Well, here I sit with my new computer in front of me. Whether you are a Mac user or a PC user I think you'd love the fact that my computer is right next to my bed. Can you say type until you drop? I will! Can't wait to get back to the writing!
I feel it's been a rough fall. With both kids catching "Hand Foot and Mouth" disease and not being able to leave my son at school without there being a crying fit, it's been full. Very full.
I visited a spectrum specific "play place" a few months ago and have lots to say about it, but I digress. After a long week and hours of watching my husband have a good time on the computer I'm ready to fall back into the groove and write again :) hoping it gets easier...no? Oh well! :D
Friday, December 9, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Babies
We were at the Children's Museum (as is our saturday ritual) and I noticed alot of pregnant women with two or three toddlers in toe. My first thought, "Thank god it's not me."
... Is that awful? Shouldn't I be excited for them bringing another life into this world? I would never turn to one of these mothers with a winning smile and say "Hi, I see you're pregnant. Enjoy the screaming baby." But I can't help but feel some glee knowing I will never have to do it again. The birth is the fastest most painless part! (this coming from a woman who had an epidural. :P)
So I watched as my two beautiful children played side by side. I watched and was thankful I would never have to worry about not having formula around for my baby or a place to breast feed. It's freeing.
There will be other obstacles ahead, but I don't know about them so I'm not worried about them. It's the stuff I've already delt with that I can happily say I won't be dealing with in the future.....
famous last words, right?
... Is that awful? Shouldn't I be excited for them bringing another life into this world? I would never turn to one of these mothers with a winning smile and say "Hi, I see you're pregnant. Enjoy the screaming baby." But I can't help but feel some glee knowing I will never have to do it again. The birth is the fastest most painless part! (this coming from a woman who had an epidural. :P)
So I watched as my two beautiful children played side by side. I watched and was thankful I would never have to worry about not having formula around for my baby or a place to breast feed. It's freeing.
There will be other obstacles ahead, but I don't know about them so I'm not worried about them. It's the stuff I've already delt with that I can happily say I won't be dealing with in the future.....
famous last words, right?
Friday, June 3, 2011
Android
So here I am using my android take my blog I'm actually using the speaker function to write This is the coolest thing I've ever used I like talking in the background This post maybe the weirdest of my posts But I don't care this is cool It's been fun download apps And enjoying my phone feliz Of course it is easy to sing Like blog when was my last blog Please forgive and be patient I'm sure I'll be back soon This phone is awesome
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
My New Toddler
My Daughter is one today. She is sleeping as I type and is super sick. Poor thing has a bad virus and so do I!
It's interesting to think that this has been a year long journey of being a mother of two. I remember when my first's birthday rolled around and I thought "Well, there's one down..." At this point I don't really know what to think, other than when can I take more pain meds?
She is different than her brother ever was. More interested in the world around her and the people in it. She is more interested in the noise something makes when it hits the floor and she always looks to us for approval.
I even caught her dancing the other day. She has this toy she can push a button on and music will start (I'm sure there are a bazillion toys out there like this). She was pushing the button, swinging her arms around, the music would end then she would look at me with a huge smile and clap joyously.
This seemed almost impossible. I thought to myself, "this child can't be dancing." When I watched and she did the exact same thing about four times in a row, I had to agree that she was actually dancing! My baby is dancing. What else could a mother ask for?
(a sick mama could ask for some pain killers)
It's interesting to think that this has been a year long journey of being a mother of two. I remember when my first's birthday rolled around and I thought "Well, there's one down..." At this point I don't really know what to think, other than when can I take more pain meds?
She is different than her brother ever was. More interested in the world around her and the people in it. She is more interested in the noise something makes when it hits the floor and she always looks to us for approval.
I even caught her dancing the other day. She has this toy she can push a button on and music will start (I'm sure there are a bazillion toys out there like this). She was pushing the button, swinging her arms around, the music would end then she would look at me with a huge smile and clap joyously.
This seemed almost impossible. I thought to myself, "this child can't be dancing." When I watched and she did the exact same thing about four times in a row, I had to agree that she was actually dancing! My baby is dancing. What else could a mother ask for?
(a sick mama could ask for some pain killers)
Monday, May 23, 2011
Shoulda Staid in Bed
Do you ever have those mornings when you think you should have staid in bed? I think most people who think this actually could have staid in bed without disrupting the world all that much, but for parents of little kids the world would stop turning of they didn't get up and make the favorite "cereal and milk" you so often do.
So instead I could have shirked my responsibilities and staid in bed this morning- and really, I should have...
1) baby and mommy with a fever
2) toddler not getting to a playdate because of aforementioned baby
3) toddler running around bored out of his mind
4) mommy trying to calm the baby
5) no more motrin
6) keys locked in car
7) wallet locked in car... along with money
8) toddler deciding he doesn't want to listen to mommy as she tries to stop him from walking accross the street
9)wanting to cry
Of course this all seems to have passed as my super next door neighbor found us falling apart and offered to fix it all....
Thank god for Librarians :)
So instead I could have shirked my responsibilities and staid in bed this morning- and really, I should have...
1) baby and mommy with a fever
2) toddler not getting to a playdate because of aforementioned baby
3) toddler running around bored out of his mind
4) mommy trying to calm the baby
5) no more motrin
6) keys locked in car
7) wallet locked in car... along with money
8) toddler deciding he doesn't want to listen to mommy as she tries to stop him from walking accross the street
9)wanting to cry
Of course this all seems to have passed as my super next door neighbor found us falling apart and offered to fix it all....
Thank god for Librarians :)
Saturday, May 21, 2011
waiting for the world to end
so i've decided not to use caps in this entry as i don't want to lose time...
is the end of the world coming and if so should i be in a better outfit?
All this craziness is crazy. And yes that was supposed to sound over crazy. I can honestly tell you I never thought the world was going to end today and yes the day is still young. I hope all the people who have been praying for the rapture aren't too upset when rapturing doesn't happen.
