Sister Assist

The kids are taking a play-writing class. They worked on character development the first week, and this week they are to bring a scene, already written, back to class.

One scene.

Riley’s written two very lengthy ones, and could go on. Seth struggles with one.

He sits at the table, forlorn. He has it in his head, can’t get it on the paper.

Finally, I let him dictate to me and then when we’re finished, I ask him to copy it in his own handwriting. It’s important the boy be able to write if he’s capable of it, and he is.

He starts, then gets teary. It is so much to copy. He’s paralyzed. I am losing patience.

Riley says, “Mom, it’s just that he’s overwhelmed.”

“I know Riley, but he’s not doing anything.” Exasperated, I look at her and say, “Why don’t you help him.”

She goes over to the paper, takes a second sheet and covers up all but the line he is currently writing. Relief washes over him, and he begins to write.

One line at a time.

Posted in homeschooling, special needs siblings, Uncategorized | 8 Comments

An Important Lesson

Today I was tired, so I took a nap.

I let the kids play their Nintendo DSi games, and I slept, for over an hour.

I was upstairs, with the door open, with a calico cat snuggled into the back of my legs. I could have heard them if there were any trouble.

There was no trouble.

They were happy, since DSI’s are usually not allowed during the school week.

I am rested.

I was tired, so I took a nap.

Don’t say I didn’t teach them anything today.

Posted in appreciation, homeschooling | 9 Comments

How does it make you feel to know you’ve been manipulated into buying crap?

This is on our homeschool agenda today. The Story of Stuff.

Love.

Posted in appreciation, homeschooling, Uncategorized | 6 Comments

A Free Webinar with Author Jennifer Lauck

We’d been writing all day under a big tent in a meadow. As we walked the dusty dirt road back to the outdoor kitchen at the Buddhist retreat center in the Colorado mountains, Jennifer Lauck, (award winning, best selling author Jennifer Lauck) looked at me and said, “You’re the real deal. You’ve probably been writing for many, many lifetimes.”

It was my first writing workshop. It was the kind of moment you tuck into your heart and keep. The kind of thing you take out from time to time to look at, when you’re feeling doubt.

Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar would not have been written without Jennifer Lauck. I was changed forever by her memoir Blackbird. Therapists have used Blackbird as a tool to access the child voice of trauma in their clients. As soon as I finished it I had to read every other word Jennifer had written, and her subsequent memoirs were just as good. If this brilliant author thought I could write, maybe I could believe it too.

Jennifer’s latest memoir is Found, a story about finding her birth mother forty plus years after being given up for adoption. Beautifully written and poignant, it does not disappoint.

Jennifer graciously asked me to guest post on her blog and to take part in one of her Free Webinars this week, to discuss my decision to publish Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar independently.

I hope you’ll join us Thursday on the call, 11am PST, 2pmEST.

Posted in appreciation, Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar, memoir, Uncategorized, writing | 4 Comments

Put them on an index card, carry it around

I heard an interview earlier in the week on XM radio (I think it was on Dr. Oz’s show) with Marci Shimoff, author of the books Love for No Reason, and Happy for No Reason. She suggested an exercise which I thought was fantastic. Each person you see, silently wish them these four things:

May you be safe.

May you be happy.

May you be healthy.

May you live with ease. 

The driver in front of you in traffic. The person bagging your groceries. Your child’s teacher. Your spouse. 

May you be safe.

May you be happy.

May you be healthy.

May you live with ease. 

Your neighbor. Your friend. The people who read your blog. Your children.

May you be safe.

May you be happy.

May you be healthy.

May you live with ease. 

The bankers, the protestors, the contestants on Dancing With the Stars, your cat.

May you be safe.

May you be happy.

May you be healthy.

May you live with ease. 

Just thinking these statements softly to myself, I feel the good ju-ju pumping through my body.

I’m going to put them on an index card and carry it around.

Posted in appreciation, Love., spirituality, Uncategorized | 8 Comments

Life Long Learner

When I was fifteen, my mother had twin boys. I adored them. When they hit school age, one of my brothers had a learning disability. School was not easy for him. One day when he was really little, my mother was going over his work and pulled out a worksheet which was checked with lots of red marks from his teacher. My heart hurt for him. I was ready to give him a pep talk, when he looked up at our mom and beamed,

“Mom! Look how many I got right!”

