Halloween

"How long until we go trick-or-treating?" Emma wants to know. "Seven more hours," says Mommy. And Ryan steps onto the front porch, shuts the front door, and rings the doorbell. "Trick or Treat," he says and holds out his cloth pumpkin bag.

I couldn't stay to see them all dressed up for the big night, but I did get a preview at school the previous day as they marched around the school grounds in their costumes. Some of the kids were hopping around, sharing giggles and staying in character; one small firefighter was squirting imaginary water at everyone. Emma was in the more serious category, and looked warily at the crowd as the walked by in the procession.

During Em's parade, Ry and I were sitting on a picnic table about thirty feet away, and he was not interested in getting any closer to the crowd. I wondered what he was thinking, as I often do.

Sometimes I get a surprise glimpse of his thoughts, but it's more like poetry than fact, usually more about feelings than about thoughts. That's where we connect -- in the land of feelings and spontaneous play.

He was dressed up as a rooster this year, and sure was cute in it, but he didn't appear to be wondering what anyone else thought. I hope he had fun.

Mother-in-Law

When my son was first born it was a struggle to hold onto my sense of self while my mother and my husband's mother passed lots of information to me. I didn't feel grateful for the sharing; their advice stirred my secret suspicions that I was not a good mother, and I felt resentful.

Clearly, my daughter-in-law is her own person, and I can't assume that she is plagued with the same insecurities that I felt. But I sense a subtle, cautious distance between us that prods me to look back to my own history for help in understanding how to be an asset rather than a liability.

I made plenty of mistakes as a mother, so looking back isn't very comfortable. I stumbled along and learned through trial and error. The main thing I learned is this: I don't know much that's worth passing along. My so-called knowledge applies to conditions that no longer exist.

I have no answers for my son and daughter-in-law and they don't need my answers. In my opinion, they are fabulous parents. Down Syndrome puts plenty of extra work on their plates, and they go above and beyond what needs to be done, which makes it easy for me to enjoy being a grandmother.

Despite my shaky parenting, my son grew wise and he chose a mate that is pretty close to perfect. (If I had arranged a marriage for him, she's the one I would have chosen.)

I'd like to change one thing about her: I wish she could read my mind so she'd know how much I appreciate her. My goals are to be a loving grandmother, a respectful and appreciative mother, and a supportive and non-interfering mother-in-law. And to love them all without holding back.