I do believe the world will end some day. It won't be something that a human will be able to predict or even explain because it will most likely be the sun exploding and taking us all with it. That seems much more logical to me than a God deciding we were "good" and shouldn't have to die on the earth like every other creature.
I've never understood the whole "creatures were made for us to exploit" part of christianity. As a buddhist I believe that every living thing is connected and that we'll meet after death. Of course that doesn't mean I'll be having tea with an Oak tree in a fluffy clouded world people like to call Nirvana, it means when I die my energy will mix with all that around it.
You will not be able to tell me from a bug, because energy doesn't just disappear, it goes somewhere. And I will too... hopefully I'll find my way into a horses mane or perhaps a large bush. Heh, large bush.... If and when the world ends I believe the energy of every living thing on earth will move and become part of another life.
So, even if I do happen to not be chosen to be taken away by some being showing up and letting me fly up to their space ship, I'll be happy to stay here and hope when I die I can enjoy the earth just as much as I do now.
is the end of the world coming and if so should i be in a better outfit?
All this craziness is crazy. And yes that was supposed to sound over crazy. I can honestly tell you I never thought the world was going to end today and yes the day is still young. I hope all the people who have been praying for the rapture aren't too upset when rapturing doesn't happen.
I do believe the world will end some day. It won't be something that a human will be able to predict or even explain because it will most likely be the sun exploding and taking us all with it. That seems much more logical to me than a God deciding we were "good" and shouldn't have to die on the earth like every other creature.
I've never understood the whole "creatures were made for us to exploit" part of christianity. As a buddhist I believe that every living thing is connected and that we'll meet after death. Of course that doesn't mean I'll be having tea with an Oak tree in a fluffy clouded world people like to call Nirvana, it means when I die my energy will mix with all that around it.
You will not be able to tell me from a bug, because energy doesn't just disappear, it goes somewhere. And I will too... hopefully I'll find my way into a horses mane or perhaps a large bush. Heh, large bush.... If and when the world ends I believe the energy of every living thing on earth will move and become part of another life.
So, even if I do happen to not be chosen to be taken away by some being showing up and letting me fly up to their space ship, I'll be happy to stay here and hope when I die I can enjoy the earth just as much as I do now.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Three Year Old's Dream
What is a three year old's dream? How about having huge trucks barreling up and down the street just outside of your house for about a month? Or how about being able to watch them work up close while you wait for the bus to show up?
Yes, this is happening right now in my street. My neighbors who do not have young kids are flabbergasted by all the noise and commotion. They groaned and moaned about parking on the street for a week instead of their driveways. The cars are covered in dust and everyone's grass is sporting spray painted arrows. It's miserable.
My three year old son is fixated on these trucks. He even calls them "My Trucks". "Go outside see my trucks?" It's making the whole craziness seem a bit more fun.
I park my car on the street and dodge one-man-bulldozers with groceries in my hands. Not to mention that I usually have my one year old wiggling to get free. As I finally cross the street I have to either walk into the deep muddy ditch the workers have made to put in a curb or hope my hop will get me over it without falling or hurting an ankle.
Imagine this as a three year old. Watching as huge amazing machines pass by fast, my three year old squeals with delight. He hops around but always holds my hand. We quickly run between passing machines and it's like a game! The jumps become higher and the squeals more piercing after we have made it through. We make it to the edge of the ditch. The game just gets more exciting when he discovers there is mud everywhere. Swinging his free arm as far as it will go my son will make a leap into the air... completely missing the other edge. Laughs burst from him as he tries to get me to join him in the fun. After army crawling out of the ditch he is sufficiently dirty. We stand there for another few minutes and watch as the machines pass by. When we get in the house he usually sits by the window and announces when a truck has passed.
I can't help but wonder if the workers know how much fun my son has when they drive by. I know the garbage man loves it when my son runs out of the house and waves. I just wonder if the construction workers realize they have a three year old's dream job.
Yes, this is happening right now in my street. My neighbors who do not have young kids are flabbergasted by all the noise and commotion. They groaned and moaned about parking on the street for a week instead of their driveways. The cars are covered in dust and everyone's grass is sporting spray painted arrows. It's miserable.
My three year old son is fixated on these trucks. He even calls them "My Trucks". "Go outside see my trucks?" It's making the whole craziness seem a bit more fun.
I park my car on the street and dodge one-man-bulldozers with groceries in my hands. Not to mention that I usually have my one year old wiggling to get free. As I finally cross the street I have to either walk into the deep muddy ditch the workers have made to put in a curb or hope my hop will get me over it without falling or hurting an ankle.
Imagine this as a three year old. Watching as huge amazing machines pass by fast, my three year old squeals with delight. He hops around but always holds my hand. We quickly run between passing machines and it's like a game! The jumps become higher and the squeals more piercing after we have made it through. We make it to the edge of the ditch. The game just gets more exciting when he discovers there is mud everywhere. Swinging his free arm as far as it will go my son will make a leap into the air... completely missing the other edge. Laughs burst from him as he tries to get me to join him in the fun. After army crawling out of the ditch he is sufficiently dirty. We stand there for another few minutes and watch as the machines pass by. When we get in the house he usually sits by the window and announces when a truck has passed.
I can't help but wonder if the workers know how much fun my son has when they drive by. I know the garbage man loves it when my son runs out of the house and waves. I just wonder if the construction workers realize they have a three year old's dream job.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Bald Eagle
There was a Bald Eagle shot in North Carolina around where I used to go to school. It's sad to see such a huge bird (although it was just a baby) pictured in such a lifeless way. Poor thing didn't have a chance. And now I will give my opinion of guns (please feel free to stop reading):
I don't like them. I don't want to own anything that was made for killing. "Well, you better throw away all your knives!" my father in law responded to my above announcement. I explained to him that knives are used as tools.
There is no gun that was made to cut a carrot. Of course I will agree that guns and gun powder were invented to bring peace. Why then do we believe that in a country where peace is everywhere do we need to carry a gun? I don't see the need.