I am taking an on-line class right now, and in all my crazy business of getting my book out, I missed an email telling me the details and all the assignments, so I am a couple of weeks behind. Nothing I can’t catch up with but I’m not feeling like my usual straight A self.  I’d been getting some emails from the instructor, but nothing too meaty, and I was waiting, waiting, for the class to really kick in. Little did I know it had kicked in, without me!

Today, while I learn from my mishaps, let me focus on what I’m doing right. My intention with the class is to really learn. It is not to go gangbusters for the A.

I’ll be spending the day, joyfully catching up. Appreciative there is always so much to learn.

Posted in appreciation | 6 Comments

Co-op, Speed Stacking, and the Clay Class Formerly Known as Effing

Today was the first day of homeschool co-op. Riley and Seth are taking a play writing class in the first block. In the second, Riley is taking puzzles and games, which is a lot of charades type games, mind teasers, thinking on her feet. Does she need her mom in that class? No she doesn’t.

Seth is jazzed about cup stacking for his second block:

 

You want to see kids thoroughly engaged? Get them cup stacking. And, it’s good for you!

…stacking improves hand-eye coordination and reaction time by up to 30 percent.
Sport stacking helps students develop bilateral proficiency equal performance on both sides of the body. By increasing bilateral proficiency, a student develops a greater percentage of the right side of the brain, which houses awareness, focus, creativity and rhythm. Stacking helps train the brain for sports and other activities where the use of both hands is important, such as playing a musical instrument or using the computer. Sequencing and patterning are also elements of sport stacking, which can help with reading and math skills.  
– From the speedstacks.com website

The kids are also taking another session of clay class, (formerly known unaffectionately as effing clay class) and Riley has requested her mother NOT be there. So I am down the hall, for two blessed hours, (within earshot of screaming but not small blips, and in the path of the door should she bolt). Let me repeat. I am down a long hall, hands off, for clay class this year. Yesterday I was able to write for the full two hours. She had a couple of very small moments, but none that required my intervention.

Tutors come three days a week for a total of seven hours, (math, science, Spanish) thanks to the Ohio Autism Scholarship. We’re doing a ton of reading. Our schedule is very loose, but we have a lot going on. Last week was a field trip to the Art Museum.

It’s Friday afternoon and they are presently plunked in front of the TV, vegging with some popcorn. Soon they’ll be outside riding their scooters on this unseasonably warm and gorgeous day.

Riley thinks she wants to return to school for high school. Her motivation? She wants a boyfriend. This, she confided to her tutor. Did you hear the thud of Todd fainting over that one? Seth would like to be home forever, despite the fact there is a charter school here that uses Lego as part of their curriculum. He’s still intermittently wracked with lots of neurological tics and some other issues associated with PANDAS so I am glad for him to be home at this point in his life. I’ve learned not to look too far ahead.

For now, we are in a good place. Lots of freedom. Lots of activity. Lots of learning going on for all of us.

Have a great weekend!

Lovingly yours,

MO’N

Posted in appreciation, homeschooling, Uncategorized | 7 Comments

What Special Needs Can Look Like at a Wedding

My friend Kim’s girls were excluded from a family wedding and it’s caused a whole heap of pain for all involved. What were the bride and groom afraid of? Most special needs parents are not going to let their children disrupt a special occasion. We will get our kids out of there pronto if things aren’t going well. We live on hyper alert. We’re not here to ruin special occasions, but we would like to be part of them.

I grew up with a boy in my extended family who has Down Syndrome. He is one year older than me. He was ring bearer in our wedding. What he brought to our special day was joy multiplied. Was there a chance Jack would do something unexpected? Yes. And I had point people assigned to him just in case.

The people there loved him. He was in his glory. He had the best day. Jack did his ring bearing duties beautifully. He let out a huge WOO-HOO! when the priest said, “You may kiss the bride.” He made the reception even more fun with all his dancing, at one point landing himself in the middle of a huge circle of cheering fans screaming, “Go Jack! Go Jack!”

We gave him a copy of the reception video, and he took it back to his group home and played it incessantly for months. 

Just thinking about it again, I have goose bumps. It makes me happy, to think of him so happy.

