that boat. He WON six out of six Disney Trivia contests, was known by many families around the ship due to his wins, and thoroughly enjoyed himself. But still. He missed Capri.

Only four Shraders could see the majesty of Capri.

 And Cassis.

And he missed the short walk we took through the streets of Cannes. And the crepes at the little sidewalks. And we missed sharing all of this with him and with Wade.

2. Cobblestones everywhere.

Giant cobblestones in Pompeii were a physical challenge but my archaeologist son still smiled every minute!

3. Exhaustion. We walked five to ten miles every sight-seeing day. The weather was lovely and yet, the sun got hot as we tried to rapidly see as many sights as possible. This trip was not for the faint of heart. Not even a little.

Girls napping while we wait for lunch (Pizza, what else?!) in Sorrento!

The Ugly.

1. Rome arrival. Detailed here. I can't even go into that again. Sigh.

2. My attitude. Oh man. In the first days of our time in Italy, I desperately wanted everyone to love it as much and as intensely as I had dreamt about them loving it.  And the hard-to-navigate roads, coupled with inconsistent curb-cut-outs of Rome were leaving Benjamin frustrated and a bit frantic so we needed to help him drive. This led to some short tempers. Ok, this led to my short temper. One day, I will learn to get my expectations out of the way.

Luckily, we remembered to flex before we were too many days in and the trip because much much more enjoyable after that.

3. Taxi in Barcelona. We disembarked Saturday morning in Barcelona. We had to get Mason to his Field School and so had opted to just fly home also. We booked our transfer from the ship to the airport through DISNEY. As guests poured off the ship, they loaded charter buses for their transfers. Not one was accessible. We were told to wait. We waited. They called for us and led us to a small van with a steep ramp. I mean steep ramp. The "van" was not tall enough for Benjamin to get into and you know, keep his head on. :)  We measured and angled and finally reclined him, drove him up the crazy ramp and then raised him back up as much as possible. The vehicle didn't hold us all and our luggage. So Wade and the luggage went on one of the buses. The kids and I in the taxi. (I will commend the taxi and bus drivers and say that they worked very hard to stay together. At one point, the bus driver pulled to the side of the road to wait for us. He obviously read our discomfort with being separated in an unknown city/country.)

3. Arriving back in Philadelphia. Same song, hundred and fifteenth verse. Plane lands. Passengers get off. Wheelchair does not arrive. We wait. Aisle chair arrives. I have to explain Benjamin can not get into that until his chair arrives. Entire flight crew gather round us. THANKFULLY, they all understood and just sat down and visited with us. But we waited 45 minutes for his wheelchair to be unloaded and brought to the jet way. Seriously, can I say AGAIN, that the time lost in us forcing airlines to have a lengthy flight turn-over could be avoided if they engineered a way for his wheelchair to lock down instead of having him transfer out of his chair!! (Before you criticize me, please know the drawings have been done and are actively being considered. I didn't just come up with this idea! Check out this video!)

Traveling with a disability is a struggle. We have left Mason in Spain where he is doing a field school at an ancient burial site. He is walking up five flights of stairs for housing, hiking through brush for half an hour, and working in the sun on his knees and belly all day. Clearly, we don't avoid the hard stuff. But really, there is no reason Disney can not provide excursions from this wonderful cruise itinerary that make it easier for families like ours to travel. I want to encourage families to not be afraid to explore the world -- but until companies like American Airlines, Disney, and other travel companies decide our patronage is valuable, and make an effort to ease the travel burden by providing more accessible options, I can only say that seeing the world is worthwhile, and seeing the world is hard.

I have some jet-lag to overcome but if you want to come by and see the other thousands of photos I wasn't able to include here, just give me a shout! :)

From the overlook in Florence!

www.romeconnection.com