"To protect my family" is a good reason. I can understand feeling that something which puts power into your hands against a stronger individual would bring you peace of mind. Of course because a gun has no loyalty there is a chance it can be turned on you. So, I also believe that if you bring a gun into your house you should also consider it a weapon against your family just as much as a way to defend it. Makes me rethink what kind of weapons I'd bring in.
If someone were to come into my house and shoot me, killing me and my children would not be all that harmful to us. We would be dead. I believe that this person, who is so sick to need to kill anyone, would carry us with them. The killer would have to know they did a horrible wrong. I would not be able to carry killing any human, I have a hard enough time with the thought of eating meat.
So, I choose not to have a gun because I choose not to be given the chance to kill anyone.
... but of course it's my choice, and you have a choice too.
The fascination with the gun is not all together a bad thing. They are pretty amazing. You put a small ball in this tube and it shoots out the other side. I have nothing wrong with liking the mechanics of guns and learning how they work. That is something I would call "healthy" for anyone to have. There are thousands of museums with great displays of guns and that I find amazing. I love to walk through and see how the gun has evolved through the years. It's a study.
Gun owners who know more about their guns than their cars are people I believe should own guns. They become great teachers on respecting the machine. Gotta love the guys who can tell you why a gun in a movie is wrong and what the person would really be using. These people I love! These guys have their guns locked up and in a completely different place than their bullets.
.... Just thinking now, I'd love to meet a vegetarian gun enthusiast.
I don't like them. I don't want to own anything that was made for killing. "Well, you better throw away all your knives!" my father in law responded to my above announcement. I explained to him that knives are used as tools.
There is no gun that was made to cut a carrot. Of course I will agree that guns and gun powder were invented to bring peace. Why then do we believe that in a country where peace is everywhere do we need to carry a gun? I don't see the need.
"To protect my family" is a good reason. I can understand feeling that something which puts power into your hands against a stronger individual would bring you peace of mind. Of course because a gun has no loyalty there is a chance it can be turned on you. So, I also believe that if you bring a gun into your house you should also consider it a weapon against your family just as much as a way to defend it. Makes me rethink what kind of weapons I'd bring in.
If someone were to come into my house and shoot me, killing me and my children would not be all that harmful to us. We would be dead. I believe that this person, who is so sick to need to kill anyone, would carry us with them. The killer would have to know they did a horrible wrong. I would not be able to carry killing any human, I have a hard enough time with the thought of eating meat.
So, I choose not to have a gun because I choose not to be given the chance to kill anyone.
... but of course it's my choice, and you have a choice too.
The fascination with the gun is not all together a bad thing. They are pretty amazing. You put a small ball in this tube and it shoots out the other side. I have nothing wrong with liking the mechanics of guns and learning how they work. That is something I would call "healthy" for anyone to have. There are thousands of museums with great displays of guns and that I find amazing. I love to walk through and see how the gun has evolved through the years. It's a study.
Gun owners who know more about their guns than their cars are people I believe should own guns. They become great teachers on respecting the machine. Gotta love the guys who can tell you why a gun in a movie is wrong and what the person would really be using. These people I love! These guys have their guns locked up and in a completely different place than their bullets.
.... Just thinking now, I'd love to meet a vegetarian gun enthusiast.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Birthday
My daughter is turning One in a week and I couldn't be happier. Every mother sees their child's first birthday as a wonderful milestone. It's your baby growing up, bittersweet in the greatest way. Of course I am not every mother.
I am so excited that my daughter is turning one because there will be cake, ice cream and I now don't have a baby anymore! That's right! I have a toddler. Yes, toddlers are a rough period too. Yes, I still have diapers to change. BUT there is no more formula, the bottles are on their way out and we'll soon hear more words coming from her.
Who wouldn't be excited about connecting with their child on a social level? I watched as my son grew but his expressions never changed and he didn't seem all that interested in us. My daughter is walking now and she stands there pointing at everything around her. She'll bleat out as she points and look to me for my response. How awesome is that?!
As you may have already guessed I am also excited that I will never be pregnant again, I will never give birth again AND I will never have a baby again. Ahhhh, those three phrases brought together make my whole body relax.
Now, let's just keep the grand babies from coming for a VERY VERY long time..... How about 25 years? I think at that point I MAY be nostalgic for those poopy, crying, gooy, helpless beings again.
Maybe 45 years.
I am so excited that my daughter is turning one because there will be cake, ice cream and I now don't have a baby anymore! That's right! I have a toddler. Yes, toddlers are a rough period too. Yes, I still have diapers to change. BUT there is no more formula, the bottles are on their way out and we'll soon hear more words coming from her.
Who wouldn't be excited about connecting with their child on a social level? I watched as my son grew but his expressions never changed and he didn't seem all that interested in us. My daughter is walking now and she stands there pointing at everything around her. She'll bleat out as she points and look to me for my response. How awesome is that?!
As you may have already guessed I am also excited that I will never be pregnant again, I will never give birth again AND I will never have a baby again. Ahhhh, those three phrases brought together make my whole body relax.
Now, let's just keep the grand babies from coming for a VERY VERY long time..... How about 25 years? I think at that point I MAY be nostalgic for those poopy, crying, gooy, helpless beings again.
Maybe 45 years.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
One of those days
Have you ever had one of those days where everything just doesn't seem worth it. I don't mean in a larger sense, but cleaning up is just not worth it today cause I'll have kids ripping apart my couch in an hour or two. Or you know that if you start to clean up the bathroom your three year old will just pee all over it again? Well, it's just one of those days.
I happen to be that weird breed of person who becomes energized by bleak rainy days. I really should move to Seattle. It's strange to feel the power bubble over when I wake to a gray morning. I feel ready to take on anything. But, man, this sunny stuff? I'm not a big fan.
Who in their right mind would believe that I am gloomy on a sunny day? I'm sure it will get better when the children are asleep and I can relax with a beer. Ahhhh, but a beer tastes so good on a sunny day doesn't it?