How sad that some choose fear over love. Weddings are stressful. People get caught up in wanting to control every detail. But what’s more important, having the perfect wedding? Or valuing the perfection in everyone you love.

 

Posted in appreciation, special needs, Uncategorized | 11 Comments

Ringing in 43

Tucking her in the night before my birthday, she could barely contain her excitement. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and was as happy for me as she would be if it were her own birthday eve.

I have a wonderful daughter.

We had a typical day. School work in the morning. Hurray for our great tutor! Reading aloud in the afternoon. Charlotte just started wowing the townspeople by weaving SOME PIG! into her web. Later, Riley went to music therapy and Seth and I sat outside in the gorgeous sunshine reading The Hobbit. Seth listens so intently, and remembers details I couldn’t begin to retain. I love reading with him.

Pizza for dinner, then, they sang to me and gave me cake that tasted like the most delicious giant Ring Ding.

We plowed into it, and then Seth noticed how funny the cake looked half gone. That chunk missing in the front is where I dropped the camera on it while trying to take the picture.

I’d never licked my camera, until now.

After cake, we went to buy some trees. I’ve been wanting to plant a couple of them in the back yard. Looking through the selection, studying the likes and dislikes of different varieties (some like shade, some like sun, some are sissies for cold weather), Riley says to me, “So this is your idea of birthday shopping?” We laughed! 

I didn’t only get trees though. My beloved HT got me an iPod. Because I was the last person on earth carrying around a CD Walkman. My friend Betsy teased I might as well be carrying around a boom box on my shoulder.

We rode home laughing with trees sticking out the car windows, kids holding onto the thin trunks.

Many gorgeous people from so many points on the planet wished me happy birthday on-line, by phone, and through snail mail cards. THANK YOU!

We put the kids to bed and TIVO blasted through DWTS, and did our obligatory screening of Glee.

43 years old, I went to bed with a heart full of love, and a belly full of Ring Ding.

I don’t generally like odd numbers, but it seems like it’s going to be a very good year.

*Freshly showered and not a stitch of make-up in the photo. Posting anyway, ’cause happy is beautiful.

Posted in appreciation, beauty, family, Uncategorized | 12 Comments

Still Twenty Days Older

From second grade through junior high, I had a dear friend. We were pretty much inseparable. I was twenty days older than her and I loved to rub that fact in her face. For twenty whole days, I was ten while she was still nine. I was 11 while she was still 10. And so on. That’s how I rolled.

She moved away and we lost touch and I have always missed her.

Last week, I found her. (Praise Google from whom all blessings flow).

Today is my birthday. I can’t think of a better gift than knowing where she is and how she is doing. Call me happy.

Posted in appreciation, Uncategorized | 8 Comments

Inside This Memoir Writer’s Neurotic Head

My ego is on a freaking rampage and having a ball! Self-judgement abounds. Sometimes I don’t know if my skin is really thick enough to be a writer. No, I have not received a bad review (yet). No, I have not gotten critical feedback. People are saying nice things.

I just have this fear somewhere in the back of my mind that something is fundamentally wrong with me for being compelled to write about such personal things. Why do I do this? And why don’t many other people do it? Am I wrong for doing it? Do I have some sort of mental instability? Some sick need for attention? Am I bad? Shameful? Lacking healthy boundaries? A narcissist? Cruel?

My ego does a fist pump and cheers!

Why do I have to go back and explore things? Why can’t I let things stay buried? And why do I have to make it public? What if other people in my story are perfectly fine not to ever think about these matters again? Why do I, in my grandmother’s words, have to “open a can of worms?” Bad, bad, girl, talking about things that would be better left alone. I was the one in my family looking around saying, “Yo! This is messed up! Why can’t you see it?” Why does this seem to be my role in life? What’s wrong with me?

Sly, sly ego. If it can’t get me on that one, it searches for a different angle. Self-pub. What a joke. Thoroughly researched, and a viable way to get books out these days, especially with a traditional publishing industry that is limping along, but I can easily fall into that hole.

Or this….POD (print on demand) means I can make changes. My friend with an eagle eye found some things, like, I’m constantly capitalizing the word “Dad” in the book, when not referring to a dad by name. Interesting mistake, because I am not constantly capitalizing “mom.” She found some other small things, that if I change will make the book look more professional, and tighter, and nothing big, and easy to fix, but boy my ego is having a field day ripping me apart! How embarrassing for it not to be 100% perfect! How awful for the people who have purchased it already to have a book with mistakes! Shameful. I want to crawl into a hole.