I happen to be that weird breed of person who becomes energized by bleak rainy days. I really should move to Seattle. It's strange to feel the power bubble over when I wake to a gray morning. I feel ready to take on anything. But, man, this sunny stuff? I'm not a big fan.
Who in their right mind would believe that I am gloomy on a sunny day? I'm sure it will get better when the children are asleep and I can relax with a beer. Ahhhh, but a beer tastes so good on a sunny day doesn't it?
Monday, May 16, 2011
Weighted Blanket
I made a blanket! It was going to be easier than pie... and turned out to be like making a cheese cake.
My husband and I measured out where our son would need the weight on the blanket. We had heard that it should be 10% of your child's weight. We decided to make it 6lbs. He's growing like a weed and want the blanket to work for at least the next year or two.
So we took two top sheets and sewed them together. We started making the grid of 9x6 squares (each being 4x6 inches) by only doing the horizontal lines first. After we made those I began by making the first line of the bottom of the grid, where my son's feet would be.
Each 4x6 inch square was filled from the top. Also, good tip: we used a long wrapping paper tube to make sure the "polly pellets" didn't stick to the sides of the fabric. This made it so much easier.
After we filled each row we would sew a line across and start all over again with the new row.
This is the end result... sideways.
For a 6lbs blanket:
you make 9x6 grid of 1 cup full of "polly pellets"
start by making horizontal lines first
fill the 6 pockets then sew a line and repeat until all grid pockets are filled
use a paper tube to help keep pellets from sticking to sides of fabric
also- working with the sewing machine was the hardest part. You may want to get a second set of hands just in case.
I would agree that the 6hrs this took plus the $30 or so dollars for material was well worth it as a weighted blanket can cost $200 or more. I hope this is a helpful treat! Our son loves it and our pocket book doesn't hurt one bit!!
My husband and I measured out where our son would need the weight on the blanket. We had heard that it should be 10% of your child's weight. We decided to make it 6lbs. He's growing like a weed and want the blanket to work for at least the next year or two.
So we took two top sheets and sewed them together. We started making the grid of 9x6 squares (each being 4x6 inches) by only doing the horizontal lines first. After we made those I began by making the first line of the bottom of the grid, where my son's feet would be.
Each 4x6 inch square was filled from the top. Also, good tip: we used a long wrapping paper tube to make sure the "polly pellets" didn't stick to the sides of the fabric. This made it so much easier.
After we filled each row we would sew a line across and start all over again with the new row.
For a 6lbs blanket:
you make 9x6 grid of 1 cup full of "polly pellets"
start by making horizontal lines first
fill the 6 pockets then sew a line and repeat until all grid pockets are filled
use a paper tube to help keep pellets from sticking to sides of fabric
also- working with the sewing machine was the hardest part. You may want to get a second set of hands just in case.
I would agree that the 6hrs this took plus the $30 or so dollars for material was well worth it as a weighted blanket can cost $200 or more. I hope this is a helpful treat! Our son loves it and our pocket book doesn't hurt one bit!!
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Hair cut
I have a rule for myself, I will spend an outrageous amount of money on a hair cut because I have hair that seems to hate me. If I don't get it cut by a good stylist it seems to have a mind of it's own and decides I don't need to look attractive or my own age.
It's almost as if I am sending my hair to a boot came for disrespectful teenagers. It's the last resort when my hair gets out of hand. When it gets back there are praises and oos and aahs. I am gorgeous no matter what I wear and a perfect mother to boot!
Of course when I have a haircut by a bad stylist I get the outrageously annoying flips and curls which seem to pop out of nowhere. After watching this girl butcher my hair a few days ago I feel out of touch with myself and want to eat marshmallows and sleep for hours. I look like a tub of butter and smell like that creepy guy who happens to stand too close to you on the bus. It's bad.
I went in and my normal stylist had called in sick. They said I could make another appointment or have this girl "Andrea" cut it for me. (yes, I'm using her real name because she sucks and I want people to know she does.) I thought, there is no way my stylist would suggest someone who wasn't up to par with herself- well apparently it wasn't my stylist who suggested this girl but the "Salon". Two minutes after sitting down and being as specific as I could be about what I wanted, this valley girl proceeded to tell me two things which should have made me walk away: 1) she hadn't done all her work at beauty school and 2) she was dating the salon owner's son... ya, at that point I should have stood up and walked out.
Instead of going with my instincts and running away, I sat there and watched as this woman gave me bangs. I had hair almost to my shoulders and I wanted the back spikey and the front long to my chin. You know one of those freakin awesome cuts that makes you look like a superstar? Ya, like that. I also mentioned that I don't style my hair in the morning. I'm just lazy that way- oh and have two children. After she had given me long bangs and what I would call "woman sideburns", she looked at me and very seriously proclaimed "Now, you WILL have to style this."
I have one thing to say- screw you sweetheart! I do have an appointment with my stylist on Friday but don't have much hope of her being able to save what has been done... perhaps we can just shave it off, it's Buddha's birthday this weekend, perhaps a monk look would fit right in during the parade?
So, I will now be a walking reminder that 80s hair was awful then and is now. I hope someone gets enjoyment out of seeing my crazy mop cause every time I see it in the mirror all I want to do is ask the fat woman for directions... cause she looks like she's been here a while.
It's almost as if I am sending my hair to a boot came for disrespectful teenagers. It's the last resort when my hair gets out of hand. When it gets back there are praises and oos and aahs. I am gorgeous no matter what I wear and a perfect mother to boot!
Of course when I have a haircut by a bad stylist I get the outrageously annoying flips and curls which seem to pop out of nowhere. After watching this girl butcher my hair a few days ago I feel out of touch with myself and want to eat marshmallows and sleep for hours. I look like a tub of butter and smell like that creepy guy who happens to stand too close to you on the bus. It's bad.