Looking at the suggested changes last night I was practically pulling out my hair, not crying, but teary and very overwhelmed. The kids came in the room, took one look at me and Riley said, “Does somebody need a hug?”

Somebody did.

I told the kids what was happening, and Riley reminded me we found typos in Little Women when we read it, and Seth insisted we also found one in Harry Potter. He even remembered the word.

Every single day as I was writing Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar, I did a meditation before writing, offering up the day’s efforts to serve the highest good for all involved. That was my intention. Being perfect was not my intention. Hurting people was never my intention.

I don’t fully understand why truth-telling is in my DNA, but today when I’m feeling small and scared, I’m going remember that “highest good” intention, and trust it. I don’t have to understand everything that is in motion right now.

Posted in Daughter of the Drunk at the Bar, memoir, Uncategorized, writing | 14 Comments

Charlotte’s Web

I facilitate a book group for 9-11 year olds and this month we are reading Charlotte’s Web. It was my first “big girl” book when I was a child. So charmed by it, I do believe it set me on the path to becoming a lifelong reader. And it’s hard to be a writer if you’re not a reader. It’s an important book for me on so many levels.

I’m reading it aloud to my kids and falling deeply in love with it all over again. I have not read it since I was about 11. I love how the book is not fearful of tackling difficult issues, specifically death. Wilbur the pig finds out the plan for him to be slaughtered, and Charlotte the barn spider tells him to stop wigging out. She “can’t stand hysterics.”

Charlotte isn’t all warm and fuzzy. She reminds me of some of the best people I know and have known. They aren’t prone to sentiment, there is a dryness to their humor, but they love me and have my back. They wouldn’t presume to know what my life is like, but they do unflinchingly know my heart. They show up.

The three of us cuddle up on the big chair to read. I love that my children are hearing Charlotte’s  words out of their mother’s mouth. I want her wisdom to seep into their bones. Everything we love, we will eventually lose. I want them to know that loving is worth it. I hope this book about a spider and a pig can in some way prepare them. So when they experience losses, and they will, they’ll know it’s a part of life. It is okay. All will be well.

I was inspired to pick Charlotte’s Web for this month’s read by this beautiful interview on NPR.

Thank you E.B. White. Your brilliance lives on in your stories.

 

Posted in appreciation, Parenting, Uncategorized | 11 Comments

All you unmarried gals, see what you’re missing?

Drying off from my shower, HT is stretched out on the bed. We’re chatting, all light hearted when I catch a glimpse of toes. His toenails specifically.

“Your toenails are atrocious, and they’re a hazard,” I scowl.

“A hazard to whom?” he feigns innocence.

“To me.”

“They’re not a hazard.”

“You’re not the one having to go to the ER for stitches.”

“You haven’t needed stitches.” He chuckles, then adds, “Yet.”

Swear to God, he’s sleeping in socks tonight.

Posted in marriage | Tagged | 7 Comments

And to think I almost didn’t stop at the BMV

I had some running around to do, and driving down the road, out of the corner of my eye, I saw The Bureau of Motor Vehicles as I passed it. My birthday is coming up and my license expires on it. In Ohio they don’t send out any warning. Todd learned this the hard way in May, so I wasn’t taking any chances. I hadn’t planned on it, but figured I might as well get it done, while I was out and about.

I swung into the next lot, and made my way over to the BMV. (In NY state, where I come from, it’s called the DMV, department vs. bureau). Anyway….I went in, and it took less than five minutes. A miracle, I know.

But wait! There’s more!

I’m generally not a photogenic person, but my driver’s license picture looks good. It’s probably the best picture ever taken of me. Including the photos on my wedding day. It’s like they photoshopped it. On my new license, I’m a freaking supermodel. I came home and shoved it in Todd’s face, “You have a hot wife,” is what I said.

He looked at it all, yowza! with his eyes.

Then I remembered this one other time in college when my photo I.D. came out good. Everywhere I went from the book store, to the cafeteria, to the dive bars where bouncers checked with flashlights, people would look at the ID, do a double take, and say, “This barely even looks like you!”

It hurt.

Luckily, I don’t get carded much any more.