I went in and my normal stylist had called in sick. They said I could make another appointment or have this girl "Andrea" cut it for me. (yes, I'm using her real name because she sucks and I want people to know she does.) I thought, there is no way my stylist would suggest someone who wasn't up to par with herself- well apparently it wasn't my stylist who suggested this girl but the "Salon". Two minutes after sitting down and being as specific as I could be about what I wanted, this valley girl proceeded to tell me two things which should have made me walk away: 1) she hadn't done all her work at beauty school and 2) she was dating the salon owner's son... ya, at that point I should have stood up and walked out.
Instead of going with my instincts and running away, I sat there and watched as this woman gave me bangs. I had hair almost to my shoulders and I wanted the back spikey and the front long to my chin. You know one of those freakin awesome cuts that makes you look like a superstar? Ya, like that. I also mentioned that I don't style my hair in the morning. I'm just lazy that way- oh and have two children. After she had given me long bangs and what I would call "woman sideburns", she looked at me and very seriously proclaimed "Now, you WILL have to style this."
I have one thing to say- screw you sweetheart! I do have an appointment with my stylist on Friday but don't have much hope of her being able to save what has been done... perhaps we can just shave it off, it's Buddha's birthday this weekend, perhaps a monk look would fit right in during the parade?
So, I will now be a walking reminder that 80s hair was awful then and is now. I hope someone gets enjoyment out of seeing my crazy mop cause every time I see it in the mirror all I want to do is ask the fat woman for directions... cause she looks like she's been here a while.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Mess or Sleep
It would be mean and cruel of me to praise the Good Nite Lite and say it saved us. Cause let's be honest, it hasn't. I can see how it would work for a child who understood the phrase: "If you get up you will be in big trouble."
This phrase doesn't seem to work with my child, (I'm not totally bought on the idea that he doesn't understand it) but no matter how many time outs I put him in before the sun comes up, he still wakes two hours earlier than he should and is very confused that he can't leave his room when he wants.
I hear it's normal to be a parent and want so badly to sleep another hour or two. I've heard that in about ten years it will take a crowbar and heavy machinery to get my child out of his bed. Will this reeeaaaaally happen? It's a joke, right?
Let's just say, for argument's sake, that he won't sleep in when he gets older, and if so, it will make the mornings that much weirder. Can you imagine your child making their own breakfast? Wow, now that is something out of the twilight zone.
Imagine your sweet child turning to you from in front of the stove. He is wearing that apron you bought just for him because he loves to keep those beautiful clothes you buy him spotless, he asks: Oh hey mom, would you like some spinach omelet, I made it just for you! When your spouse enters, you look knowingly at each other. You've raised the perfect butler...
Now let reality set in...
Can you imagine the mess in the kitchen, bathroom and living room floor (my child would happily plop himself two feet away from the glow of the TV and proceed to mow down on sugar laced cereal in his underwear... that's what I envision anyway...)? Would you take the couple of hours of sleep over a clean house?
Clean house or not, when it gets to the point you are fantasizing about waking up at 7am, you know you need a mantra to get you through the day.... Think of the mess, think of the mess, think of the mess...
This phrase doesn't seem to work with my child, (I'm not totally bought on the idea that he doesn't understand it) but no matter how many time outs I put him in before the sun comes up, he still wakes two hours earlier than he should and is very confused that he can't leave his room when he wants.
I hear it's normal to be a parent and want so badly to sleep another hour or two. I've heard that in about ten years it will take a crowbar and heavy machinery to get my child out of his bed. Will this reeeaaaaally happen? It's a joke, right?
Let's just say, for argument's sake, that he won't sleep in when he gets older, and if so, it will make the mornings that much weirder. Can you imagine your child making their own breakfast? Wow, now that is something out of the twilight zone.
Imagine your sweet child turning to you from in front of the stove. He is wearing that apron you bought just for him because he loves to keep those beautiful clothes you buy him spotless, he asks: Oh hey mom, would you like some spinach omelet, I made it just for you! When your spouse enters, you look knowingly at each other. You've raised the perfect butler...
Now let reality set in...
Can you imagine the mess in the kitchen, bathroom and living room floor (my child would happily plop himself two feet away from the glow of the TV and proceed to mow down on sugar laced cereal in his underwear... that's what I envision anyway...)? Would you take the couple of hours of sleep over a clean house?
Clean house or not, when it gets to the point you are fantasizing about waking up at 7am, you know you need a mantra to get you through the day.... Think of the mess, think of the mess, think of the mess...
Friday, April 29, 2011
All Alone
I watched an interesting interview with a 20 something year old who has a sibling with Autism. He said he forced his autistic brother to play with him and found ways to connect on different levels. That makes me happy. What made me a little sad was the worry the "normie" brother had about what would happen to his autistic brother.
Can you imagine, before you have children, before you have a pet, before you have an apartment, your biggest fear is your sibling needing help and that you are the only one who can give it to him? For me, that is an awful fear. What a weight the child must carry in such a situation. How can a parent comfort such fears? "Oh don't worry, we'll have money to take care of him." I'm not totally sure that would work for me. I would worry that the money would disappear or worse be stolen. I would figure out ways to make sure the money would be safe. I would toss and turn at night after dreams of seeing my sibling lost and alone.
Or as this sibling pointed out: "We forced him into our world, it would be awful to see him all alone in the world he was forced to be part of."
These thoughts just make me nervous.... then something else dawns on me.... shouldn't the government be taking care of us? ... ahhhh, I'm so Canadian...
Can you imagine, before you have children, before you have a pet, before you have an apartment, your biggest fear is your sibling needing help and that you are the only one who can give it to him? For me, that is an awful fear. What a weight the child must carry in such a situation. How can a parent comfort such fears? "Oh don't worry, we'll have money to take care of him." I'm not totally sure that would work for me. I would worry that the money would disappear or worse be stolen. I would figure out ways to make sure the money would be safe. I would toss and turn at night after dreams of seeing my sibling lost and alone.
Or as this sibling pointed out: "We forced him into our world, it would be awful to see him all alone in the world he was forced to be part of."