Posted in appreciation, Uncategorized | 11 Comments

Treat Him Like a Rottweiler

We were having a problem with Jingle. She’d started to become aggressive with other dogs when we were out on walks. She used to love every dog in the neighborhood. Now she’s snarling at them, showing her teeth, the second they start to sniff. We deduced it had something to do with Yippee the Chihuahua. Was she protecting him? He’s full of bravado but he’s less than ten pounds. Does she think he’s in danger?

We started walking them separately, but Jingle continued snapping at other dogs she used to be thrilled to see.

I took her out in the back yard one morning to do her business, and as I watched her sniff around, I thought, “I wish I could get inside her head. I wish I knew what was upsetting her. I wish I could talk to some kind of dog whisperer.”

While were were out, while I was having this wishful thinking about Jingle, someone was commenting on my blog. Someone who had interviewed us back in July for a news station in Denver. Someone who is a pet intuitive, though I didn’t know she was a pet communicator ’til I came inside and clicked on her link!

I made an appointment for the following week.

Before I could keep it, the very next day, a neighbor was over and her sister happened to be in town, and the sister used to be a dog trainer. She gave me a lot of insight into what was going on.

She believed the problem behind Jingle was Yippee. And the problem behind Yippee, was me.

While out on walks, Yippee barks and lunges and it’s really quite ridiculous, since he’s afraid of his own shadow. I don’t take it seriously and don’t correct him, because I can control his leash with one finger, and just yank him back. The thing is, Jingle does take him seriously, and if he’s misbehaving, and he isn’t being corrected, then in her mind, he’s the boss. He’s the alpha. And even if she really wants to listen to me, she can’t, because in a pack, you listen to the Alpha. So Yippee has all this fear, and barks and lunges at the other dogs, and Jingle follows suit. And now she’s actually taken on the fear and the behavior. Our neighbor’s sister said we need to treat Yippee the same as we would if he were a Rottweiler.

Who, me?

Next, it was time to talk to Marianne, the pet intuitive. If you don’t believe in things like intuition or psychic abilities feel free to run along. I’ve personally had experiences which lead me to believe there is a lot more going on in the Universe than what we understand with our five senses, so I am open to it.

This is how it works. You send her pics of the pets and she communicates with them and asks them questions and also tells them things we want them to know. Whether it would turn out to be legit or not, it was not too expensive, so we thought it would be worth it to try.

Jingle:
She said Jingle is exasperated with Yippee, appalled by his bad manners and needs regular breaks from him. I can’t imagine why?


She said Jingle is overwhelmed and confused with the Yippee situation and also with her role as a service dog as Riley becomes more and more independent. We have not been taking her out in public as much because Riley has not needed her as much and she doesn’t understand why she’s being left behind.

Yippee: She said Yippee truly believes in his heart, he and Seth are brothers.

Like a cocky (yet inwardly insecure) frat boy, he is happily running the show, and could benefit from some time in training, learning manners, tricks, agility, etc. to challenge him and allow him to use his brilliant mind for good and not evil.

Sam: 

Sam is our gray cat, and as you can see he has an eating disorder. He eats anything and everything. He ate my curtains. He eats the rubber pad underneath the treadmill. He eats paper bags. He eats plants. He eats cardboard boxes. He eats shoe laces. He chews stuffed animals. We got him and our calico at a shelter as kittens and believe he was probably weaned too soon.

Sam also wants to go out. He tries to slip out the front door all the time. We made the decision to have Sam and his sister Tanya strictly “indoor” a fear based decision, after our beloved cat Crystal was mangled in our back yard. Then we had them de-clawed because they were destroying all the woodwork in the house. In hindsight, I would risk it and let them be outside, and not de-claw. So now, the dilemma, let Sam out? Without his front claws? It would help his restlessness (and his girth). Some of our neighbors’ cats are outdoor and de-clawed. They tell me cats use their back claws for fighting and the front ones don’t matter so much.

So I asked the intuitive this: Is it worth it to Sam, to take the risk and have the freedom? She answered for him, “Yes.”  (I had only sent a face shot to her, so she hadn’t even seen his impressive derriere).

Tanya:

Tanya is our chronically pissed off cat. She’s the one who chased the stray kitten under Seth’s box spring and would not let it out. She terrorized the poor thing. She struts around the house, flicking her tail like she’s just so irritated. She is LOUD. Demanding. Strikingly beautiful. Marianne said Tanya feels like the leftover pet. The one we pay attention to last. She had Riley all to herself before Jingle and now she’s an afterthought. She said she doesn’t like having to sleep downstairs in the basement at night (we make her because she wakes up at the crack of dawn meowing and we were losing too many hours of sleep). Since talking with Marianne, we’ve been trying to give her more attention and it seems to be helping. We typically had to chase her around the house to get her in the basement and the past few nights she’s been walking downstairs voluntarily.

So that’s it in a nutshell. Lots to think about.

Overwhelmed? Me too. When you clump it all together like that, it’s a lot. But in the course of a day, two happy dogs keep two happy kids company. Two cats lounge lazily in sunbeams. It isn’t as bad as it seems. Yippee is taking direction, being forced to sit and mind, rather than bark at passersby. Jingle is getting breaks, and eating separatly from the “Rottweiler.” We still have a lot of work to do, and we’ll never get it all done. Everyone’s needs won’t always be met. Human needs will always come first, but we’ll do our best to make the critters happy.

We love our animals.

Pray for us.

Amen.

Posted in appreciation, chihuahuas, dogs and kids, Service dogs, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 12 Comments

Glee – You’re on Notice

Shuffling out of my bedroom still half asleep, I’m greeted by my bright-eyed tween with her usual morning after questions.

“Did you watch Glee?”

It’s our Tuesday night assignment. She can’t watch Glee ’til we’ve watched Glee and screened it. And she might explode if she doesn’t get to watch it, today. She’s as “hopelessly devoted” to Glee as I was to Grease when I was her age. Only more so.

I hug her tight and she stands on her tip-toes, arms around my waist. The tip-toes are to make herself taller than me. It’s new, and she can’t stop doing it. We look at each other eye to eye.

“We need to talk about Glee.”

“Was it appropriate?” She asks, hopefully.

“Well, most of it was okay, but there was a part that really upset me.”

Her face drops. I call her father and brother into the room. Todd and I talked for hours the night before about how to address this and I can’t say we’ve really figured it out.

“Riley, you know how sometimes kids with Asperger’s, when they are having a hard time, they can be misunderstood and people think they are brats?”

She nods.

“I mean, even Dad and I didn’t get it at first, right? When you were little?”

She waits for more.

“Well last night on Glee, there was this new character, who behaved really badly, and said because she had self-diagnosed Asperger’s, she was entitled to act like a brat.”

“What did she do?”

“She insulted the Glee club, and even though she wasn’t talented, she felt she should be the star of the show, and she was really mean and rude.”

Todd adds, “She might not have really had Asperger’s, we’re not sure, but was using the diagnosis, as an excuse for her bad behavior.”

Riley looks back and forth to each of us.

I continue, “And we really were mad about it, because it’s not fair to stereotype kids with Asperger’s like that. You have Asperger’s and you would never act that way. You are never cruel. You don’t think the world owes you favors. That’s one of the reasons I love writing about you, because it gives people an understanding of how sweet kids with Asperger’s are. You’re a great ambassador for Asperger’s.”

Neither child knows what an ambassador is, so we explain the concept, while inwardly I question whether that’s a bit much to put on a child. Will I ever feel like I’m not winging the parenting thing? Ugh!

Seth nods along, affirming his sister’s awesome ambassador worthiness.

Riley listens intently, then says, “Maybe the writers didn’t mean to depict Asperger’s in a bad way.”

That’s my kind hearted girl, always giving people the benefit of the doubt.

Todd says, “Maybe not. And maybe they’ll take the story line further and explain more about what Asperger’s really is in future episodes. We don’t know.”

Her face suddenly twists up with worry.

“Can we just assume they aren’t talking about me?” she asks, her voice rising a couple of octaves.

The second agreement from The Four Agreements pops into my mind. Don’t take anything personally. Could I just assume they aren’t talking about Riley? Could it really be that easy?

Somehow I feel I have to protect her from what the world thinks of Asperger’s. She’s not rude. She’s not lacking empathy. She’s not robotic. I hate those stereotypes. And I’m not sure Riley really understands the repercussions for kids like her if negative stereotypes about Asperger’s are propagated unchecked in our society.