These thoughts just make me nervous.... then something else dawns on me.... shouldn't the government be taking care of us? ... ahhhh, I'm so Canadian...
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monty Python Helps Explain
Two very different approaches to dealing with autism....
Having a conversation with this head and tail of a tiger is almost as tiring as doing it with an autistic three year old.
The man looking for the leg just wants some logical answers to his questions. The head and tail seem to be trying to give answers but in a round about way. The one-less-leg man doesn't care why they seem odd or can't carry on a conversation, he just wants his leg.
We've all heard parents say they "lost" their child to autism. It's one of those things that makes autism so difficult to understand. Did the child go somewhere? Or have they always been there just hiding in the bushes behind these weirdos?
Thus my connection to this video.
The leg which has gone missing is your child.
When searching for your child among all the autistic traits (the tiger head and tail) there are some who ask instead "Why are you spinning" or "Why can't you talk?" (or in this case "why are you dressed as a tiger?") one sometimes forgets the whole point in the search to begin with- the leg (the child's personality, who they really are and who they could become).
People are looking for a "cure" for autism and there seems to be something forgotten. Who cares how or why it happened, let's find the friggin leg!
ps. I am all for understanding why autism happens and how we can prevent severe cases of it in future generations, but I'm not about to start pointing to a culprit when the real work should be with connecting with my child. Why would i put my energy into understanding why two grown men are in a tiger outfit?
Having a conversation with this head and tail of a tiger is almost as tiring as doing it with an autistic three year old.
The man looking for the leg just wants some logical answers to his questions. The head and tail seem to be trying to give answers but in a round about way. The one-less-leg man doesn't care why they seem odd or can't carry on a conversation, he just wants his leg.
We've all heard parents say they "lost" their child to autism. It's one of those things that makes autism so difficult to understand. Did the child go somewhere? Or have they always been there just hiding in the bushes behind these weirdos?
Thus my connection to this video.
The leg which has gone missing is your child.
When searching for your child among all the autistic traits (the tiger head and tail) there are some who ask instead "Why are you spinning" or "Why can't you talk?" (or in this case "why are you dressed as a tiger?") one sometimes forgets the whole point in the search to begin with- the leg (the child's personality, who they really are and who they could become).
People are looking for a "cure" for autism and there seems to be something forgotten. Who cares how or why it happened, let's find the friggin leg!
ps. I am all for understanding why autism happens and how we can prevent severe cases of it in future generations, but I'm not about to start pointing to a culprit when the real work should be with connecting with my child. Why would i put my energy into understanding why two grown men are in a tiger outfit?
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Buddhist Easter
It was only this past Friday that I realized something was happening this weekend. When my son's bus driver said he would see them next week it made me wonder what was happening to him. We got into the house and I glanced at the calendar. Good Friday was tomorrow! My first thought: What am I gonna do with my kids tomorrow?
The fact that I had a full 8 hours of entertaining my son seemed daunting. I would have to take them somewhere. It would be raining so the options were: Zoo, Children's Museum or a Toys R Us. The Zoo has this great children's zoo inside and there are lots of activities to do and animals to see without going into the rain. The problem with the Zoo is that I have to leave the stroller outside and I didn't want to carry my 20lb daughter as my 3 year old runs around. The children's museum seemed the best choice cause we are members and it wouldn't cost us a thing to go. The toy store just didn't appeal to me. I like spending my money on candy, but would prefer it be candy for myself.
So instead we spent Friday sitting on the couch watching movies. My son wasn't taking my bait of a gummi worm if he got in the car. There we sat, almost as in some artistic movie... staring at each other. Bored out of our minds. Couldn't even get some alone time as my son wouldn't have a nap on Friday. Of course I didn't try all that hard but I did ask him timidly if he wanted to have a nap.... that counts, that totally counts!
Anyway, here is to my Buddhist Easter! I hope you all enjoyed yours :)
The fact that I had a full 8 hours of entertaining my son seemed daunting. I would have to take them somewhere. It would be raining so the options were: Zoo, Children's Museum or a Toys R Us. The Zoo has this great children's zoo inside and there are lots of activities to do and animals to see without going into the rain. The problem with the Zoo is that I have to leave the stroller outside and I didn't want to carry my 20lb daughter as my 3 year old runs around. The children's museum seemed the best choice cause we are members and it wouldn't cost us a thing to go. The toy store just didn't appeal to me. I like spending my money on candy, but would prefer it be candy for myself.
So instead we spent Friday sitting on the couch watching movies. My son wasn't taking my bait of a gummi worm if he got in the car. There we sat, almost as in some artistic movie... staring at each other. Bored out of our minds. Couldn't even get some alone time as my son wouldn't have a nap on Friday. Of course I didn't try all that hard but I did ask him timidly if he wanted to have a nap.... that counts, that totally counts!
Anyway, here is to my Buddhist Easter! I hope you all enjoyed yours :)
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Phantom Autism
I remember learning while in college that there is a certain kind of illness people get when they start to study diseases and mental illnesses. I don't know the name of it and a quick search on Google says I won't be able to find it easily. Usually medial students get it as they study the destructive nature of our bodies. The human brain can really screw with you.
After reading multiple books and watching plenty of documentaries I feel like I'm starting to see signs of Autism in MY day to day life. I get very annoyed when my routine is uprooted and I have always had a hard time making friends. All in all it's hard to connect with people on EVERY level. But that's just silly!
Why would I NOW believe I have a developmental disability after I've already developed, let alone graduated high school and university without any outside help? I believe as a parent you tend to look to yourself when trying to understand what is happening to your children. It makes sense that I would want to connect with my child and one of the best ways is by finding a common ground. Or common disfunction? But, every parent has a common disfunction with their child. For some it's interest in bad habits, for others it's the way they laugh (mine would be called the woop, and both my children pop ear drums when they laugh).
The hard truth is: I don't Stem. I don't have difficulties with others. I don't fixate on things. I don't have one way of thinking. I am not autistic.... but, man, for some reason my brain wants to get me there!
As for now, I think I'll start looking harder at the world around me and how I perceive it. That's really all I can do, right? Or perhaps I can stop reading the studies on autism and get back into reading novels about romance. Romance is lovely, isn't it? I don't have to think and the "problems" the characters deal with seem trivial.
Take me away Ruthiford, or St John, or Bob.... take me to your ridiculous scenarios where there always seems to be a reason NOT to have a full conversation about relationships and everyone is beautiful..... ahhh, that's better.
After reading multiple books and watching plenty of documentaries I feel like I'm starting to see signs of Autism in MY day to day life. I get very annoyed when my routine is uprooted and I have always had a hard time making friends. All in all it's hard to connect with people on EVERY level. But that's just silly!
Why would I NOW believe I have a developmental disability after I've already developed, let alone graduated high school and university without any outside help? I believe as a parent you tend to look to yourself when trying to understand what is happening to your children. It makes sense that I would want to connect with my child and one of the best ways is by finding a common ground. Or common disfunction? But, every parent has a common disfunction with their child. For some it's interest in bad habits, for others it's the way they laugh (mine would be called the woop, and both my children pop ear drums when they laugh).
The hard truth is: I don't Stem. I don't have difficulties with others. I don't fixate on things. I don't have one way of thinking. I am not autistic.... but, man, for some reason my brain wants to get me there!
As for now, I think I'll start looking harder at the world around me and how I perceive it. That's really all I can do, right? Or perhaps I can stop reading the studies on autism and get back into reading novels about romance. Romance is lovely, isn't it? I don't have to think and the "problems" the characters deal with seem trivial.
Take me away Ruthiford, or St John, or Bob.... take me to your ridiculous scenarios where there always seems to be a reason NOT to have a full conversation about relationships and everyone is beautiful..... ahhh, that's better.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Grunting
Grunting is unacceptable at the dinner table. I've never really had a problem with it but the majority of people in USA would agree. The fact is it looks like my cooking has made everyone at the table de-evolve. Only recently grunting has started to really get on my nerves.
A three year old should be able to ask for things with WORDS. This is one of the "normal" things one would see with a child who has eaten his third birthday cake shaped like a train, but there is a different conversation going on in my house:
Mom: Do you want some food?
Son: Some food?
Mom: Is that yes?
Son: Is that yes?
Mom: Or no?
Son: Or no?
Mom: (he isn't listening to me so let me get his attention) How about a hippo?
Son: Hippo, okay!
Mom: You want to eat a hippo? (laughing heartily)
Son: Eat a hippo?
Mom: Yes or no?
Son: ..... (grunt)
Mom: Is that a no?
and so on...
If one were conversing with an adult, they would think this repeating activity was trying to bring a load of pain to the human tape recorder. It's funny to think of how often I hear what I have just said. Not only do I hear what I just said, but when I try to shake up the conversation enough to get my son more interested (ie inserting an animal he would NEVER eat) it seems to make him more frustrated. We both seem to know exactly what to do to bug the other.
He knows that if he repeats enough of what I say, I'll leave him alone eventually. I know that when I throw in something illogical he doesn't understand why I'm laughing. My son and I have a Love/(grunt) relationship.
Grunting came into our lives recently when my son was expected to use his words more often. He would grunt and get angry. There were screaming fits and flailing arms until I started reminding him he could use words. Asking a question he ALWAYS knows the answer to seems to help:
Mom: Please eat your lima beans.
Son: (grunt)
Mom: You've done so well with the rest of your meal, why not finish off those beans?
Son: (screaming grunt)
Mom: Do you want apple sauce for dessert? You have to eat your lima beans for apple sauce.
Son: (grunt scream grunt)
Mom: Please use your words.
Son: (SCREAMING GRUNT)
Mom: Do you want to go into a time out?
Son: No.
Mom: Then please use your words.
Son: Apple sauce
Mom: You can have apple sauce when you finish your lima beans.
Son: Apple sauce, PLEASE.
Mom: When you're finished your lima beans.
Son: (grunt)
and so on...
I'm sure I'd enjoy it oh so much more if I were a fly on the wall, but then again, everyone's life would be fun to watch as a fly on the wall....
Well, maybe not everyone's, but a few... okay, maybe just a couple.
A three year old should be able to ask for things with WORDS. This is one of the "normal" things one would see with a child who has eaten his third birthday cake shaped like a train, but there is a different conversation going on in my house:
Mom: Do you want some food?
Son: Some food?
Mom: Is that yes?
Son: Is that yes?
Mom: Or no?
Son: Or no?
Mom: (he isn't listening to me so let me get his attention) How about a hippo?
Son: Hippo, okay!
Mom: You want to eat a hippo? (laughing heartily)
Son: Eat a hippo?
Mom: Yes or no?
Son: ..... (grunt)
Mom: Is that a no?
and so on...
If one were conversing with an adult, they would think this repeating activity was trying to bring a load of pain to the human tape recorder. It's funny to think of how often I hear what I have just said. Not only do I hear what I just said, but when I try to shake up the conversation enough to get my son more interested (ie inserting an animal he would NEVER eat) it seems to make him more frustrated. We both seem to know exactly what to do to bug the other.
He knows that if he repeats enough of what I say, I'll leave him alone eventually. I know that when I throw in something illogical he doesn't understand why I'm laughing. My son and I have a Love/(grunt) relationship.
Grunting came into our lives recently when my son was expected to use his words more often. He would grunt and get angry. There were screaming fits and flailing arms until I started reminding him he could use words. Asking a question he ALWAYS knows the answer to seems to help:
Mom: Please eat your lima beans.
Son: (grunt)
Mom: You've done so well with the rest of your meal, why not finish off those beans?
Son: (screaming grunt)
Mom: Do you want apple sauce for dessert? You have to eat your lima beans for apple sauce.
Son: (grunt scream grunt)
Mom: Please use your words.
Son: (SCREAMING GRUNT)
Mom: Do you want to go into a time out?