But then again, I know how pushing against something makes it bigger. Why not just let Riley do her thing, and continue to touch the people she touches, and change perceptions in her own little microcosm, one heart at a time?

Finally she looks at me with tears in her eyes and squeaks out her worst fear about the whole thing,

“Are you not going to let me watch it?”

This is where I want to put the powers that be at Glee on notice. Seriously. Ryan Murphy? Brad Falchuk? Ian Brennan? Dante Diloreto? (My daughter told me your names. She has everything about the show memorized). It’s really unfair to make people who are so vulnerable the butt of your humor. What’s next, kicking puppies? You better redeem yourselves or I’m leaving your viewership and taking a whole lot of people with me. The autism community is a big one, and it’s a divided one, but I think we can all agree, don’t mess with our kids. And BTW? We have lots of friends. 

I look at Riley and tell her, “We’ll keep watching it, and we’ll keep talking, okay?”

She sighs big. Relief all over her face.

She loves you Glee.

Keep that in mind.

Posted in appreciation, Asperger's, Parenting, special needs, special needs parenting, Uncategorized | Tagged | 13 Comments

Glee’s Depiction of “Asperger’s” DISGUSTING

“I have self-diagnosed Asperger’s so I can pretty much say whatever I want…I’m pretty much like a diplomat’s daughter.” Then the character proceeds to be an obnoxious no talent brat.

Yo Glee. WTF? My kid’s not going to understand this. She’s going to think this is how people view her. Thank God Todd and I screen the show before ever letting her watch it. We’ve spent the evening discussing what we’ll say to explain this to her. Better hearing it from us, than from one of her friends, or anyone else.

My daughter has better manners than almost any child you will ever meet. My daughter would never act the entitled brat. We can’t even figure out what the point was for the character to even be on the show.  I’m so sick of Asperger’s/autism being the Hollywood flavor of the week.

Riley described Glee Live over the summer as “the best day of her life.”

I hope the show she loves so much, the show about outsiders finding a place to belong, doesn’t wind up being the thing that makes her ashamed of having Asperger’s. I hope Glee doesn’t break her heart.

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Let’s go outside…

I’ve been to the Botanical Gardens dozens of times and somehow never saw her before. She’s huge. How could I have missed her? Did they trim back the foliage around her, exposing her? Or was I simply more present this time? 

And this foot bridge into the Japanese Garden, it wasn’t always there, was it?

Surely I’d have remembered this plaque on the inside railing?

Gentle direction, and protection

I love the smell of dirt. The rustle of the leaves. The sun filtering through the branches. The sound of a little stream. It doesn’t take long. Ten, twenty minutes before my breathing changes. I become more calm. Petty worries melt away. Solutions to larger concerns become more clear.

A trip to the gardens. Or coffee on the deck behind the house with little birds flitting about. Squirrels doing acrobatics in the branches of the trees. Right now I’m sitting in the big front window. Screens wide open, breathing fresh air, watching my happy kids ride by on their scooters. Green leafy trees, pink and yellow and purple and orange flowers still abound. Not for for long, I know. I’m about to close my computer and get out there.

Mother Nature will tend to us if we let her.

We just have to go outside.

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Lice and Mosquitos and Rashes and Colds

Three days into summer camp, Seth was sick. Riley followed. I shook my fist! Four weeks is all I get, and they’re home? Poor me!

We ended up missing a lice outbreak.

A few weeks ago, two Wednesdays in a row I couldn’t make “porch night” because Todd had to work evening shift. Porch night is when a few of us ladies gather on our friend Melinda’s awesome front porch after the kids are in bed. We have drinks. We chat. It’s fun.

Two weeks in a row! A consipiracy, I wailed!

Turns out, the mosquitoes were out. Two of the women got West Nile. Low grade fevers, achey bodies, mottled rashes.

This weekend Riley, Seth and I have nasty colds. Sore ears, eyes, noses, throats. We’re coughing, sneezing, the whole nine yards.

God only knows what we’ve been spared, stuck inside hacking up our lungs.

I’m just going to trust we’re where we need to be, and say thanks in advance.

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Plant based cooking class in Cleveland


Rebecca caters a lot of the functions at our church and her food is always yummy and good. Check out her blog here. Call to register: 440-225-2729

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