Son: No.
Mom: Then please use your words.
Son: Apple sauce
Mom: You can have apple sauce when you finish your lima beans.
Son: Apple sauce, PLEASE.
Mom: When you're finished your lima beans.
Son: (grunt)
and so on...
I'm sure I'd enjoy it oh so much more if I were a fly on the wall, but then again, everyone's life would be fun to watch as a fly on the wall....
Well, maybe not everyone's, but a few... okay, maybe just a couple.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Trailer Trash
How bad is it that I keep finding myself looking a bit like a woman who spent the 39 of the 40 years of her life in a trailer? It just doesn't make sense to get "dressed up" for a day of chasing kids and trying to remember to eat properly (have I had veggies today? Ahh, forget it, I'll have some tomorrow, I PROMISE!).
Either way, it's funny how little I care about how people see me lately. Ya, I gained back those five pounds I kicked off my butt about two months ago, but I also gained some more! So, it's like getting more change back from the cashier than you thought you were going to get! YA, WIGGLY MIDDLE! Perhaps it's because I'm so tired, or perhaps I'm not getting enough "me" time at the salon (honestly, when was the last time I got my hair cut by someone other than myself or my husband?) but I'm going to use the excuse that my husband loves me.
He does. It doesn't matter how hairy my legs are or how smelly I am, he still loves me. Ya know, I've changed my mind. This is a stupid reason. (he still loves me though.)
I will instead say it is because I have won a billion dollars and shouldn't care what others think cause I could buy them out of their house if I wanted to! Wait, this one is stupid too.
Let's just say I have been making more purchases of gummibears and less adventures to the veggie world. It's not that hard to change what I've damaged, but who am I to change nature? Right? Am I right? ...
Let's just forget that if I were "natural" I would be running around with a spear trying to kill small mammals and wear their clothes because it gets cold here in Illinois! But, I'd be just as unshaven! So I'm half way to natural. Perhaps now I should enjoy an apple to turn myself around this corner of flabby street to fit avenue. Or I could eat those cookies I made today.
.... I'll have an apple tomorrow, I PROMISE!
Either way, it's funny how little I care about how people see me lately. Ya, I gained back those five pounds I kicked off my butt about two months ago, but I also gained some more! So, it's like getting more change back from the cashier than you thought you were going to get! YA, WIGGLY MIDDLE! Perhaps it's because I'm so tired, or perhaps I'm not getting enough "me" time at the salon (honestly, when was the last time I got my hair cut by someone other than myself or my husband?) but I'm going to use the excuse that my husband loves me.
He does. It doesn't matter how hairy my legs are or how smelly I am, he still loves me. Ya know, I've changed my mind. This is a stupid reason. (he still loves me though.)
I will instead say it is because I have won a billion dollars and shouldn't care what others think cause I could buy them out of their house if I wanted to! Wait, this one is stupid too.
Let's just say I have been making more purchases of gummibears and less adventures to the veggie world. It's not that hard to change what I've damaged, but who am I to change nature? Right? Am I right? ...
Let's just forget that if I were "natural" I would be running around with a spear trying to kill small mammals and wear their clothes because it gets cold here in Illinois! But, I'd be just as unshaven! So I'm half way to natural. Perhaps now I should enjoy an apple to turn myself around this corner of flabby street to fit avenue. Or I could eat those cookies I made today.
.... I'll have an apple tomorrow, I PROMISE!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
6pm Bedtime
You wouldn't think that such a crazy idea would work, right? Well, it actually has been pretty good lately since I pushed the bedtime back to when most people are arriving home from work.
The hardest part is the fact it's so bright outside! Who in they're right mind would think "NOW would be the best time to sleep" as they look out at the bright beginning of the evening and children frolicking in the green grass? Apparently I do.
After three weeks of blissfully waking after 6:30am I don't think I'll be able to go back to waking at 5 again. Of course there have been the night wakings. Once in a while I have both kids up at the same time and wonder if it is a good idea to put them down so early. Then I put my head down and wake up after the sun has risen, ahhhh, so relaxing.
To be fair, I have an earlier bedtime too. Instead of waiting for hubby to get home I will lay my head down and go to sleep at about 9pm. Really, this is a big deal to someone who stays up voluntarily until midnight at the earliest! So, you'd say I am giving myself the same restrictions. I do get exceptions though! Like: cleaning the kitchen... ok that's my only one but it's a good one and has to be done on a daily basis. So I just try to make the kitchen as messy as I possibly can so I can stay up, (and thus have gone to bed at 9pm once in the past two weeks). Easy schmeesy!
... of course that does mean that I am cleaning the whole time, which isn't the desired past time of many. But man, if you were a neat freak and wanted the best way to full fill the dream- I've got it!
Ha ha! Suckers! ..... wait....
The hardest part is the fact it's so bright outside! Who in they're right mind would think "NOW would be the best time to sleep" as they look out at the bright beginning of the evening and children frolicking in the green grass? Apparently I do.
After three weeks of blissfully waking after 6:30am I don't think I'll be able to go back to waking at 5 again. Of course there have been the night wakings. Once in a while I have both kids up at the same time and wonder if it is a good idea to put them down so early. Then I put my head down and wake up after the sun has risen, ahhhh, so relaxing.
To be fair, I have an earlier bedtime too. Instead of waiting for hubby to get home I will lay my head down and go to sleep at about 9pm. Really, this is a big deal to someone who stays up voluntarily until midnight at the earliest! So, you'd say I am giving myself the same restrictions. I do get exceptions though! Like: cleaning the kitchen... ok that's my only one but it's a good one and has to be done on a daily basis. So I just try to make the kitchen as messy as I possibly can so I can stay up, (and thus have gone to bed at 9pm once in the past two weeks). Easy schmeesy!
... of course that does mean that I am cleaning the whole time, which isn't the desired past time of many. But man, if you were a neat freak and wanted the best way to full fill the dream- I've got it!
Ha ha! Suckers! ..... wait....
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